Chapter 26
Belmore and Belmore
Christopher did not attend the party held after the play. He quietly returned to the penthouse on the top floor of the hotel formerly used by Joseph Paxton.
Sitting at the mahogany desk with the lights off, he stared silently at his grandfather’s portrait.
Everything was going according to plan, yet strangely, it did not feel satisfying.
Whenever this feeling came over him, he thought about what his grandfather would have done.
Archibald Nicholas Belmore. His grandfather had ensured that he would never feel the absence of his father, teaching him everything himself.
“You are different from Luiry. You are not Luiry.”
Luiry. “Loser” Luiry. Even the name seemed destined for a perfectly wretched life.
He leaned back in his chair. Below the large window, the hotel garden, front gate, and the city stretched out at a glance.
Amid the flickering lights, Christmas parties and dinners must be underway everywhere.
Silent night, holy night, in the darkness…
Somewhere, laughter and carols drifted to him. His mind wandered to a Christmas dinner long ago.
His grandfather, grandmother, mother, and the empty seat of his father. The Christmas meals he had forcefully eaten in the silence, feeling like he might vomit.
Christmas had always been a harshly cold occasion, meant to be endured without conversation.
He recalled the eavesdropped conversation of a maid and tutor long ago, as if shards of broken glass had splintered in his memory.
“Poor young Master Christopher… to have to spend Christmas in a house like that.”
“There’s no hell worse. Sir Archibald Belmore is a devil… doesn’t he pity his own son?”
“Shh! You’ll be heard!”
He sank deeper into his chair and closed his eyes. The conversations of the nanny and tutor blurred, replaced by the woman’s high, lark-like voice ringing in his ears.
“I love Christmas. We play card games, sing, eat cake in front of the fireplace, and open presents.”
“Do you really kiss? I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“I hate Belmore.”
Like the soft inner feathers of new wings, like untouched snow. Her face bore such an expression.
It felt as if he had been doused with cold water. He opened his eyes.
The woman smiling and dining before him, speaking in a warm, cheerful voice… she hated Belmore—himself included.
He stared at the man in the portrait, whose cold eyes gazed down on the world as he did.
“Christopher, when Belmore wants something, it means Belmore has it.”
He exhaled a soft plume of smoke while staring at the cityscape outside.
Yes. His grandfather had never been wrong. The soul embedded in his name whispered that truth.
He had been giving money to the diligent little lark, and the poor girl, unaware, had been innocently happy.
It was a slightly sadistic amusement, but it did not fill the emptiness inside him.
Through the blizzard, the gas lamp in front of the hotel flickered. After walking so far, her leather shoes and skirt were soaked through.
Belmore Hotel.
Liri scolded herself for feeling relief at the cursed name.
“There is nowhere in the world for you to lean on. You are forever alone.”
It felt as if a stern voice were scolding her from somewhere.
Snow piled on her coat, and she didn’t even think to brush it off. Her soaked leather shoes had numbed her feet.
Even when she saw someone holding a black riding umbrella at the hotel entrance, she felt no shame.
“Do you want to freeze to death?”
When Liri did not move, the voice urged again.
“Without a carriage, where did you walk from?”
She tried to move, but her body would not obey.
“If you’re going to spend Christmas in a place like this, you should at least bring a bundle of matches.”
“After such a pleasant evening, don’t treat me like a poor little match girl.”
Liri clenched her teeth and lifted her head at his sarcastic tone. The man’s face was uncomfortably close.
“Aren’t you curious about me after all this time?”
Liri did not want to admit she had seen him. Embarrassment held her silent. When she did not answer, he asked again:
“Have you eaten?”
“Don’t you have a family?”
“I’m alone.”
That simple answer resonated in her chest.
“My grandparents raised me. After my grandfather passed, I was entirely on my own.”
There was no trace of misfortune in him. Many people either weaponize their misfortune or hide it.
But this person was confident, beautiful. What had lifted him from the abyss without leaving a single stain?
“Since neither of us has parents, it’s not so strange that we are here. But not going to the hotel—this direction—is suspicious.”
Liri stubbornly moved past him; he had no right to stop her.
“Do you still doubt me?”
“The path might be blocked.”
He grabbed her arm, but Liri shook it free.
“Do you know what used to be here?”
With no reply, she moved forward, brushing through the bushes and blending into the desolate landscape. The man with the black riding umbrella followed.
Her dress hem was wet and cold, but she did not care.
“This is the most famous nativity in Londinium. When Mary was pregnant, an angel brought a lily to announce it.”
He opened the half-built annex of the hotel and waited for her to enter.
“Come in.”
The floor was marble, just like the main hotel, not corrugated iron.
In the center of the annex hall, the fresco revealed the old building’s remnants, bathed in moonlight from the cleared sky. The restored Virgin’s face was sharp and clear.
The Madonna in the fresco resembled a virtuous young lady: kind, gentle, truthful, and unyielding even when disadvantaged.
“I try not to think about it, even when everyone shows such pity.”
To hate someone felt like putting a stone in a lake and stepping in.
“But today, I could not endure it. It’s all Belmore’s fault. I work in this hotel. From the moment I step through the door, I feel suffocated.”
Since Christopher had brought her from Highbrom, he could finally look at her closely without restraint.
“Why are you staring so… intently?”
“If Belmore…”
Her once-chubby cheeks were flushed, pomegranate-red, and her straw-like hair flowed soft as honey.
Always cheerful, yet the shadow cast by her thick lashes gave an elegant, cool impression.
“If Sir Belmore knew he ruined your life…”
“That wouldn’t change his life. He’d probably enjoy it.”
“Yes, indeed.”
He smiled bitterly.
“I know Sir Belmore is talented at holding someone’s weakness and manipulating them. But I wish he knew not everyone is played.”
Liri’s gaze remained fixed on the fresco.
“Tomorrow, I’ll work in the hotel as usual, send the money to the convent… and eventually leave this place.”
So pitifully innocent and cute.
Every careless word she uttered made him want to intervene, yet he restrained himself.
Instead, he placed his hand on her face. He could not resist.
“What are you… doing?”
His large hand covered her entire face. Then he swept his thumb across her rosy lips. Soft and warm. He felt her hot breath through the slightly parted lips.
Liri could not resist, blinking like a docile animal.
She did not fully understand his action.
“Your face is cold.”
The onyx cuff on his sleeve glimmered.
Unlike her rigid cheeks, the soft touch thrilled him. As he applied slight pressure, her lips parted more.
Only then did she turn her face.
“Don’t turn away.”
He commanded in a gentle tone, a tone that made her immobile. He was accustomed to giving orders; she, a maid, was accustomed to obeying.
He pulled her scarf against him and cupped her small shoulders.
Was he going to kiss her?
Liri closed her eyes.
She clutched the collar of his shirt, terrified that letting go would plunge her into an endless abyss.
His arm loosened slightly and moved down to lightly hold her waist.
Then he pressed his lips to her forehead—the same spot Timothy had kissed. Warmth made her open her eyes.
His gaze was too close.
Any closer, and their lips would meet.
He whispered:
“Merry Christmas.”
At that moment, Liri fled like a nymph escaping from a god, ashamed at how she had anticipated a kiss.
Somehow, her scarf had gone, letting cold air brush her neck, but she did not notice.
Watching the play at Rotunda Hall and catching floating gold-leaf confetti could have been a beautiful day.
But she could not spend such a day.
It seemed that God measured orphaned lives with unusually harsh standards.
Her heart pounded so violently she could barely breathe. She struggled with the keyhole several times before finally opening her door.
The spot where his lips had touched felt like it was on fire.
That kiss had changed her fate. She could hear destiny shift with a faint movement.
Now, all that remained was for him to follow the path destiny had set.
