Shadows of London: 2-10 Moment of Farewell

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Shadows of London

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Aunt Petit issues an ultimatum but Caroline is determined to see this through.

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Style: Recommended: Henry VII Chapel Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: Gulliver's Travels

Gulliver's Travels

Dialogue Choices

I went to Jesse's grave yesterday. I—

• I discovered a few things
  • Story continues
• I'll never forget Jesse
  • Story continues

Transcript

Expand for script.

• You: Aunt Petit...

• I stare sadly at the lamb chops on my plate, completely losing my appetite.
• Madam Petit: You're not a child anymore, Caroline. I understand that you have your own thoughts and ideas.

• Madam Petit: During this period, I have been trying my best to give you space to do what you wanted...

• Madam Petit: ...even though every time you go out, I worry about your safety.

• You: I know you've been worried, Aunt Petit. And I know you care about me.

• Madam Petit: But after what happened this afternoon, I hope you will carefully consider the current situation.

• Madam Petit: Think of this uncontrollable epidemic. Think of the chaos in the Eastern District. Think of Scotland Yard—

• Madam Petit: London has become extremely unsafe. If you stay here, your life will be in danger.

• Madam Petit: This is where I draw the line, Caroline. Your life and safety are where I draw the line!

• Aunt Petit's voice trembles. Tears well up in my eyes.
• Perhaps the most difficult thing in the world is to defy those who truly care about us in order to do what must be done, despite the dangers.
• I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, allowing myself to recall the moment when I made my decision.

• You: (No, I can't just leave with all this sorrow!)

• I gaze out the window at this city shrouded in fog, clenching my fists, and quietly make a decision.
• In the blink of an eye, the heavy burden on my chest lifts, and only my remorse towards Aunt Petit and Grandpa is left.
• You: (Grandpa, Aunt Petit, please forgive me for not keeping to my word... Ignorant bliss isn't what I want.)

• You: (For the sake of finding answers, I'm not afraid of any danger.)

• When I open my eyes again, my throat is still tight, but I have swallowed my tears.
• You: Aunt Petit, I'm sorry. I'm not rejecting your love and care. It's just that we value different things.

• Madam Petit: Caroline!

• You: You said that you draw the line at my life and safety, and I'm truly touched to hear that.

• You: But with all due respect: your life and safety are also where Mr. Erskine draws the line.

• You: Even so, you refused Mr. Erskine.

• At the sudden mention of this incident, Aunt Petit is clearly shaken, and her gaze involuntarily shifts away.
• Madam Petit: That's... that's different...

• You: It's no different, Aunt Petit. We both know that we are deeply loved, and this love moves us deeply, yet we cannot waver.

• Madam Petit: ...

• You: You didn't mean to hurt Mr. Erskine by refusing him, any more than I mean to hurt you by refusing to leave London.

• You: So please understand me, and trust me—just like you trust yourself.

• Aunt Petit looks at me. Her expression turns melancholy and contemplative as she slowly exhales.
• Madam Petit: When did you grow up, Caroline?

• Madam Petit: Thirteen years ago when Cyril knocked on my door, you were still so young.

• You: Aunt Petit?

• Madam Petit: Speaking to you now feels like having a conversation with a woman who's wise beyond your years...

• She sits quietly, gazing sadly in the direction of the door, as if still looking for that drenched, tearful little girl.
• But thirteen years have passed, and that little girl has vanished without a trace.
• Madam Petit: Alright. Since you've made up your mind, I won't say anything more.

• Madam Petit: But take these. Please.

• Curious, I take the pieces of paper Aunt Petit hands me. They're filled with dense writing, and I see many names.
• Madam Petit: After living in London for so many years, I've managed to build up some reliable connections.

• Madam Petit: If you encounter any difficulties and need assistance, you can try calling on these people.

• Madam Petit: Even if some of them are not in London, write to them, and they could probably still provide some help.

• Aunt Petit speaks lightly, but I knew the weight of this list. This is a powerful network that gathers elites from all walks of life in London.
• You: Thank you so much, Aunt Petit.

• You: Perhaps it's not my place to say this, but... you truly are an incredible woman.

• Madam Petit: ...

• As she recognizes the sincere admiration in my words, the corners of her mouth turn up, and her eyes shine with self-confidence and pride.
• Madam Petit: Anna and I will go to France, but you can continue living in this house with the housekeeper, cook, and other staff.

• Madam Petit: I've also left you some cash. You'll have to learn how to manage your own household. Will you be alright?

• You: This is something every lady should know. And besides, I was a student of Madam Violet Petit.

• I smile to hide the sorrow in my heart. It is my duty to keep my aunt from worrying about me while she goes to France.

• That night, we end our dinner with smiles and retire to our own rooms.
• When I lay my head on my pillow, the tears that I've been holding back finally flow from the corners of my eyes.
• I wonder if my aunt is grieving our upcoming separation too.
• But even in the farthest corners of the world, our bonds with our loved ones are treasures that we carry throughout our lives.

• A few days later, Aunt Petit and Anna get into the carriage early in the morning to head to the train station.
• The farewell is bittersweet. Aunt Petit and I keep a stiff upper lip, as does Anna. Jack, on the other hand, is crying uncontrollably.
• His face streams with tears and snot as he waves goodbye. Seeing his loyalty makes me glad he'll be staying with me.
• I watch the carriage go, silently praying for Aunt Petit to have a safe journey.
• Suddenly, I notice a nondescript figure standing at the corner not far away. I can't help but walk over.
• You: Good morning, Mr. Erskine. Did you come here to see my aunt off?

• Bernard Erskine: Can't you just pretend that you didn't see me, Caroline?

• You: I apologize.

• Mr. Erskine keeps staring in the direction the carriage departed, his tone indifferent.
• Bernard Erskine: So, she left, and you stayed.

• You: Yes. I chose to stay in London.

• Bernard Erskine: To have been able to convince your aunt shows that you are a very capable person, Caroline.

• Bernard Erskine: I hope you'll be alright in London on your own. Anyway, I'm leaving too. I've got to catch a train tonight.

• You: I guess you must be going to Provence too, right?

• Bernard Erskine: A well-mannered lady should not smile so, Caroline. Behave yourself.

• Bernard Erskine: I knew from the start that you weren't someone who gives up easily. Neither am I.

• I smile knowingly.
• You: Mr. Erskine, Aunt Petit has a cold exterior but a warm heart, and she's no fool.

• You: She knows what true love is.

• Mr. Erskine snorts and casts a sidelong glance at me.
• Bernard Erskine: Caroline, I have known Violet for over a decade, much longer than you.

• Bernard Erskine: Now, I need to prepare for my trip. Oh, by the way...

• Bernard Erskine: If you don't have plans, perhaps you could pay a visit to the Lindvalls' residence.

• Bernard Erskine: I heard that their family is also setting off today.

• You: !

• After bidding Mr. Erskine a hasty farewell, I immediately rush to the Lindvalls' residence.
• Sure enough, the once magnificent mansion is deserted, its doors and windows all closed.
• I stand still in front of the tightly locked gates, looking towards the familiar great hall, now blocked from sight by tightly drawn curtains.

• ???: Are you Caroline?

• Startled, I turn and see a beautifully dressed woman. Her face looks strangely familiar.
• Luckily, my memory, well-trained by Aunt Petit, serves me well. I greet the woman formally.
• You: Good day, Countess.

• The lady in front of me is the Countess of Essex, but her maiden name was Lindvall. She's Jesse's sister.
• I've only exchanged a few words with her at tea parties. But her eyes and brows resemble Jesse's.
• In fact, at this moment, I'm reluctant to look into her eyes, which are the exact same shade of purple as Jesse's.
• Countess: I just bid farewell to my parents. I heard that Madam Petit was also leaving for France today. Is that true?

• You: Yes, Aunt Petit will catch the noon train to Dover.

• Countess: Aren't you going to leave with her, Caroline? Or are you going back to Hampshire alone?

• You: No, I've decided to stay in London.

• She looks at me with a hint of confusion, but her eyes are filled with kindness and love.
• Countess: Oh, I see... You must have your own reasons too.

• Her soft voice caresses my heart. She does not ask further.
• Countess: I'll be staying here too. If you ever need any help, you can come to me, Caroline.

• You: Thank you very much, Countess. If it wouldn't be too much trouble for you...

• Countess: Oh, not at all. Most of the people I know have already left, so I'd be very happy if you came to visit me.

• Countess: We can have tea, chat, and talk about—

• Countess: ...

• She abruptly stops speaking, and her lips tremble slightly. My heart is pained by her expression, so I quickly speak up.
• You: I'll come visit you when I'm able, Countess.

• Her eyes glisten with tears. She nods gently at me with a tender smile before turning around and heading towards the carriage.
• Her graceful figure, accentuated by her fine silk clothing, is like a slender, nameless flower before Jesse's tombstone.
• In an instant, it feels as if something grabs hold of my heart and gives it a fierce tug.
• You: Countess!

• She turns around and looks at me quizzically.
• You: I went to Jesse's grave yesterday. I—

I discovered a few things

• You: I discovered... I think... Maybe it's possible that Jesse...

• Her face grows paler with each word I speak, and my courage gradually disappears.
• You: (Should I really speak of the strange circumstances surrounding Jesse's grave? Would it be a good thing for his family to know?)

• A tremendous force presses upon my chest, and I feel incapable of uttering another word.

I'll never forget Jesse

• You: I... I didn't... I won't forget Jesse...

• I forcefully swallow the words that are surging in my heart, and they turn into incoherent sobs.
• Her face grows even paler, but a warm smile spreads across her face.
• Countess: Thank you, Caroline. It's such a pity... Our whole family is very, very fond of you.

• A tremendous sadness weighs heavily on my chest, and I feel incapable of uttering another word.

• Roger Evans: Ah, there you are, Miss Rayes.

• You: Roger?

• A tall man in a tweed jacket casually interrupts our conversation. It's Roger, of course.
• He tips his hat and bows to the Countess, who merely glances sharply at him before turning and boarding her carriage.
• Priscilla also walks up to me, waving goodbye to the Countess.
• Once the carriage has gone, Roger puts his hat back on and turns around to look at me sternly.
• Roger Evans: It's best that what just happened doesn't happen again, Caroline.

• You: What do you mean?

• His accusatory tone causes my brow to furrow.
• Priscilla murmurs softly, "Not again," and tugs at his sleeve forcefully. But Roger pays no attention to her.
• Roger Evans: We just discovered a few unverified details yesterday, and now you're spreading them all around town?

• You: That's not what I was doing!

• You: The Countess isn't just anybody. She's Jesse's sister. She's his family!

• Roger Evans: So?

• You: You—

• Priscilla covers her eyes, sighs, and gives up on her futile attempts to ease the tension.
• Roger Evans: Even as Jesse's friend, you couldn't accept the idea of opening his coffin to aid our investigation. Would his family?

• Roger Evans: We still don’t know exactly what happened at Jesse's grave.

• Roger Evans: In case Jesse Lindvall has truly transformed, we cannot just inform his family willy-nilly.

• Roger Evans: If you're really his friend, please put yourself in his shoes and think about it from his perspective.

• Roger Evans: No one would accept their loved ones turning into a monster.

• That word ignites the fury in my heart.
• You: You have no right to presume what the Lindvall family would think.

• Roger Evans: Perhaps. But you have no right to presume what Jesse Lindvall would have wanted either.

• I look up angrily, but Roger just gazes calmly back at me.
• Roger Evans: Face reality, Caroline. For Jesse Lindvall's family, the best thing would be for them to believe that Jesse is dead.

• Roger Evans: A normal death, while sad, can be accepted. But an unnatural life beyond death is a different story.

• Roger Evans: You'd better give up on the absurd notions that love and affection overcome the odds and everyone lives happily ever after.

• You: I'm not that naive, Roger. But humans and the Blood Clan have coexisted before.

• You: I just feel like Jesse's family is more deserving than us to know about Jesse's situation—

• Roger Evans: Do you really think so?

• He stares at me strangely. I suddenly feel like I'm choking.
• Roger Evans: Do you really think the Lindvall family is completely unaware of these circumstances?

• —that morning, only a simple, hasty funeral was held, almost devoid of proper etiquette.
• Roger Evans: Do you really think that the strange condition of Jesse Lindvall's body didn't arouse their suspicions?

• —Doctor Grey’s serious, secretive expression.
• Roger Evans: Do you really think the Lindvall family left London just to avoid the epidemic?

• —the grand gates are locked, and the mansion is silent. There is only the lonely figure of an abandoned woman who has lost the protection of her family.
• Roger Evans: You know what these upper-class families are like, Caroline. Otherwise, why didn't you tell the Countess everything just now?

• Roger Evans: Have you ever wondered why Lindvall's family left, but she stayed behind?

• I have nothing to say in response. Priscilla sighs softly as she listens to our argument.
• Priscilla Barnet: Everyone knows that it's because she married the Earl of Essex, who was already in his sixties, as his third wife...

• Priscilla Barnet: It was through her marriage that the Lindvall family became prosperous.

• Priscilla Barnet: Now the Earl is bedridden, and she has to stay by his side and take care of him.

• Priscilla Barnet: Otherwise, all the upper-class families in England would point fingers at her and say she's not respectable.

• —"Yes, my sister is the esteemed Countess of Essex. Oh, what a proper and yet suffocating marriage."
• Jesse's helpless, indignant expression flashes through my mind.
• I suddenly feel my legs go weak. Priscilla purses her lips, just as angry as I am, as she pats my shoulder.
• You: (Yes... I should have thought of that.)

• As I recall the Countess's lonely, helpless figure, I feel the genuine love and care my aunt had for me even more deeply.
• Even though she and I have different views on life and marriage, her motives were always good.
• You: ...I understand. What I did just now was indeed inappropriate.

• I take a deep breath, collect myself, and look back at Roger.
• He looks stunned for a moment, as if he didn't expect me to admit my mistake so quickly.
• You: I won't disclose the findings of our investigation to anyone else until the truth comes to light.

• You: Now that Aunt Petit has left London, I have more freedom to act.

• You: Why don't you both come to my house to discuss what to do next? What do you think?

• Roger Evans: ...

• Roger doesn't immediately respond. Instead, he glances at Priscilla.
• Roger Evans: Your description of Caroline in your letter was spot on.

• You: Hmm?

• Roger Evans: She's serious by nature, honest, and sometimes too strict, but she's not one of those dull people. She's a misfit like me.

• Priscilla Barnet: Roger!

• Priscilla is bright red with embarrassment as she turns to him with a huff.
• You: I'm not worthy of such high praise.

• Upon hearing my respectful tone, Priscilla looks disgusted.
• Priscilla Barnet: You shouldn't talk that way, Caroline. Don't be pretentious.

• You: It's a sincere expression of my admiration, Priscilla.

• She awkwardly averts her gaze, blushing furiously.
• Roger and I both smile at Priscilla's rare moment of embarrassment, our quarrel put aside for the time being.

• If Jesse has really become a member of the Blood Clan, how will his family react?
• Or rather, what I am truly pondering is—how should I, along with Doctor Grey, approach this situation?
• Monster.
• Roger's cold word still linger in my ears.
• I seem to hear Doctor Grey say this word in the same chilly tone.