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Annette did not wake up for several days.

In a corner of the room with little light, Heiner sat pensively. His dark gray eyes remained fixed on the face of the woman lying on the bed.

He was afraid that her pale, closed eyes would never open. His head knew that guarding his seat like this would make no difference, but his body did not obey reason.

He rubbed his face, feeling out of it from not sleeping properly. His usually neat appearance was now completely disheveled.

“Fortunately, the wound is not deep enough to kill her.”

That was what the doctor said. In the first place, it was difficult to die by slitting her wrists. That was the part that Heiner also knew.

But Annette did not wake up. He didn't need all those words about not dying from such a thing. She did not wake up. That was the only conclusion left.

The doctor gave various reasons for this.

First, she was still not fully recovered from the aftereffects of the previous gunshot wound and miscarriage. Even if she had not, she was at a point where she needed more time to recover, and the combination of these events had left her completely debilitated.

Also, it was not 'enough to die', but the wound itself was quite deep, so he said that she was probably in shock due to excessive bleeding.

Finally, he said it might be a matter of the patient's own will.

He said it might be because the patient didn't want to wake up.

“Annette."

Heiner mumbled in a cracked voice.

“Annette Valdemar.”

Despite countless attempts to pronounce it, it was still an unfamiliar name. He chuckled briefly and slowly bowed his head.

“It makes no sense that you did that. The idea that you did such a thing... impossible."

Heiner couldn't look at her face and kept his eyes on the floor as he continued.

"You're afraid of many things. You're afraid of the dark, you're afraid of heights... you're afraid of water... you're afraid of blood..."

His throat tightened. Heiner gritted his teeth.

She was a woman of many terrible things. She was a timid and weak woman. She was just a woman who had been raised so beautifully without knowing anything truly unfortunate and miserable.

Even now, his opinion had not changed. Annette's decision to end her life was not because she suddenly had the courage to die.

It was just because her life was more frightening than death right now.

'You got what you wanted.’

A faint whisper echoed in his mind.

‘She is unhappy enough to die. Just like you wanted.'

Yes. He had wished that the woman, who had lived her life enjoying only every beautiful and good thing, would be terribly unhappy at one time. As he had been.

‘There were times I wished you were dead. It would be so much easier on my mind if you could just disappear from the world.'

At one time, he wanted that. Many times he thought about killing her. But in the end, he couldn't.

In the end, he couldn't.

But it turned out like this.

His large upper body gradually crumpled on the bed. He was slumped in a crumpled heap and buried his face in his hands.

Where did it go wrong? What should he have done? What exactly did he want?

After a few inconclusive questions, he mumbled dangerously.

No.

At least not like this.

You can't leave me like this.

This is not what I wanted.

What I wanted was............

His thoughts stopped quickly, as if something in his head had broken. The whispers somehow vanished, and only a muffled ringing in his ears.

Heiner sat motionless for a long time with his face buried in his hands.

***

The news of Annette's suicide attempt was widely reported in the newspapers. The entire residence was in an uproar.

Rumors spread before Heiner could do anything about it.

The capital was abuzz with the story. There was sympathy, but the prevailing opinion was that her actions were just a show to get attention and sympathy.

In front of the official residence, reporters gathered busily from morning. Heiner stood by the window and looked down at them with downcast eyes.

He had always been an advocate of freedom of speech, but now he felt like shooting the reporters who had gathered like a herd.

The butler, who had been hesitant for some time in Heiner's ferocious presence, approached cautiously.

"Commander, the madam’s guest has come to visit… what shall we do?"

Heiner replied, still keeping his gaze outside.

"Tell them that she’s in no condition to see anyone right now and send them away.”

“Well, he said if he can't see madam, he'd like to see the commander.”

“Who is it?"

“Mr. Ansgar Stetter. He has visited the madam before.”

"Just send him…”

Heiner, who was about to tell the butler to dismiss the man, stopped speaking for a moment. He sighed quietly.

Ansgar Stetter was one of the last people he wanted to see right now. But whatever it was, it was better to settle it now than to make a scene after Annette woke up.

“Bring him to the reception room in the main building.”

The butler bowed his head and left. Heiner glanced at the old man’s back. He was the eldest son of a family that had held the position of butler for generations.

After the Revolution, many people who had worked for the nobility had lost their jobs. The general butler of the official residence was currently one of them.

Heiner, who was the leading force of the revolution, created jobs in entities seized from the nobility and in newly established public institutions.

He also gave priority to those who were in the employ of aristocratic families.

But it was not enough. Other problems littered the landscape. Not every part of the revolution was good.

All the responsibility and obligations were placed on Heiner, who had somehow become a hero. Sometimes he wanted to throw it all away. But he couldn’t.

Justice of the cause? Belief? It was not for such things. Heiner knew that such hyperbole did not suit him.

It was solely because of her.

Because of his low inferiority complex and his desire for revenge.

Heiner's gray eyes darkened even more. The reporters were still buzzing on the first floor. He gripped the window frame tightly and then released it.

****

As soon as Ansgar saw Heiner, he grabbed him by the collar.

"You bastard ......!"

Even though Heiner was able to shake him off easily, he stood still. Ansgar growled.

“I guess you feel better now, huh? Are you relieved now that you’ve made Annette like that!”

"..."

"...a human bastard without blood or tears..."

"..."

“Why, do you feel offended to hear this from a trashy nobleman? Feeling dirty? You had so much fun when you trampled on the nobles’ families, right?"

"...."

“Speak, bastard."

“You have a rough mouth."

Heiner shook off Ansgar’s hands and adjusted his collar. Ansgar’s neck reddened when Heiner shook off his hands with vain ease.

Although he was not as good as Annette, Ansgar Stetter was also a decent groom who boasted the epitome of aristocracy. But he had changed, just as Annette had changed over the years.

Heiner took a step back from him and asked in a dry tone.

“Why are you here?”

“I came because I couldn't trust a bastard like you with Annette's life. That’s why.”

"..."

"Maybe you could take this opportunity to kill Annette. If she dies, you're the killer."

“If I was going to kill her, I would have done it long ago."

Heiner gave a small sneer. Just as Ansgar thought he would fire something back, Heiner opened his mouth, his face completely devoid of laughter.

“So you're going to take her?"

“Yes.”

“Where to, France?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I would give Annette to some monarchy retro force?"

“So you think you’re going to live like this for the rest of your life without getting divorced?"

"..."

"It's a loss for you too, having Annette with you. And you know that even if I took her to France, she would pose no threat to you.”

Ansgar was not wrong. At least in Padania today, the forces of the restoration of the monarchy were not strong enough. Perhaps they would want a separate dynasty for themselves.

And for that, they needed Annette. She was of royal blood, the most legitimate of the old nobility now living, and young enough to produce heirs.

In other words, Annette's descendants could follow in the royal footsteps.

‘.... only superficially…’

Annette's infertility was a matter not known to the outside world. She had no utility value that the restorationists desired.

Would Ansgar still want to take her if he knew this? Heiner did not know.

“You are not wrong, but Ansgar Stetter.”

Heiner held his breath for a moment, then exhaled slowly.

“I can't just give her to you.”

“Ha…” Ansgar shook his head in disbelief. “Still not enough? How much longer...... are you going to make Annette unhappy?"

Heiner couldn't answer. Because he himself didn't even know the answer to that. He slowly closed and opened his eyes.

For a moment the bloody scene grazed his vision.

That woman can't leave me.

The sentence circulated in his head like a categorical imperative with the back and front removed. Heiner repeated it as if to brainwash himself.

She can't ......leave me.

***

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Heiner could not take his eyes off the last sentence for a long time.

He noticed a step late that a faint smile was drawn on his lips. Heiner touched his mouth with a trembling hand.

Unable to resist, he opened a few more envelopes. One by one, the fragments of memories he had tried to keep hidden came to light.

Everything was a lie, but it was the happiest time of his life. The moments when he wanted to forget everything and live in peace like that. He wished that the future would never come…

“I’m sorry." (A)

Her words came to his mind suddenly as if he had been hit on the back of his head.

“Just everything…” (A)

Annette was not a woman accustomed to apologies. She was a woman who, even after a fight, could not speak directly to him, but only delivered letters later.

“I'm sorry, Heiner.” (A)

Even then, the first part usually began with a criticism, and the word sorry was sometimes preceded by the qualifier ‘I'm sorry, too, to a certain extent.’

“Even for the things I don't know." (A)

She wasn't the kind of woman to apologize, at least not in that way.

Heiner's face tightened as he looked at the letter of mercy  in the pile of letters on his desk. The uneven handwriting and spacing between the lines seemed to speak for her inner feelings.

The blood slowly drained from his face as he traced the disordered handwriting.

Sleeping pills she had saved up for months. The crooked embroidery on the handkerchief, the way she walked absentmindedly into the sea.

The answer was that there was no need to change her doctor.

The traces she had been showing were opposite to the woman he knew, the traces he was suspicious of came together one by one.

She was not that kind of woman.

Ah.

Since when did she stop being the woman he knew?

A terrifying feeling of foreboding ran down his spine.

Without time to reflect further rationally, Heiner jumped up from his seat. The chair was pushed back with a loud thud.

He strode out into the hallway without closing the door to his office. The sound of his shoes echoed heavily in the vast hallway.

He wasn't sure. It might have been a groundless fear. Maybe he was just being oversensitive. But his steps didn't stop and became faster.

Major Eugen, who was on his way home late, called him with a surprised look on his face.

“Your Excellency ......?”

The question of what was wrong was added, but Heiner walked past him without even looking at him.

All the way to Annette's room, his heart pounded horribly. He was the kind of man who never held frivolity without certainty, but it was hard to ease his anxiety.

Leaving the eastern government office and passing through the gardens, Heiner entered the main building. The servants greeted him hurriedly at the unusual presence of the Commander-in-Chief.

As he ascended the stairs, he could see the door to her room. Heiner caught one of the passing servants and asked.

“Where is the madam?"

"Yes? Oh, she is probably in her room. She's tired and going to bed.”

He turned toward the room without further questioning. With each step closer, the horrible premonition became more vivid.

Heiner stood at the door and knocked twice, calling for her.

“Madam…”

Before she could reply, he knocked again impatiently.

“Madam, are you inside?"

Heiner waited to hear the usual small voice. He hoped for a whispered reply without the characteristic force.

Then he would be able to leave, scoffing that he had been foolish and that she was not a reckless woman after all.

But there was no sign of her inside. Heiner quickly opened the door.

The room was frighteningly quiet. Things were neatly arranged, and the bed was tidy, with no signs of having been laid down. The strange silence made his heart pound for an instant.

"Annette!"

Heiner walked around the room with razor-sharp eyes, calling her name. A servant came along with anxious eyes at the commotion in the room.

He checked the closet and even the powder room, but there was no sign of her anywhere. Finally he walked to the bathroom.

“Annette!"

He had no reason left to knock on the bathroom door. Heiner yanked the doorknob roughly.

As soon as the door opened, a terrible scent of roses stung his nose along with a misty steam. Meanwhile, something faintly emanating from the mist caught him.

The smell was disgustingly familiar. His head felt cold.

Before his mind could register that this was the smell of blood, the scene in the bathroom rushed before his eyes. Heiner stopped. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. After a moment's interval, his pupils gradually dilated.

A sharp pain passed through him as if a giant needle had penetrated his head.

He tried to shout her name, but his voice failed him. Heiner rushed over and pulled out Annette’s wrist, which was submerged underwater, to check her condition.

Her pale face stung his retina painfully. Fortunately, she was still breathing. But she was in danger of stopping at any moment.

A servant who then checked the bathroom gasped and covered her mouth. Heiner did not look back, but shouted ferociously.

“Get a doctor! Now!"

The servant, belatedly came to her senses, rushed to call a doctor.

Heiner pulled Annette out of the water. The red-tinted water dripped down like a shower. His clothes were soaking wet.

Like a broken doll, her body sagged in his chest was a horrific mess. Anxiety overtook him more than when he was waiting for his abuser in the torture chamber.

“No, no, Annette, no…”

Heiner moved Annette to the bedroom, mumbling like a madman. He tried to hold her tightly to his chest, but he couldn't because he felt like she was going to break.

After laying Annette on the bed, he took a handkerchief from his pocket. He reached over and grabbed a water cup to wet the handkerchief with cold water.

The glass he accidentally touched fell and cracked. He poured the water on the handkerchief, not caring.

The stream of water kept falling in odd places due to his hands shaking maddeningly.

He wrapped the wet handkerchief around Annette's wrist and lifted her arm above her heart. Instantly the handkerchief turned red. Heiner's eyes shook.

There was too much blood. Too much to think it was blood from her little body.

Heiner had had many wounds like this, or worse than this. But he felt completely different. He had never felt such fear, even when he had killed someone for the first time.

“It's all right, it's going to be okay....... Annette....."

Heiner repeated the mumbling, not knowing whether he was talking to her or to himself. Meanwhile, the doctor burst into the room.

While he was unable to speak  for a moment due to the situation in the room, Heiner opened his mouth.

"Help her.”

The doctor winced at the murmur that spilled out threateningly.

“Save her!"

Heiner shouted in a gravel voice.

His words sounded like a threat, or perhaps a plea of someone driven to the edge of a cliff.

The doctor hastily examined Annette's condition and prepared to treat her. Others assisted with the treatment and covered Annette's body with blankets to maintain her body temperature.

While the first aid was being administered, Heiner stood guarding his seat, not moving an inch. His face was as pale as Annette's.

It was hard for him to breathe, as if his airways were filled with water. Heiner gasped for breath as if the air was scarce.

His eyes slowly rolled from left to right.

A thin body lying motionless, a sheet soaked with red water, a blood stained handkerchief, the doctor's moving hands, thin fingers hanging helplessly............

The whole series of scenes did not connect smoothly and looked disassembled in pieces. In the midst of this disharmony, Heiner absentmindedly bit his lips.

‘How did you...'

How can you do this?

You can't do this to me.

You shouldn't be doing this to me.

You must despair as I despaired. You must lose what I have lost.

You have always been there in my unhappy moments, so I must be there in yours.

For as my life has been too long and dark, so must yours...

Your life too .............

Somewhere in his head seemed to crack. The doctor shouted something to the assistants, but the voices sounded distant.

Heiner took an involuntary step back. And he couldn't move for a long time.

***

In the dream, Heiner was standing in the middle of a rose garden.

Annette was with him. A green jeweled pin was in her wavy blond hair, fluttering in the wind.

Her sky-blue dress and blue emerald necklace shone in the sunlight.

Heiner remembered this moment clearly. It was the moment he first formally met her.

But Annette's face was red like it had been rubbed with red crayons. Only her smiling mouth was visible beneath it.

Annette tilted her white parasol slightly with a small smile.

“Heiner. What are you thinking about?”

This was also a dream. Annette did not say this at the time. Heiner looked down at her somewhat suspiciously and answered.

“I am thinking of you.”

“Of me? What kind of thoughts?”

“When I first met you........”

“Isn't it here? The rose garden of Valdemar's mansion. My father introduced you to me.”

“No, before that.”

“Before that?”

“Before that.”

Annette tilted her head as if she had no idea.

Somewhere along with the wind came the melody of a piano. Annette's shape was swept by the wind. Soon she turned to dust and vanished without a trace.

Heiner slowly looked behind him, following the source of the sound.

The sound of a piano was streaming from inside the mansion through the open window. He stepped toward it as if possessed.

The closer he got, the clearer the sound of the piano became. Arriving at the window, Heiner stood stunned and stared inside.

A girl in a white dress was playing the piano in her room. Her small hands went back and forth over the keys like waves. Soft melodies rose and fell in the gentle shimmering sunlight.

It was a figure that could never be erased from his memory.

Heiner looked down. A rich bouquet of woven lilies and hydrangeas lay by the window.

Whoosh.

The wind blew again from a distance. The petals of the bouquet swayed helplessly. Suddenly the sound of the piano stopped. The girl turned her head to the window.

He woke up from his dream.

***

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 Excluding the circumstances before and after, Annette was a victim, at least in this case. She had every right to forgive the sinner.

But Heiner still looked uncomprehending. He said in a tone of exasperation,

"Are you going to be a saint?"

At that, Annette laughed softly.

“You know I can't do that."

It was funny. Because if you had to name the least qualified woman to be a saint in Padania, it would definitely be her.

“Catherine didn't ask me for leniency. I just made my own decision. And ......."

Annette stopped speaking at the gaze she suddenly felt. Their eyes met, with a small smile still on her face.

The air ceased to flow. Heiner continued to stare, not looking away. After a few moments of silence, he muttered with a somber expression.

“… It's been a long time since I've seen you smile like that." (H)

In a flash, the smile disappeared from Annette's face. She unconsciously raised her hand to cover her mouth. Their eyes met again.

Annette slowly lowered her hand. A quiet voice flowed through the room.

“I'm sorry." (A)

"...."

“I don't resent you.” (A)

“I don't know what you're talking about." (H)

Annette tried to smile at him again, but for some reason it didn't work the way she wanted it to.

"It's just everything......" (A)

"..."

"I'm sorry, Heiner. For everything, even what I don't know." (A)

Annette spoke with the utmost candor, but was not at all upset about her heart or the words she uttered.

She was calm as if she was telling the truth. It was as if she was a person who had exhausted even the least amount of emotion she could show.

It was rather Heiner who was upset. His jaw tightened. Heiner gently clenched his back teeth and chuckled.

“Do you know what you should apologize for?"

Annette didn't answer. She didn't know exactly what answer to give.

She knew that Heiner hated her, but she didn't know if it was just because she was the marquis' daughter or if it was because of some other personal grudges.

Seeing Annette unable to answer, Heiner laughed, half mockingly and half bitterly.

“Just don't apologize to me for the rest of your life.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because it's better that way.”

Annette bit her lips tightly. She was speechless, as if she had swallowed poison that robbed her of her voice. After several attempts, she barely whispered.

“...... okay.”

***

Annette thought as she poured water into the tub. The reason Heiner didn’t want a divorce was that he still wanted revenge.

When one strives through life for a single goal, one often loses his way. They will mistakenly believe that that goal is what they really want.

Such people always realize this only after they have come a long way. That is actually not what they really want.

Annette thought Heiner was in such a state. He was still stuck in the past. As long as she was around, Heiner would be unhappy for the rest of his life.

Steam bloomed softly in the tub. Annette put her hand in the water. Warmth soaked her fingers, a little too much, she thought.

No, actually, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter if he really wanted to maintain a deformed life, tied up in misery together.

She was tired and broken. What Heiner wanted had already come true. However, the period was only shorter.

Annette poured rose water into the hot water. She had poured too much, and the scent of roses was terribly unpleasant, but she didn't mind.

Annette got into the tub with her clothes on. The surface of the water rose high enough for her body to sink. Her tense muscles softened and her eyes became blurry.

She tilted her head back and slowly closed her eyes. Dark, old afterimages flickered in her mind.

“Don't think, Annette. Just live with the flow."

How could she do that?

“You’re good at it."

How could she not think about anything?

She couldn’t possibly turn her back on all the commotion. She couldn’t ignorantly cover her eyes and ears to keep her innocence.

Things required her mind to work. The weight of life, guilt or innocence, the past, the future, responsibility, and cost.

After much thought, the conclusion she reached was clear.

If she was born and raised in the wrong place, if continuing to live her life would hurt someone, then it would be right to abandon it.

Annette grabbed the knife she had left by the tub. The not long day was clouded in vapor.

It was the knife Heiner had given her for self-defense when she met Catherine. She had thought about dying countless times. She even speculated on methods such as falling from a high place, submerging her head in the water, taking pills, shooting herself in the head with a pistol, or cutting her wrists.

In the first case, there were no buildings around that were tall enough to fall and die. A little further out was a bell tower, but the parapet blocked access.

The second one, she couldn't stand it and raised her head, and the third method was no longer an option since Heiner had already taken her medication away.

And the fourth was difficult to execute because of restrictions on firearms use in the private sector. Suddenly getting a gun looked suspicious.

So the last was the one she chose.

Annette did not know exactly where and how deep to cut to die. She had never heard of such a thing in her life.

So she was going to cut it as deep as she could.

Of course she was scared. Annette knew how much it hurt to see blood from the last shooting.

But she didn’t hesitate.

The awful scent of roses stung her nose. Her head hurt, but she felt refreshed instead. She gently put pressure on the hand that held the knife.

Her breathing calmed and sank. It felt like an end to a long period of anguish, conflict, and pain. Annette smiled with a lighter heart.

Congratulations, Heiner.

Your revenge has been successful.

***

The only light in the darkened room was an incandescent lamp. Heiner took out a cigar. The surface of the unlit cigar glowed white.

It was already well past his work hours, but he didn't feel like getting up. He couldn't decide how he should act and react if he ran into Annette at the official residence.

She had never come out of her room anyway.

A cold breeze blew in through the open window. Heiner looked from a distance at the letter of mercy  Annette had left behind. Gradually, it came into focus, and the blurred text became clearer. The contents of the letter of correction remained in its original form. There was not much to it. However, the handwriting was disordered, as if it had been written with her left hand.

Heiner, who had been reading it with a furrowed brow, reached down and opened a bottom drawer. It was filled with bundles of letters and small objects.

He untied the strings of the bundle of letters, pulled out an envelope and opened it. It had elegant handwriting. It was a distinctly different appearance than the messy handwriting on the letter of mercy. At first, Heiner simply compared the handwriting, but before long he began to read the letter.

[To Heiner, who fits everything he says.

Did you think I would be happy if you just sent me a gift after we parted like that? Shouldn’t you have sent even one short note with the gift? The necklace is beautiful. You have as good an eye for jewelry as you do for women. However, you need to learn a little more about the female mind. You may think I am a b*tch when I say things like this, but I meticulously read articles in newspapers and magazines about love fortunes and how to have a healthy relationship…]

Heiner chuckled involuntarily. He had never thought she was a b*tch. If she had been, he would have had her executed much sooner during the revolution.

His eyes steadily moved down the letter, even though he thought it was a really boring story.

[You know, when I'm walking down the street and the clothes on the display case remind me of my next meeting with you. I wish I could wear this on a date, do you ever do that too?

(...... omitted---)

The day before yesterday, I had tea with Coco at a cafe, but I was too tired to listen to what she had to say because I remembered our previous argument. Then, suddenly, Coco brought up several types of stories about male-female relationships. Finally I started to concentrate on the conversation. I was curious to know what type we belonged to---]

Heiner himself did the same. When he was in the army, the biggest saga was how many women the soldiers could charm, and the screw-ups, and about male-female relationships.

Heiner listened to them unconsciously, thinking they were bullsh*t ramblings, but at the same time he always thought of Annette.

He knew that she was not at all suited to such vulgar talk, but he could not stop thinking about her.

Why did he listen to those stories…

[And I mean I am sorry to some extent too, Heiner.

And it means that I love you that much.

AU 714, early summer.

Your Lover, Annette Rosenberg]

***

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Annette nodded her head. As her father said, criminals always said they had committed no crimes.

Having come to the conclusion that it was no big deal, she stood in front of her parents and the photographer. A happy smile was all over her face.

“I’m taking the pictures! One, two, three."

The shutter speed was slow, so Annette had to remain still for quite some time. While she was pouring her heart and soul into a beautiful smile, the commotion that had occurred in front of the concert hall disappeared from her mind.

“Mom, I'm going to rest for a minute. My head hurts from the smell of the flowers."

"The dean should be here soon. Go back quickly.”

Annette went to the window to catch her breath for a moment as the crowd that filled the surrounding area gradually diminished. Her heart was pounding from the tension that had not subsided and the excitement she felt immediately after the performance.

Annette let out a long breath and touched the window pane. As she casually looked out without much thought, something caught her gaze.

In front of the door of the concert hall, two strong men were struggling to drag out a woman.The brown-haired woman held onto a lamppost, unwilling to move.

That seemed to be the commotion her father had mentioned. Annette studied the woman with a faint frown. From the second-floor window, she could see the  situation at the entrance quite closely.

"....!"

The screaming sound could be heard even through the closed windows. After several jostles, one of the woman's arms fell from the lamppost.

It was not difficult to pull her away who had lost her strength. Then the woman whose arms had been grabbed was dragged out.

She struggled and resisted to the end. Her face, scorched with anger, regret, and despair, turned to the second floor window. Annette involuntarily took a step back.

Oh, that face.

A feeling of horror and discomfort, for reasons unknown, crept up her legs. It was as if she had seen the bottom of the human race. Annette shook off the afterimage with misery.

Suddenly, someone grabbed  Annette by her shoulder. Startled, she spun around.

“Ah!"

Ansgar was smiling as he raised his hands in surrender. His eyes were squinted as he spoke teasingly.

“What, why are you so surprised? Were you having strange thoughts?”

“Strange thoughts..........! It's because you caught me so suddenly."

“Sorry, sorry. By the way, why is the main character here instead of mingling?”

"Oh, I just saw a commotion outside.”

“Commotion? What happened? It is not a big deal, is it?”

"No, just a person who was displeased with the trial......"

Annette looked back, stretching her words. The woman had already been taken away. It had been peaceful outside for some time.

Annette turned her head again and said monotonously.

"...They were making a fuss."

***

The woman in her memory and the expressionless face in front of her overlapped.

Annette slowly lowered the hand that was covering her mouth. Her throat was tight. She reached for her teacup, but it was shaking so badly that it made a loud rattling sound.

“My brother was shot the next morning. There was no appeal. Because it wasn't a trial in the first place." [C]

Annette was barely quenched, and it tasted nothing.

“When I heard the news of the fall of the royal family, I had high hopes. I hoped that the man would apologize properly and receive the appropriate punishment. But the next morning the news of the death of the Marquis was in the paper…. He was killed immediately after a gunshot by the revolutionary troops at his mansion---well, that was how it ended. Without a word of apology." [C] (*Remember, Catherine has two brothers, James who died back then, and David who shot Annette)

The more Catherine continued to speak, the more disgusted Annette's face became. It was an emotional face that seemed to crack when touched.

Annette struggled to swallow  a groan. Somewhere in her head she could hear her ears ringing and Catherine's voice overlapping.

“I am not asking for leniency or agreement. I know there are situations where violence is the only language, but this was not one of those situations. My brother committed terrible things against the madam. I have nothing to say on that point. My brother must be punished." [C]

"..."

“But I just---I wanted to tell you once. I wanted you to know how my other brother died." [C]

Catherine dropped her gaze for a moment then looked at Annette. Her dry voice flowed out quietly.

“Is ignorance a sin? Can I really blame you for this? I still could not come up with an answer. Maybe I will never find the answer. So I am not saying this because I think the madam is guilty." [C]

"...."

“This is all I have to say. I have no more personal feelings than this. I express my sincere regrets for what has happened to you. Please accept my best wishes for a speedy recovery of your body and mind. ......Then."

Catherine stood up after a short silent bow. The thudding of her shoes echoed across the  floor. Annette was still not breathing.

“Annette!"

Why did she have to hear this story?

“We must run away!"

Why did she do it?

"We have to run, now!"

Why was she telling this story…?

Catherine reached the door and grabbed the handle. The cold metal felt on her skin.The moment she tried to turn the doorknob.

“I'm sorry. ......” (A)

Catherine's movements came to a halt at the faintly flowing words.

“Sorry.........." (A)

Her choked voice cracked into a mumble. Annette stopped talking for a moment and bowed her head. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the hem of her skirt.

“I'm really sorry. .........." (A)

Dropped tears left wet marks on her dress.

"I'm sorry. ......" (A)

Annette repeated the words through her tears. She didn't know what else to say. All she could do was repeat the apology like a malfunctioning machine.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. ......” (A)

Catherine turned her head and looked at Annette. Her face was seemingly numb, but there was an old sadness hovering over it.

“...... I see.”

Catherine murmured quietly as Annette’s sobbing slowly subsided.

“I wanted to hear that from someone.” [C]

***

She once told Heiner.

“All the newspapers were saying that all the remnants of the dictatorship must be destroyed. I am not sure what part of me must be destroyed, but you may do so if you wish."

Those were just words of resignation. She didn't say it because she really understood them, felt guilty, or wanted to apologize.

In retrospect, she never once tried to understand them. She never even thought she should understand them.

There has to be a shared point in life for people to understand others.

Annette saw no such point in her life with the revolutionary forces. Even though she was currently entangled with them, it was not of the "shared" kind because it was something she did not know.

"There was your piano concert that day."

But at the completely opposite point, they had shared a moment in their lives.

Annette still did not understand Catherine's life. She couldn't even dare to say she understood. It was arrogance and deception.

A noble with a royal bloodline and a commoner.

A highly educated woman dreamed of becoming a pianist, and a woman selling fruit on the market floor.

The family of a military commander who had captured and executed revolutionary troops.

Even if she tried to fit the pieces of the past together for the rest of her life, Annette would never be able to understand them all.

It was an unchangeable fact, diverged from the footprints already lived.

The only reason she was willing to listen to her story was to face the past.

To know and to judge.

To understand.

Even if it hurt her...

A blanket of cloud retreated, revealing the afternoon sun and brightening the parlor.

Perhaps deep down inside, she knew. That the moment she came to understand them, even a little, there was really nothing that could be undone.

Annette cried for a long time in the empty room.

***

Annette sorted through her belongings and took out the account books and documents from the safe. They were documents related to donations and sponsorships of civic organizations.

She prepared the final financial statements and then organized them for easy viewing by the person in charge. The work was soon done, as it had been steadily prepared for quite some time.

Annette took out a sheet of paper and wrote a letter of mercy for David Buckel.

Then, just in time for Heiner to leave for work, she went to his office.

Although it was a little past his working time, Heiner was still working. When Annette entered his office, Heiner noticed her footsteps and raised his head.

"...... madam."

He was different from how he usually didn't even take his eyes off the papers, but Annette didn't bother to think too much about it.

She approached the desk and held out a piece of paper. Heiner's brow furrowed.

“What is it?"

“It's a letter of mercy.”

“Why did you write this?"

“Because it’s my right."

"You don't have to write it. What did Catherine say to you?"

"Heiner, this is my right."

"..."

"It is my choice."

***

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It was four days later that Catherine Grott visited the official residence.

Shortly after noon, the woman put her bonnet deep over her head and announced her request for a meeting. It was the coldest day since last winter.

Annette asked Heiner to keep no one but herself and Catherine in the parlor. Heiner objected, but she was more persistent than ever.

Eventually, he allowed it on several conditions, including Catherine’s body search. Heiner been had Annette carry a small knife for self-defense.

Annette entered the parlor, fiddling with the folded knife she kept in her pocket. Catherine, who had been sitting in a chair, stood up. The woman had smelled of the cold outside.

Catherine took off her hat and bowed her head. She was a common brunette and had monotonous features, but the two tear dots under her left eye made her look somewhat lonely.

Annette also bowed her head slightly and then raised it. Silence reigned as they sat down, exchanging greetings with only a head nod.

Catherine looked absent-minded. Unable to bear the discomfort, Annette opened her mouth.

“So..."

"Um…."

Their voices overlapped. Annette chuckled awkwardly.

“You first..."

“No, madam, you speak first.”

“It's no big deal, let’s have a cup of tea. ... what kind of tea do you like?"

“Everything is fine."

In response to the answer that came back indifferently, Annette blurted out, saying, “I see….”

This seat seemed cramped and uncomfortable. She could not make eye contact with Catherine and glanced elsewhere for no reason.

Annette knew nothing about the situation. Why did David want to hurt her, what feelings did Catherine have for her, and what was her knowledge…?

The fact that she was alone in this ignorant situation made her very uneasy.

Annette had the attendant serve two cups of warm lemongrass tea. While she was contemplating what to say while the tea was being prepared, Catherine casually inquired.

"Are you feeling well?"

"I feel much better."

"I'm very glad."

Was she sincere? Annette could not accept Catherine's words as they were. Annette's eyes suddenly touched Catherine's belly as she looked down. Noticing where her gaze was, Catherine put her hand on her stomach.

“It's five months."

“.... Ah.”

Catherine was newly married and she was pregnant. Somehow Annette felt strange about the news.

“Congratulations."

Annette struggled to speak in a rough, sandy voice. It was a reaction that was not at all congratulatory, even from her own ears.

“Thank you."

Catherine replied calmly. Annette clenched her hands that were resting on her lap. Her nails dug into her skin.

Her miscarriage was not revealed to the outside world. There was no way Catherine could have known. Annette felt the urge to reveal all the facts to her.

I had a miscarriage.

Because of your brother.

It was 11 weeks.

Will your child be born blessed?

My child was not blessed, no one even knew it existed.

Her words that had no sound, were swallowed into her throat with self control. Annette's hands relaxed.

What difference would it make if she said so? Would she have to pretend to feel sorry for her? What would change anyway?

Nor could she break what Heiner had already stipulated as confidential. It had happened to her, but Annette had no authority. It had been that way for a long time.

A servant brought simple refreshments. but no one touched it. Steam rose quietly in the air.

Catherine, who had been gazing at the surface of the teacup, suddenly opened her mouth.

“The madam must think I came to visit you hoping for a favor, right?"

“...No?"

“No."

"I thought it might not be true."

“Surprising, isn't it? Why is that?"

"I don't know ------."

Annette couldn't make a guess she wasn't even sure about, that the woman was familiar for some reason. Fortunately, Catherine did not question further.

“I came to visit madam because I have something to tell you.”

"..."

“I thought I would meet with you after you had gotten better. So I came a little late on purpose. Although the madam may have hoped I wouldn't visit."

“No, I ......”

Annette quickly denied it, then hesitated for a moment, not knowing what to say.

“..... not really.”

“I see."

Catherine's lips went up slightly. It was a smile without sincerity.

“Madam is a little different from what I expected.”

Catherine's smile grew a little wider as a question mark appeared on Annette's face.

“I thought you would be more arrogant and self-righteous."

“Ah..."

“Because you’re an only child.”

Annette, Marquis Dietrich's only daughter, chewed the previously omitted word alone.

“Well, a lot of time has passed. A lot has happened. People change."

The words had a strange connotation. Annette couldn't find an answer, so she just kept silent.

In the past, she would have tried to prove that she was not such a person. But now she had no such will.

Annette thought inwardly that she might really be such a person. Only she was just unaware.

“Do you have any relatives?”

"...There were a few, yes."

"You must have been very close to them, yes? Especially since you are an only child."

“We were good friends.”

Annette did not understand why Catherine would ask such a question, but she answered as asked.

“I guess you weren’t very close.” (A)

“My relatives lived in other parts of the country. I have one older brother and one younger brother. We grew up together, as most families do."

Catherine, who naturally brought up her personal history, continued her words like flowing water.

“My brother graduated from the academy and got a job at a trading company. He was an ambitious man. He always wanted to rise to a higher position.”

Catherine's eyes became a little watery as she slowly traced her past. Annette recognized those eyes.

“My brother tried hard to rise to a higher position. He worked hard at his job, he flattered his boss to make him look good, and he did some dirty things. He did everything he could to get that position."

It was nostalgia.

“But my brother failed to get promoted every time. I heard that the branch manager was an aristocrat and he stole all my brother’s credit. Then he (the manager) promoted his own son. Apparently James could put up with the former but not the latter. I'm not sure what the criteria are..... anyway."

Catherine seemed oblivious to the fact that she had subconsciously said her brother's name. Annette repeated the name quietly.

James.

James….Buckel.

“My brother joined the revolutionary army after that.” Catherine sighed. “Not much of a reason, is it?”

But Annette had no response. From the moment the word "revolutionary army" was mentioned, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

“The Revolutionary Armed Forces, although the name seems plausible, were actually mostly people like my brother. Not particularly out for any great cause or ability, just ...... ordinary, maybe even a little insignificant.” [C]

After the revolution, radio and newspapers highlighted the heroic aspect of each revolutionary soldier. It was a good way to push the legitimacy of the revolution and to create public opinion at the same time.

“To be honest, I didn't know much about the Revolutionary Army. I didn't want anything to do with it. But I'm convinced, though, that my brother wasn’t assigned to any important work there. He would have been just a sacrifice at best." [C]

Annette patiently resisted the urge to walk away immediately. She didn't want to listen. But she had to listen. She didn't want to hear. But she still had to. But still...............

“Five years ago, the hunt for the revolutionary army was in full swing. Many people were sought out and taken away, and my brother was one of them." [C]

Why did she have to listen to this? Annette thought.

“At that time, the person in charge of the interrogation was  Marquis Dietrich. Inquisition---torture, you might say. Anyway, that was brought to a very quick conclusion.” [C]

Why did she want to listen?

“The conclusion was that my brother was a spy of a hostile country who had come to Padania to start a civil war, and that he would be sentenced to death according to the National Security Law. The Marquis finished his interrogation quickly and immediately went somewhere. Like someone with urgent business." [C]

Why was she telling this story?

"There was a piano concert for you that day." [C]

At that moment, Annette remembered where she had seen the woman. Annette's face rapidly paled.

She involuntarily covered her mouth with both hands. If she didn't, strange noises were going to pop out.

***

She was 23 years old. After a successful recital, Annette was baptized in celebration with several bouquets of flowers.

She was unnerved by the crowd that had gathered around her. The lights were dazzling, the scent of the large bouquet of flowers she held to her chest was strong, and the people's praise made her dizzy.

“Honey, take a picture of the three of us together."

"Right this way, father!"

"Oh, yes. I have to take a picture with my daughter, of course...Oh, wait a minute. You want to take pictures with others first?”

Suddenly a man hurriedly approached and whispered something in the Marquis Dietrich's ear. Annette nodded her head and took a picture with her friends.

The man's words somehow made the Marquis angry. Annette stopped laughing at her friends' jokes and looked back at her father.

"Don't ...... cry ...... now ......."

“The reporters….”

After a short conversation, Marquis Dietrich waved the man off. He had an annoyed expression.

Suspicious, Annette asked her father what was going on. Marquis Dietrich faked it, but had no choice but to vaguely answer his daughter's persistent question.

“Someone is making a fuss in front of the concert hall.”

“A fuss? Who? Why?”

“It's probably because they are dissatisfied with the trial. Idiots who do not know the strictness of the law are the law everywhere. Don't mind it."

****

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The next morning, Heiner visited Annette’s room with the newly hired attending physician. The doctor, who appeared to be in her mid-40s, had a very kind smile on her face.

“Hello, madam, I'm Mila Lauren. I studied family medicine at Verden University and have been a specialist at Lancaster Cross Hospital for 12 years. I promise to do my best."

"Uh, yes. I’m Annette......."

It felt strange somehow to put Heiner's last name after her name. Annette hesitated for a moment, then added.

" ...... Valdemar. I look forward to working with you.”

At that momentary interval, Heiner's strange gaze touched her and then fell away. Annette folded and averted her eyes.

Mila Lauren, not noticing this, simply smiled softly and continued.

“I have been informed of your previous situation. I will take special care to ensure that no drug abuse or overdose occurs. By the way, madam, I heard that you received psychological counseling while you were in the hospital."

“Yes, just a few times."

“I'm not sure about that one, so why don't you try to get a separate counselor?"

“If you wish, I can call the same counselor that we have at Lutheran Hospital.”

Suddenly, Heiner interrupted. Annette's brow furrowed slightly in discomfort.

She didn't want them to think she had mental problems.

The same was true even if it was just a consultation. Socially, it was never considered a good idea to seek psychological counseling.

The perception of it was better than in the past, but it was still the same among the close minded aristocrats.

A history of mental illness could bar a person from marriage.

This was a very important issue since the nobles were usually married for political reasons.

Annette was a rare case of a love marriage, but the thinking of the privileged class was embodied in the same way.

Even now that the aristocracy had fallen, the thinking that was etched into the marrow of their bones could not be easily erased.

"I don't need a consultation."

"Oh, madam. There’s nothing to be wary of.”

Mila Lauren, who had once taken on the role of attending physician to an aristocratic family, noticed Annette's reluctance.

"A simple psychological consultation is almost mandatory in children's schools these days."

“No, I really don't need it."

In fact, it was ridiculous to worry about reputation now. Adding at least one more rumor of mental illness to an already rock-bottom reputation was not going to change anything.

But Annette still didn't like it. She hated seeing people pretending to be concerned about her miscarriage, and she hated the mention of it in the first place.

She wanted to live as if nothing had happened. As if the child had never existed in the first place. And most of all...

“I could lock you up in a mental hospital for the rest of your life if you continue to go against my will like this."

Lately, Annette had sometimes wondered.

Perhaps she had really gone mad.

At one point or another, she felt as if her mind was floating. It was as if she was standing on the borderline between reality and dreams.

Under pressure or stress, the feeling would intensify.

She was likely to find herself in that state of mind when she sought advice. Annette was not particularly cooperative in psychological consultations at Lutheran Hospital, even giving lies for answers.

'First of all, I understand what you mean, madam. Still, please take your time and think about it more. I will leave a consultation form here for you to fill out when you have time."

Mila Lauren placed some papers on the table, but Annette did not look at them.

While Heiner watched, Mila Lauren briefly checked her condition. It was close to a formal medical examination, as she had already undergone the tests at Lutheran Hospital.

"Well then, madam, if there is any discomfort, you can call me anytime. As I said, please be sure to take your medications only as prescribed."

"Yes."

With a small smile and a greeting, Mila Lauren left the room. Annette stared at her gray hair.

She was a gentle person. A graduate of a prestigious university with a 12-year career as a medical specialist, she must have great ability, and at best, though she was a waste of a doctor to treat someone like her, Annette thought.

“Annette.”

Annette raised her gaze at the quiet call.

“Why do you refuse counseling?”

It was an expected question. And it was an obvious question. In the past, she might have been pleased with a handful of his attention, but now they were all just too annoying.

"I told you. I don't want it."

"I understand your aristocratic perception of psychological consultation, but how long are you going to live trapped in that cliché notion? I think you need it because you have a problem….”

His words trailed off for a moment. Heiner's eyes shook faintly.

“Even if it’s a small problem, you’re hurt.”

"......"

"A cold, a headache, ...... well, something like that. You’re not well.”

The edge of his voice cracked slightly. Annette soaked up the arsenic without noticing it.

"Yes."

To her, his words were just comical.

“I don't think that should be coming from someone who said he was going to lock me up in a mental hospital.”

Heiner's brow furrowed. He moved his lips once and said with a sigh.

“I didn't know you were keeping those words in mind…”

“You told me that just to forget it?”

“I said that only because you keep rebelling."

"...rebel?"

Annette cut him off and asked back. A laughter flowed from her lips.

“Did asking for a divorce seem like rebellion to you?” (A)

“I didn't mean it.” (H)

“I am not the one beneath you." (A)

“I have never treated you as someone beneath me.” (H)

“Bullshit.” (A)

“You're the one who thinks of me that way.” (H)

"...... what are you talking about all of a sudden?" (A)

Immediately Heiner fell silent. An unnatural silence hovered between them. Annette asked again.

“When did I ever consider you as an underling?” (A)

"You always thought so....."(H)

“No, I never did." (A)

“You did." (H)

“No, never. What in the world are you talking about?"

Heiner touched his mouth with a tired expression. His large hand swept over his mouth once, and his low, insensitive expression returned in a flash. It was a remarkably quick change.

“So much for that. I didn't mean to fight you."

There had been countless conversations broken off like this. But Annette neither refuted nor added anything.

Conversation was an attempt only with the person who had the possibility of restoring the relationship.

In that respect, Heiner was not a person worth constructive dialogue.

Also, Annette did not think much about the future.

"......fill these forms and give them to your doctor.”

Heiner touched the consultation papers for a moment. Annette did not look at the papers until the end.

***

The noon sun shone through the half curtained window. Annette sat by the window and slowly tapped the window frame with her fingertips. The slow, steady sound echoed dully.

Annette was waiting for Catherine Grott inside the official residence.

Catherine did not visit the official residence the next day or the day after. Today marked a week had passed. But Annette waited for her.

Time continued to pass. She didn't call again, and she didn't hear from her, but Annette waited for her.

She did not know how long she would have to wait. But the feeling of waiting for someone was not bad, and Annette felt it was okay if she came very late.

“Ah ......"

Annette, who was looking out the window, involuntarily opened her lips.

Annelie Engels was walking on the first floor with a heavy-looking briefcase. She looked busy.

Annette stared down at her. It wasn't that she had any special personal feeling for Annelie Engels. Her eyes just caught her in passing.

She wondered why she was so busy.

Suddenly, Annelie stopped. Annette looked to the other side where her head was turned.

From there, Heiner, accompanied by an aide, was walking along. He was so large that he stood out from a distance.

Heiner and Annelie greeted each other when they ran into each other as expected. They engaged in some conversation, and Heiner changed direction and began walking by her side.

Heiner held out his hand as if he was about to take the briefcase from Annelie. Annelie hesitantly  handed it over.

Annelie laughed out loud at something they were talking about. Heiner, too, smiled faintly.

Birds perched on the fence flapped and flew up.

A calm gaze stared at the two.

Annette was not familiar with the emotion of jealousy. She had never made the assumption that Heiner would look at any woman other than herself.

It was a little strange to think about it, but it was the same even after her situation was like this.

"I tried to refuse quietly because I had no intention of accepting it in the first place, but the article got out and ...... there was no reversal anyway."

She didn't think those words were lies. She knew that Heiner was not someone who would lie about such things, or at least not someone who would cheat.

Suddenly an empty smile broke out on her lips.

'That's how I’ve been trick into believing them.'

Was the Heiner she knew really Heiner? Was she sure about any of the things she thought she knew about him?

Suddenly, her empty hand with a missing ring caught her eyes. Her ring finger, where the ring had been worn for so long, was slightly thinner at the bottom.

She didn't think it was this empty.

With a strange feeling, Annette looked out the window. The view became clearer. Time slowed down, almost as if it had stopped.

Heiner raised his head, looking her way.

Annette was not particularly surprised, nor did she avoid his gaze. She was too far away to be sure he was really looking at her.

After a moment, Heiner turned his head again. Time, which had stopped, began to flow faster again. The branches of the trees swayed slightly in the breeze.

A light breeze and Annelie's laughter seeped in the slightly open window. The tow carried their steps. A path continued before them.

Annette quietly closed the window.

***

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The call sounded a little farther away than the reporters'. Annette, who had kept her head down the whole time, involuntarily looked to the side.

“I'm ......! I'm ...... of ......."

The woman's voice was again buried in the commotion and the sound of rain. The woman, who appeared to be a civilian and not a reporter, looked very nervous and desperate.

The woman pushed her way through the reporters, shouting what? What did she say? The reporters with cameras looked at her in surprise.

The buzz slowly subsided. Everyone presented was looking at the woman. The woman opened her mouth, staring straight at Annette.

“I am David Buckel's sister!”

Until that moment, Annette had no idea who David Buckel was. It was the first time she had heard the name.

“I have something to say to madam Valdemar!"

Annette's eyes widened slightly.

You want to speak to me? Why?

There were countless words of fuss over Annette. But it was a multitude of situations against her alone, and only reporters were willing to talk to Annette one-on-one.

The reporters began to buzz at the woman's words. A similar interest floated on each person. Cameras and notebooks turned toward the woman.

“David Buckel? Are you the sister of Mr. Buckel who shot madam Valdemar?"

“Did your brother do it on his own will? On what business did you come to see the madam?"

“Have you heard  anything from Mr. David Buckel?"

“I’m Rose Schwartz from Graphic, Inc! Can I interview you separately?"

“No!"

The woman's shrill cry made the surroundings quiet for an instant. She did not look at the reporters, but only at Annette from beginning to end.

For some reason, her clear and emotionless eyes made her heart skip a beat. The woman's lips slowly opened.

“I would like to see the madam in person. I had no choice but to come because I couldn't reach you, and I don't want to do any kind of interview with these people."

"Quickly, clear the area.”

Heiner murmured overhead to his attendants. His voice was cold as usual, but somewhat angry.

“Well then, I’ll look forward to hearing from you, madam."

The woman’s last words were barely audible, drowned out by the reporters' questions. Heiner pulled Annette, who was standing in a daze, to his chest.

"Get on quickly."

“I ......"

“Hurry."

A decisive voice fell.

Annette wanted to get a closer look at the woman's face, but she had to walk, swept away by the force that embraced her shoulders.

"Madam Valdemar, just one reply...."

"You know why............"

All the sounds drifted away from her ears and just buzzed away like noise. Annette breathed in the familiar scent of Heiner.

Her head was dizzy, but only the desperate woman's face was oddly clear on her retinas.

‘Where did I see that woman.....?'

Annette thought inadvertently, and recognized it after a few moments. She quickly turned her head and looked at the woman. Her vision repeatedly blurred and became clearer.

She had seen that woman somewhere before. But she couldn't remember anything other than that vague certainty. Was she a commoner? When had she seen her? Where?

Did she hold a grudge against her then? What the hell did she do to her? If she didn't remember as much, she wouldn't have known her. If she saw her a few times….

‘Is my memory accurate to begin with?'

His tightly closed lips quivered slightly.

Lately, Annette had been living with forgetfulness. She was constantly making mistakes, unable to remember a single trivial detail, while in the past she could remember hundreds of pages of sheet music.

At this point, Annette began to doubt even her own deja vu about women.

While her thoughts were confused, they arrived at the waiting car before she knew it. The attendant opened the car door. Until then, Annette and the woman had not taken their eyes off each other.

Heiner pushed her into the car. He then got in the seat next to her and her view was blocked. With a snap, the car door slammed shut.

Reporters clung to the windows. The car rolled onto the road. The twinkling flashing lights disappeared behind them.

“...... who is she?"

“She’s the sister of David Buckel, the man who was arrested.”

“That's not what I'm asking."

“Then?"

“She wanted to tell me something…”

Annette’s words became slurred. She tried to explain to him what she was not sure of. She felt like he would only treat her like an idiot.

“No.”

A heavy gaze landed on the back of Annette's head as she lowered her head. Heiner asked in a seemingly generous voice.

“What is it that you want to know?"

“Why..."

She trailed off.

"Why did she come to see me?"

Annette looked at her hands on her lap and around in the air and continued to speak in a daze.

“What is her reason for wanting to meet with me personally? She didn't even tell the reporters............."

"It must be because she wanted to help her brother. Don't think too much about it."

“It just didn't seem to be for that reason. And what did she mean she couldn't reach me…?”

Annette looked back at Heiner, as if to pursue the matter.

“You know something, don't you?"

“...she’s sent you a few letters.”

He was surprisingly straightforward and agreeable.

“But why didn't you tell me?"

“I decided it was not necessary to give you, the victim and patient, the letters from the criminal’s sister.”

"I'll be the judge of that, Heiner."

Annette did not believe his excuse. There must be some other reason, she thought. Because there was no way he would take care of her situation like that in the first place.

"Are there any other letters that haven't gotten through to me like this before?"

Heiner did not answer. From the silence, Annette read the affirmation.

She wasn't particularly angry or annoyed. She just felt as if something deep in her chest was worn out. Annette spoke quietly, fiddling with the strap of her handbag.

“I want to meet her."

“Aren’t you going to ask more about the letters?”

“No, it has already passed."

"You mean you don't care anymore if I continue to do so in the future?"

For an instant, Annette's hands stopped. She looked at him with puzzlement. His words were very strange.

'In the future.....?'

Did Heiner assume that they have a future? What exactly did he think the future was? Was he really willing to risk everything and look to the future?

She found it somewhat comical.

“I wondered if the letters had her number or address on it. If not, please look it up. In place of stolen letters.”

“Madam, there's no reason to meet her at all.”

“Nor is there any reason to ask your permission."

Due to her originally weak tone, her words did not sound resolute at all. At first glance, it sounded like an appeal.

However, Heiner nodded without further objection, although he still looked dissatisfied.

“I’ll take care of it. But with personal protection."

She had expected that much, and Annette accepted. For reasons unknown, Heiner’s was not as overbearing as before.

Annette nodded her head as if that were the answer. Fallen leaves swept past the car window. The trees, most of their leaves withered, had somehow become emaciated.

***

The woman's name was Catherine Grott.

Catherine was married for less than six months and lived with her husband in a fruit business on Western Road 23rd Street.

Even after hearing her name and address, Annette could not recall who she was. It was a name she had never heard of before, and there was no contact at all with the place of her address.

Holding the note in one hand, Annette slowly turned the dial on the telephone switchboard. On the note was a phone number.

She dialed the numbers and heard a ringtone. Annette nervously held the phone answer swallowed. After a long ring, the call was connected.

[Yes, this is Brunner Grott.]

“Are you Catherine's husband?"

[Yes, who is it?]

For some reason, she was at a loss for words at the question. Who was she? Annette, who had been silent for a moment, opened her mouth hesitantly.

“Um, to Mrs. Grott...Would you please tell her my message? Tell her to come to my house tomorrow or the day after that, and that I had given her permission to come in and out, so just tell the people at the front gate her name, they’ll know…”

There was a strange tension behind the period. The other party was silent for a while, probably guessing her identity.

Since he was her husband, he couldn't have known about the problem of his wife’s brother.

Annette was nervous, not knowing what the woman had told her husband.

Eventually, a clerical answer came back.

[......I understand. I will pass this on to Catherine.]

“Thank you.”

Annette waited for the other person to hang up first, but the call remained unbroken, only silence. Unable to bear it, she put down the receiver first.

Silence fell with a clank. After that, Annette stood there for a long while, unable to take her hand off the receiver.

In fact, she didn't need to find Catherine first. It was unlikely that she liked Annette, and as Heiner said, it was highly unlikely that her purpose was good.

What did that mean, why did she do it, what feelings did she have for her, what did she want to say, and what she would say back.

Still, strangely enough, Annette felt compelled to listen to her.

Perhaps, for the first and last time, it was an opportunity to face the past.

Even if it hurt her….

***

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The bleeding stopped on the fourth day. After draining all the by-products, she thought it was really over.

At Heiner's request, the doctor checked the medications Annette had been taking. The doctor's expression as he examined the medications was not very good.

“Ummm ...... Synagel is a banned drug for pregnant women to take in the early stages. The doctors usually make it clear if you are pregnant when they prescribe it. Has your doctor ever mentioned the possibility of pregnancy? The symptoms you mentioned are common in pregnant women......... and your menstruation also stopped.”

“No such word specifically ......"

“Hmmm, I see. First, I will prescribe a nerve stabilizer different from this one. The effects will be mild and long lasting.”

Annette nodded. The doctor, who had written something on a form, handed her the prescription.

“And if you take a lot of medicine, you may end up with an overdose headache. The same goes for headache medicine. Do not exceed the durations and dosage written here.”

"Yes."

She just learned that she had taken a drug that was forbidden to pregnant women, but surprisingly, she had no feelings about it.

The accident didn't go well, as if there was a malfunction somewhere in her body, to be precise.

Annette was unable to regain her fuzzy spirit even when the doctor laid out the explanation of the medications she was taking and left the hospital room.

“...the doctor."

Heiner's cracked voice broke the silence.

"Let's change your primary physician.”

Annette slowly turned her head to look at Heiner.

Their eyes of different temperatures met. Heiner stared at her, not moving slightly, like a person who didn’t even breathe. Eventually, Annette slowly shook her head.

“There is no need for that.”

"How many times has he been seeing you and not noticed that you were pregnant?”

“It's all right."

“What do you mean it’s all right?”

Heiner asked back in a rather sharp tone. There was a faint hint of anger beneath his pretty face. It was an unfamiliar expression.

Annette thought he was overreacting. She didn't really care about anything. She didn't need any more doctors anyway.

"Well, it doesn’t matter, so…"

“What do you mean it doesn't matter?"

Annette swallowed the sigh that was trying to escape.

She really didn't want to fight Heiner anymore. Not because she was concerned about her relationship with him, but because she was just tired of draining her mental energy with meaningless arguments.

"Why do you care?"

Annette turned her head, pressing her throbbing temple with her fingers.

"...if you want to change it, change it. You're going to do whatever you want anyway.”

Her voice was full of tiredness. Heiner’s lips were pressed into a thin line and said nothing. An unreadable gaze gathered over Annette's face.

The second hand on the pocket watch chimed regularly. An inertial silence hovered between them. After a while, he spoke up.

“Doctor Arnold is examining not only you, but also me and  the servants of the official residence, and I don't want to hire someone who is not competent or dishonest....... regardless of you."

His voice was softer than before. Annette kept her eyes on the edge of the bed and nodded absentmindedly. The atmosphere that had been tense gradually calmed down.

“...... Annette."

Heiner called her, hesitating for a moment.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that............ Sincerely, whoever is responsible for this be held accountable. Legally and morally."

‘Sorry ......’

His words sounded so strange. Heiner spoke as if he were consoling someone else who had nothing to do with him.

Annette couldn't help but laugh out loud. She would rather him not saying anything.

At least it could have been a silly consolation that he was taking this job as his own.

How much more must she expect and how much more must she be disappointed? She had been utterly disappointed in him for the past three years that she didn't think she could expect any more.

He regretted it.

He was sorry.

Annette had no idea what to make of such cheap sympathy. She wanted to despise him, she wanted to be angry with him, and at the end of the day, everything felt empty.

He was the kind of man who would look at her death with an unchanged face and say, "Too bad." Or at all relieved. Annette chose to change the subject instead of questioning him about it.

"When will I be discharged?"

“When you want.”

“I want to as soon as possible."

“You still need to recover. You still haven't finished your psychological consultation...”

“I told you I don't need a consultation. And I'll call the doctor to the official residence.”

Annette spoke in a firm tone. Her voice was colder than when she spoke of divorce.

In the past three years, Annette had never given a similar order to Heiner.

She was just terrified of not going against his will in the slightest.

Despite her past living as the most prosperous person in the capital, Annette was not comfortable with using the servants. So calling the doctor to the official residence was something she would have said in the past.

"......"

"Why not?"

"Let's do the ...... treatment."

Heiner answered after a few moments of silence. His gaze touched Annette's fingers. Annette followed his gaze and looked down. A rough voice descended over her head.

“Where did your ring go?"

For a moment Annette could not understand his words.

"...... yes?"

"Your ring."

Heiner eyed her ring finger. Annette let out an Ah sound belatedly. The ring finger of her left hand was empty.

‘Should I make the excuse that I left it off because it was inconvenient?'

But there was no reason to make excuses in a situation where she had already requested a divorce. After a few moments of thinking, Annette calmly replied.

“I just took it off.”

“Just?"

"It doesn't make sense to wear it now.”

Annette thought that Heiner

would demand an explanation. Because lately he had been quite sensitive to every single one of her actions.

Unexpectedly, however, Heiner said nothing more. Staring at her empty ring finger for a moment, he then turned his head.

"...... rest."

***

The doctor said there would be no problem if she was discharged immediately. It was not a serious gunshot wound and she was now mostly recovered.

The discharge procedure proceeded rapidly. The fact of the miscarriage did not leak out, but the incident and the hospital where she was staying at the time were described in detail in the newspaper.

“We couldn't prevent the incident from spreading.”

Heiner said, as if in an excuse. However, Annette did not think he should have gone through the trouble for her in the first place.

‘Are being bitten by the public different from actually having one's safety threatened?'

Annette thought numbly and put on her black brimmed hat. Even her dress and shoes were black, making her look like a woman going to a funeral.

Annette slightly pulled back the curtain. The light, dotted with the shadows of raindrops on the windowpane, reflected on the back of her hand.

It was raining outside. Round umbrellas hovered at the entrance of the hospital. It was the reporters who had come to wait for her.

Warmthless gaze scanned the group. Behind her, she heard a knock at the door. Annette answered, still looking out the window.

"Yes."

The door rattled open. A quiet voice echoed behind her.

“I've already taken all your stuff to the car. Let's go.”

Annette finally released her hand from the curtain. The hem of the curtains covered the window glass, glazing it with a pale white light.

She turned around, grabbed her bag on the bed, and left the hospital room. The four attendants followed her in front and back.

“If the reporters gather, don't say anything.”

Heiner, who was walking alongside her, whispered softly. Annette looked up at him.

“They have been waiting impatiently to catch anything. Don't even give a simple answer."

Because of the difference in height, only his sharp jawline and firm lips were visible in Annette's field of vision. Under the bluish hallway lighting, he looked like a large ghost.

"Did you understand?"

" ...I understand."

Annette lowered her head again and replied automatically.

A cold silence hung in the air while they rode down in the elevator for only nobles. Annette pulled down the black veil of her hat. Her fingers began to tremble slightly.

The elevator arrived at the first floor and beeped an announcement. As they entered the lobby through the aisle, the eyes of the people in the building were suddenly focused on her.

The lobby, oddly quiet, felt foreign. Annette kept her eyes on the tips of her shoes and concentrated only on moving with a straight gait. The sound of her heels echoed desolately.

The attendant in the front reached for the entrance door. Annette's shoulders stiffened with nervousness and fear.

The moment the door opened, the sound of rain and chaos came with it. Camera’s flashes burst through the rain.

“She’s out!"

“Turn on the lights!"

“Please look this way!"

"Is it the madam’s will that your medical record be kept private?"

"Do you have any reason to think that this shooting was due to a grudge?"

“Do you have any intention of doing interviews?”

The questions, thrown like shouts, rang in her eyes. The attendants blocked the gathering of reporters. A thin bony knot formed on the back of Annette's hand as she gripped the strap of her bag like a lifeline.

Heiner guarded Annette, almost hugging her. His familiar scent hit her nostrils.

But Annette could not feel at all secure. For a time, she even hoped that these large arms would protect her.

But now that she thought about it, it was impossible to wish for his protection from the start.

Wouldn't it be better if she just covered her eyes so she couldn't see anything?

Shards of broken light bulbs crushed under her heels. Every time the camera flash went off, there was a popping sound.

"...Are you in a secret relationship?”

"...in the course of the statement............"

"...madam!"

In the midst of the commotion, a sharp voice suddenly pierced her ears.

“Madam Valdemar!”

***

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That evening, Annette woke up.

Her body was as heavy as wet cotton. A sharp pain came from her stomach. Annette let out a faint moan and curled up her body slightly.

A black figure appeared at the edge of her half-blurred vision. She blinked her furrowed eyes several times. Slowly it came into focus. It was Heiner.

Heiner looked down at her as if he had seen a ghost. It was so unlike him that Annette mistook it for a dream for a moment.

Heiner called a doctor as soon as he saw that she had regained consciousness. The doctor arrived shortly after and diagnosed her condition.

He said the gunshot wound was not very deep. It was a diagnosis that was nothing compared to the pain that she had felt so horribly. Annette wondered for a moment, but was soon convinced.

Arnold said she was hypersensitive. He said she was sensitive to even the slightest discomfort. Judging from his words, she guessed that she must be hypersensitive this time, too.

After giving some precautions regarding the gunshot wound, the doctor hesitated for a moment and then told Annette that she would be bleeding for the next three to four days. Annette thought it was menstruation.

Normally her menstruation was very irregular. Sometimes it would skip months at a time. She assumed that was the case again.

But the doctor said it was because she had a miscarriage.

Annette could not believe what she heard.

Don't be surprised, as the byproducts left in your womb should come out later.

If the bleeding continues, surgery will have to be performed. The uterus may contract and cause pain in the abdomen..............

The doctor's voice was half disconnected. A blue vein appeared on the back of Annette's hand as she clutched the bedding.

The doctor looked very sorry and informed her that it would be difficult for her to conceive in the future. By then Annette was half lost.

"Well then, you should get some rest."

The doctor bowed politely and left the room. Annette sat in a daze, not having a mind to greet the doctor.

She involuntarily put her hand on her stomach. She could feel the bandages wrapped tightly under the hospital gown.

‘Pregnant---? When? How?’

She hadn't been feeling particularly well lately, but she just assumed it was stress, never dreaming it was pregnancy.

A strange chill came over her. Annette’s shoulders shook lightly. It was a child she had never even known existed, and yet there was a great sense of loss in her stomach.

It was a child whom she would never get to meet, whom she desperately wanted.

“...I kept your miscarriage a secret from the outside world.”

Heiner opened his mouth quietly.

“I will handle all matters concerning the incident myself, so don't worry about that part.”

Annette slowly turned her head to look at him. His words sounded very strange.

'He's going to handle it?'

There was no way that Heiner would handle things in her favor. He normally would let her fend for herself when the reporters bothered her. He was fed up with newspaper stories.

“The perpetrator was apprehended at the scene. We are investigating what his purpose was and whether he had accomplices.”

"..."

"...Currently, the use of firearms is restricted in public and you were pregnant with a child, so attempted murder charges will be strictly applied and punished.........."

"...the child..."

Her voice cracked loudly. Annette didn't care and kept talking.

“How old was the child?"

Heiner stared at her stomach for  a moment, then quickly raised his gaze.

"It was 11 weeks."

This roughly coincided with when her menstruation had ceased. Annette closed her eyes for a long time before opening them again. Her mind was fuzzy.

"Annette, the child is......"

Heiner added heavily with slight hesitation.

"There are ways to adopt a child if you want….."

“Adopt?"

Muttering softly, Annette looked up at him. Heiner's face was, as usual, hard to tell his intentions.

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?"

"So, if you want to raise a child.”

“No, I don't want it. I'm rather glad it happened like this.”

At that, Heiner's brow furrowed slightly. Annette said, lowering the hand on her stomach.

"It was a child who should never have been born."

“What do you mean?”

“It would have been unhappy if it was born. Because it would have to live in a home without love and with a mother with all kinds of labels. I took a lot of medication during my pregnancy, and I don't know if it would turn out all right…”

“I thought you wanted a child."

“Not anymore. And you didn’t want it. Aren’t you glad it happened this way?”

Annette sincerely thought so. There was not a single reason why Heiner would want a child, and there were too many reasons not to want one to count.

But Heiner shook his head defensively. The way he looked was like someone who had been attacked unexpectedly.

"What in the world… Why do you think that?"

"Then, did you ever want to have a child with me? No, you didn't."

"Annette, I just..."

Heiner moved his lips with a look of not knowing what to say.

"I just ...... never thought about having children. The doctors said it’s difficult for you to conceive….and there’s no news in four years.”

“Whatever your true feelings, it’s good for you, Heiner."

Annette's mouth lifted slightly.

"It's not a good political idea, is it, to have a child with me?"

Superficial issues notwithstanding, it was clear that Heiner was lucky. With a child born to a woman he hated. There was no way he could love it.

The miscarriage was a blessing in many ways.

For Heiner, for the child that was never born, and for the people out there.

“But you."

Heiner's speech broke off. His low, resonant voice was tightly closed. He let out a slightly shaky breath and then sighed.

“You wanted a child, didn't you?”

“….What about it?"

“Why is it different now? Knowing that I betrayed you? Not much has changed between us then and now anyway."

Heiner's eyes were dark and sunken. He looked like a giant shadow as he sat in his chair with his head half bowed.

“What does this have to do with you, whether I want it or not?”

“Annette, I am not trying to argue about superiority.”

"Then what exactly is it that you want to discuss?"

"Just because you have wanted it in the past - that you could consider adoption."

“I don't want it anymore!"

Annette's voice rose. She spat the words out, half out of reason.

“I don't want it anymore. I don’t need a child. I’m glad I didn’t have one! Why do you insist on it…!”

The last words sounded almost like a scream. Annette's lips trembled violently. The atmosphere became precarious like cracked glass.

Heiner sat in shock, stiff as a frightened animal. A heavy silence descended. In the silence, only Annette's breath fluctuated unsteadily.

For a while neither of them said anything. After a moment of silence, Annette turned her head away from him.

“Please leave. I want to be alone."

Heiner stared at her without reply. The ticking of the clock chilled the room. Annette's fingers, laid over the sheet, shook slightly.

Eventually he quietly stood up. His footsteps became distant as he walked away. The door opened and then closed again.

Annette turned onto her side. The cold air pressed down on her whole body. Nothing seemed real, even though she opened her eyes in a sane spirit.

Perhaps, belatedly, the pregnancy was selfish greed. If she really thought about the child, she should never bring it into the world.

The world that the child would be born into would be infinitely cold and cruel. Because it was her child, because it was of the Rosenberg bloodline.

Perhaps it would hate his mother while growing up. She was used to being hated, but for the child, how would it feel?

Annette curled her body tightly. Her body began to tremble despite the thick covers. A chill that seemed to come from inside her stomach was excruciatingly painful.

“You wanted a child, didn't you?"

Did she want a child?

Yes, she wanted it.

Whether it was because of loneliness, desperation, or some other selfish reasons, she herself did not know. Whatever the reason, she wanted it.

She had lost a child she had wanted so much, but strangely enough, there were no tears. She did not feel guilty that she had failed to protect her child, nor did her heart ache so much that it broke.

She just felt very cold.

It was cold as if there was a big hole in her body.

***

While in the hospital, Annette underwent various additional tests. She also conducted psychological counseling at the semi-forced recommendation of the doctor and Heiner.

They seemed to be concerned about the impact of the miscarriage on her, but Annette thought the counseling was unnecessary.

She herself wasn't too shocked. She was just a little dazed.

“How are you feeling today?"

"Not too bad."

"Did you sleep well?"

“Yes, I slept well."

“That’s good. Who did you talk to yesterday?"

"The doctor, the nurse, and my husband............"

“May I ask what you and your husband talked about?"

"I don't remember much."

“I heard that you had a little fight the other day about the adoption issue."

"It wasn't a fight, I was just --- sensitive."

"It was just a difference of opinion. Why don’t you want to adopt?"

Annette stared at her hands resting on her thighs for a moment. Her lips slowly moved.

“I'm ......"

There were many reasons. Because she was not confident that she could love her child completely. She felt sorry for the child who would grow up in such a home.

Because it was obvious that people would whisper that she used the child to keep her husband from divorcing her. And adoption itself was pointless anyway.

“I've just had a miscarriage and ....... To think of a new child again so soon…it’s too much.”

“Ah, yes. I can fully understand how you feel."

Annette lied repeatedly in counseling. She would tell the truth, in effect, only superficially about her wellbeing, and even invented responses when deep feelings were involved.

Basically, Annette did not believe in the confidentiality of the counseling sessions. If she made even the slightest mistake in her reply, she expected to be in the gossip tomorrow morning.

And even if it wasn’t for that, the entire session would be reported to Heiner.

The counselor was satisfied with her answer and did not question her further. Annette closed her eyes, feeling tired from the light conversation alone. A familiar darkness surged over her vision.

She just wanted to be alone.

***

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[Your Excellency, the madam was shot and rushed to a city hospital. She is currently undergoing treatment.]

The papers crumpled in his hand. A moment of silence passed. Heiner put  down the papers and asked back briefly.

“What's her status…”

[She’s unconscious, but  not in serious condition. Um, and...]

“I'll be right there. I'll ask the doctor directly."

Heiner made it clear without further questioning the status of the accident. His subordinates who had been reporting to him in the office looked at him with bewilderment.

“What hospital is it?"

[Lutheran Hospital in Lancaster.]

Heiner hung up the phone and pressed his pager.

"Have a car waiting downstairs."

He stood up and put on his coat. His subordinates looked at each other as their boss's face sank completely.

"I'll listen to your report later.”

“Yes, sir!"

In response to the commander-in-chief's short salute, his men raised their hands in attention. Without looking at them, Heiner left the office in a great hurry.

With each step he took, he felt his feet were in danger. He clenched his trembling hands tightly into fists. Everything he heard felt like a terrible noise.

Heiner ran down the stairs without waiting for the elevator. As soon as he got into the parked car, he immediately ordered.

“Lutheran Hospital. As quickly as possible."

He couldn't hide his impatience all the way to the hospital. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a cigar. It wasn’t lit.

Heiner tilted his head back with the cigar in his mouth, his fingers tapping his thigh.

Not in critical condition. But unconscious.

The obvious questions of who, when, where, and why didn't occur to him at this moment.

Just…. He didn’t feel sane. Only the report he heard over the phone kept running through his head.

Heiner squeezed his tired eyes. He felt a twinge in his neck and touched it involuntarily, but there was no relief.

The car soon arrived in front of the hospital. He tossed his unlit cigar into the ashtray and got out. He quickly entered the hospital and stood at the front desk.

“Annette Valdemar. Gunshot wound patient.”

“Uh...yes! Yes, sir. Um, to the A-4---Walter! Guide this gentleman!”

A staff member hurried out from the back and led him to the hospital room. Heiner quietly followed him with a grim expression.

As soon as Heiner entered the private room, the doctor followed. The doctor's forehead was beaded with sweat, as if he had rushed to the hospital after receiving the report.

“Janice, ha, Schulze. It is an honor to meet you, Your Excellency."

Heiner did not look at the doctor, but at Annette, who lay pale. His eyes traced her body obsessively. He did not notice that his face was disturbed.

"How is she?”

"She was transported here quickly and the gunshot wound was not deep, so I got it out without complications. Her wound should heal in no time.”

The doctor hesitated, finding appropriate words. However, Heiner was giving Annette his full attention and did not notice the signs.

“However, Your Excellency, I don’t know if you knew, but the Madam…”

"..."

"...she was pregnant..."

"...."

"It was still early, but unfortunately she miscarried.............. the injury is expected to heal quickly, but there may be some aftereffects of the miscarriage ...."

“...what?"

Heiner abruptly turned his head and asked belatedly.

“What did you just say?"

"Oh, um, that madam had a miscarriage..."

"You said she was pregnant?"

"Yes, yes. It’s about 11 weeks ....... She was bleeding down there when they brought her in, and that's why she lost consciousness."

Heiner stood still and said nothing. The doctor hesitantly added.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but in my opinion...........this incident will make it difficult for madam to conceive in the future."

"...."

“Her body is weak, so even if she were to give birth, I think it would be difficult for her to have another child."

Heiner listened to the doctor without breathing properly. The words coming out of the doctor's mouth felt like a nightmare.

Pregnant...... She's pregnant?

Miscarriage?

The two words collided dizzyingly. Heiner turned his head again, stunned. His gray eyes shook as he looked down at Annette.

In the past, she had desperately wanted children. She had not given up, even when doctors had found that it was difficult for her to conceive.

During the first year of their marriage, they often spent the night together, and even after the revolution, Annette sought his company.

Perhaps she had hoped to conceive. A vain fantasy that once they had a child, things would return to the way they were before.

But despite Annette's efforts, in the past four years she had never become pregnant.

Naturally, the child-related issue no longer surfaced. Heiner had a vague idea that she was infertile.

However, she was pregnant.  Annette.

‘11 weeks ......?’

That was the last time they were intimate.

The reason was that Annette had never visited the bedroom again before or after she brought up the subject of divorce.

It was that time, of all times.

It was bad luck, as if someone had played a bad prank. Bad luck was the only explanation.

Heiner went through the chain of events of this sudden accident with a sharp mind.

Annette was pregnant, that time, this happened, she miscarried, she would never be able to get pregnant again…

His thoughts crumpled like paper. It was neither coherent nor rational. Heiner touched his mouth with a trembling hand.

"...... first, ...... I understand."

"Yes, Sir, the madam will wake up soon. The byproducts in the womb will be excreted naturally.”

"Byproducts..."

It was an extremely dry word that didn't sound one bit like life. Heiner found the word very offensive. He did not know why.

“But if the bleeding doesn’t stop or she feels pain, she may need to undergo surgery to take out the byproducts.”

Heiner tried to take in every word the doctor said, but he wasn't sure if his mind was working.

He struggled to part his lips when he heard about the possible aftereffects after a miscarriage.

“Please don’t let the miscarriage information leak out.”

“Yes, Your Excellency. Do you have any further questions or needs?"

"...... My wife usually has insomnia, but it seems to have gotten worse recently. Is this related to her pregnancy?"

"It varies from woman to woman, but there are many possible symptoms during the early stages of pregnancy. If she has insomnia, it might worsen it.”

He could not recall when exactly Annette's insomnia became worse. He had made a conscious effort not to find out.

Heiner clenched his fists, then asked in a quiet voice, “Can she continue taking her existing medications?"

“If it's the medicine she’s been taking without any problems, that would be fine."

“Can you check it out? If there is a better medicine, please prescribe it.”

“I will do so, Sir. If there is anything else you need, please let me know at any time.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Heiner's gaze was still fixed on Annette as he replied calmly.

“Yes, then......"

The doctor glanced at the Commander-in-Chief's large back and left the room. Feeling like he shouldn't make a sound for some reason, he closed the door quietly.

Tak.

“Whew.”

The doctor wiped the sweat from his forehead and adjusted his gown. The rumored young commander-in-chief was more deadly than he had expected. He was a remarkably handsome man, but with a great overpowering aura.

His wife was also one of the most beautiful women in Lancaster, but the pictures did not do her any justice.

Even though the stories about them were hideous, the couple really looked good together, minus all the newspaper stories and inside information. And the way he looked at his wife...........

Remembering the commander-in-chief's expression, the doctor tilted his head. Didn't they say the two had a bad relationship?

***

*past/ memory *

“Heiner."

Annette moved her lips, standing in front of Heiner’s bedroom and holding the lamp. The lamp's pale light illuminated Heiner's angular face.

“Are you busy today? If not….”

The end of her voice trembled slightly. Heiner knew full well what Annette wanted. She had visited him and demanded intimacy countless times over the past three years, but he was not used to this strange sense of shame.

Heiner looked at her in silence. Annette bit her lower lip. She felt suffocated on those ashen eyes.

If you don't like me, just tell me.

If you don't like it, refuse.

Don't kiss me, don't hug me, just get rid of me.

The words that had reached the end of her throat were swallowed again.

Annette lowered her head and gripped her skirt. She wanted him not to say no.

She wanted him not to refuse. She didn't want him to kick her out. She wanted to touch him. She knew in her head that their relationship was already broken, but only when he held her did she feel like everything was okay.

Despite the fact that after the relationship ended, misery remained like a leftover.

Heiner's gray eyes scanned her up and down. His gaze reached her chest that was revealed between the loose gown.

Annette's hand holding the hem of her dress trembled slightly. With one last look at her hand, Heiner quietly led her into the bedroom.

The door closed silently. Annette stepped into the room, feeling like being dragged. Her form was slowly swallowed by the darkness.

Inside, only one incandescent lamp was lit, not very bright. Heiner walked over and turned off the light. In an instant, the room darkened.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Annette approached him and removed her gown. The smooth fabric fell easily off her shoulders.

Their bodies were pressed close together. Large, hot hands wrapped around her bare waist. His body heat was vividly felt in the pitch black darkness.

Heiner picked her up lightly and laid her on the bed. There was the sound of him taking off his clothes. His clothes fell to the floor and his bare skin grazed hers.

Annette closed her eyes tightly.

There was no conversation. That was all there was.

****

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 After returning from Glenford, Annette had not seen Heiner for nearly a week.

It was no big deal. They had hardly encountered each other until she demanded a divorce.

The official residence was large and had a different radius of activity, so they each lived only their own lives unless one of them looked for the other first.

After the revolution, the role of finding a partner was mostly Annette's. Though, things had changed a bit after the mention of divorce.

As far as Annette was concerned, there was no reason to seek him first unless it was about divorce.

Birds chirped loudly outside the window.

Annette put the documents summarizing the breakdown of the donations into the file binders and opened the safe in the closet.

After placing the files in the safe, she took out a jewelry box. Placing the jewelry she had stored in the box into a paper bag, she pressed the pager. Soon a servant entered the room.

“Miss Ritzburg, I have one favor to ask of you, go to the nearest jeweler..........."

"Yes, madam."

"...."

"Tell me, madam."

When Annette did not speak, the servant looked at her with puzzlement. After thinking about something for a moment, Annette smiled faintly and shook her head.

“No, I will go there myself.”

"If you want to buy jewelry, I have a catalog........"

"I'm going to look at it in person at the store. Could you have a driver on standby?"

“All right.”

As soon as the servant left, the smile disappeared from Annette's face. She changed into her outdoor clothes and put on her veiled hat.

With her gloves donned, Annette left the building with a paper bag. Naturally, an attendant followed and opened the back seat door. After getting into the car, Annette asked the driver.

“Are there any nearby jewelry stores that are unoccupied?"

"Oh….then how about Huffine Jewelers? But the store is in a back alley, so I have to park the car on the main street, so you'll have to walk a bit."

"No problem. Please go there.”

Since the driver was a knight who accompanied noble ladies, he was knowledgeable about jewelers. The man skillfully turned the steering wheel and

turned down the street.

Before long, the car stopped on one side of the boulevard. Annette stepped into an alley lined with shops. When she arrived in front of Huffine Jewelers, the attendant said,

“I'll be waiting outside. Madam.”

It was a pleasant sound to hear. Annette nodded her head slightly and went inside the store.

"Welcome."

The jeweler greeted the customer in a somewhat insincere tone. Annette said as she placed a paper bag on the display stand.

“I want to get rid of everything."

"Perhaps you have received an appraisal from another place first?"

“No."

The jeweler glanced inside the paper bag and put on his glasses.

“Please wait a moment.”

The amount of jewelry was not much. All of the Rosenberg family's property had been seized, and Annette, who belonged to Valdemar, was forced to semi-donate most of her possessions by public opinion.

The reason she suddenly disposed of her emergency fund or jewelry was simple: to prevent a situation in which, someday after her death, the jewelry would appear in the newspapers or be auctioned off under the name ‘Jewelry owned by Dietrich's daughter.’

While the jeweler was appraising the gems, Annette looked at the jewelry on display.

She had always loved jewelry. Not because they were expensive, but simply because they sparkled.

Heiner knew Annette's taste for such things. On every past date together, he would always buy something sparkly and put it in her hand. Jewelry, beads, glass crafts---

“Do you know that everything in my room is a gift from you? I'm going to die in them.” (A)

“It’s not that much.” (H)

"Could this be ---your grand  plan to crush me to death?" (A)

"It's similar. You will live surrounded by all kinds of shiny things." (H)

"Haha, you don't mean to propose?" (A)

"Let's make the marriage proposal even cooler than this." (H)

There was a time when she felt the world a little brighter when she was with him.

Annette placed her hand lightly on the display stand and peered inside with dry eyes. The whole place was dazzling and shining, but now she felt no excitement.

“We're done, madam. Please check this ticket here.”

The jeweler who had finished the appraisal quickly presented the prices for each item.

“All in all, I can give you 2,300 pounds. Do you have any questions?”

"Please dispose of them as such."

“Ah, yes. Understood."

The jeweler's voice was somewhat reluctant. Annette withdrew her gaze from the table with a look of disinterest.

It didn't matter what the price was. In fact, the lower the price, the better.

Suddenly, the diamond ring on her ring finger caught her attention. The diamond was bigger and more beautiful than any of the gems on display. It was the wedding ring that Heiner had given her when he proposed.

Annette removed the ring and handed it to the jeweler.

“Perhaps you could tell me how much this diamond ring is worth? I'd like to get rid of it together."

“Get rid of it?”

The jeweler examined the ring and asked in surprise.

“Huh. This one alone would cost

over 7,000 pounds. I'm sorry, but we don't have the capacity to pay for this. I'm afraid you'll have to go to a larger jewelry store.”

“…I see.”

Receiving the ring, Annette put it in her bag after a few moments of thinking.

The owner counted the check and handed her an envelope containing the payment. Annette left the store without confirming the amount.

The attendant waiting at the door soon followed. Annette slowly exited the alley.

Twenty-three hundred pounds. It was not a small amount. The gems were not large, but they were all high quality so it was expected.

'But this one ring is 7,000 pounds..........?'

Even in her single days, she had never had a jewel of this magnitude. Did Heiner think he could satisfy her only by proposing with an expensive ring?

It was an effortless portrayal of what he must have thought of her.

A foolish woman, born into a powerful family, who knew nothing about the world. A vain woman who grew up without lacking anything and enjoyed everything she wanted and desired.

'That's not wrong.'

Annette thought to herself, and turned onto the main street. Looking around, she saw a car parked on the side of the road. She turned her head again at a gaze she suddenly met.

A man was standing under a street lamp. The young man, who looked to be in his early twenties at most, was staring at her. His eyes met hers, but he didn't avoid her gaze.

'Is he looking at me?'

Annette wondered if he perhaps knew who she was, and hurriedly put on her hat. But the man's eyes were still fixed on her. Something strange and intense flashed through them.

Those eyes.

It gave her chills.

Horrified, Annette involuntarily backed away. Her instincts were warning her to run. At that moment, the man pulled something from his waist.

In the sunlight, the silver color shimmered in the shape of a cross. The light was pointed at her.

The series of actions seemed very slow.

Annette instinctively turned to her attendant. Surprise spread across the attendant's face. The man then raised his hand.

Bang!

A gunshot passed by. The attendant grabbed her shoulder.

Bang!

A burning sensation was felt in her side. Annette froze for a moment, breathing roughly. The attendant hid Annette behind him and pulled out a pistol.

Bang! Bang!

Gunshots rang through the midday streets. The attendant, who had been exchanging gunfire with his opponent, pushed Annette in front of the vehicle. Her staggering gait collapsed.

“Stay hidden!”

Annette crouched in front of the car and gasped for breath. A cold chill rose from the floor. Her shoulders shook erratically.

"Madam! Are you all right?"

The driver got out of the car and hurried to check her condition. He looked down and opened his eyes wide.

“Oh my God, madam!”

Her lips quivered madly. Annette slowly lifted the hand that was holding her side. Red blood dripped from her palm.

A sharp pain surged from her lower abdomen. She felt as if she had been hit. Annette shuddered as she clutched her stomach.

"Madam…for now… to the hospital immediately..."

The driver's voice rose and fell like a malfunctioning phonograph, breaking off from time to time. Annette gasped for breath. Her head was heavy and far away, as if immersed in water.

Annette backed up against the body of the car with the support of the driver. When she finally raised her head, the deep blue sky filled her field of vision.

It was dazzling.

The driver next to her said something, but it fell on deaf ears. Annette let out a thin breath and thought idly.

‘If I’m shot in the head….’

Then she could have gone at once without pain.

Her eyes flickered. It was strange. Surely the gunshot wound was in her side, but a terrible pain covered her entire lower chest. It was as if it had been shattered into pieces.

Was this what it was like to be shot by a gun? She didn't know as she had never been injured like this in her entire life. Her fingers, hanging on the floor, twitched intermittently.

“......! Madam!"

Her eyelids felt heavy. Cold sweat ran down her temples. The sound of the gunfire was gradually fading from her ears.

Heiner said he was injured many times during the mission. Three of them were gunshot wounds. Was he in this much pain?

Had he experienced this kind of pain so many times that it made her pain seem like nothing?

Her pain was so much more than her……

The thought didn't go any further. Annette gave up on holding onto her consciousness. The flashing lights in front of her eyes eventually turned black.

A scene emerged from the edge of her consciousness as if it were being filmed. It was the face of the man who had shot her. His eyes when he was aiming the gun at her without hesitation. The emotion that shone brightly.

It was clear hatred.

***

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 After staring at the business card for a while, Heiner surprisingly had no particular reaction. He just put the business card in his pants pocket, not in Annette’s bag.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Annette, who had been fiddling with her teacup, hesitantly opened her mouth.

“It’s Ans.”

Heiner's hands stopped for a moment as he was putting the belongings back into her bag. He silently looked up, closing the bag with a natural movement.

“If I follow him…”

Closing her eyes, Annette continued to speak.

"Could that be the next best thing for me? I'm not saying I’ll follow him. I just wonder.”

“I don't know what kind of answers you want from me.”

“Is there a Restoration faction in France?”

Heiner's eyes narrowed slightly at the straightforward question.

“Heiner, you do know?”

"Did Ansgar Stetter say something like that? That there are forces for the restoration of the monarchy in France, and that you should join them?"

“No. I came up with the idea on my own. All Ansgar wanted was for me to go with him.”

"Why do you ask me if you already have that idea in mind?”

“I am informing you. That I'm not hiding anything from you, and that I'm not going to follow Ansgar secretly."

Her voice was not very desperate, though she insisted on her innocence. There was no special emotion on Heiner's face as he listened.

"...well. It could happen."

He spat out tastelessly as he was thinking about something.

“Because in the past, Ansgar Stetter liked you, and now you’re single. Also, if there is a monarchy restoration force in France as you think, they will treat you quite well. However, I cannot assure you of this. Your reputation is so bad within Padania that you may think you have no use.”

Heiner stopped speaking for a moment and smiled without warmth.

“You said there is nowhere for you to be happy, and yet you've found a place that accepts you. It's a useless assumption anyway."

“As I said, I won’t go with Ansgar. I could be wrong in my guess, just ......"

Annette continued to speak in a cautious tone.

“Just if you don't know... so I just wanted to let you know about the possible existence of retro forces within France. Of course, you might have already known….."

“You won’t gain anything by telling me that.”

The gray eyes, like those of a snitch, slid slowly down her body, then back up again. The ends of his hair, against the light, looked pale yellow.

Annette laughed bitterly.

"I thought you were trying to make the world a better place."

Was the world today a better world than it was before? Annette didn’t feel it. Because the changed world was too harsh to her.

But the people said, “The world is much better now and will be better in the future.”

Then they must be right. Because she herself was an unwise and foolish woman.

She had never made her own judgments, and even if she did now, they would be wrong.

Her words to Annelie Engels were also sincere. Annette respected the cause of people trying to change the world. Even if that cause was infinitely cruel to her.

Even if she did not relate.

Feelings like vengeance and resentment had long since disappeared. Like burnt ash, it was just an old scar.

In the quiet, she could hear Heiner’s breathing. It was a breath as strong and regular as his temper.

“… I have never asked for sympathy from you.”

Silent for a moment, Heiner put his hand on the blanket. Then he lowered his upper body close to hers. Annette's shoulders tensed as his stern face approached.

A husky voice hung in the air.

“Don't think, Annette. Just go with the flow.”

"...."

"You're good at that, aren't you?"

She was surely being ridiculed, but for some reason Heiner looked hurt. He quickly erased his expression and opened his mouth again with a cold face.

“I know better than you that Ansgar Stetter wanted you. If you had not married me, your husband would have been him. I don’t believe a word you say."

“I never loved him."

"Where did ever the marriages of nobles be done by love alone?"

Heiner's words were not wrong. They were a unique case in that they loved each other and married after dating. Actually, he lied, though.

The tea had gone cold before long. Annette murmured in a low voice.

“I mean it whether you believe me or not.”

If following Ansgar was the next best option, she already knew her best option. Two sad gazes intertwined. Annette took another sip of tea, then set her teacup on the side table.

"I'm tired. I want to go to sleep.”

Heiner stared down at her face as if trying to see if her words were true. When Annette turned her head, he raised his upper body.

When Annette turned over, Heiner turned off the gas lamp, and darkness quickly filled the room.

There was a rustling sound behind her as he got into bed. Annette closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

The two untouched bodies slowly cooled like tea water.

***

Heiner raised himself up in bed at dawn. The light filtering through the curtains that didn't close completely bathed the bed pale.

Silently, he removed the covers and looked at the woman lying away from him. Annette, who seemed to be unable to fall asleep until late, was peacefully asleep.

Her face was buried in the blanket with her body curled up. The white blanket rose and fell in small, regular motions.

Heiner unconsciously leaned close to her. Her soft cheek was exposed between her hair and the blanket.

He inadvertently tried to place his hand there and stopped. Then he rubbed his face bitterly with the hand he had taken back.

'It's inconvenient. I should have just booked a separate room...'

It had been a long time since he had shared a bed with Annette. He originally intended to get another room, but he felt strangely uneasy.

Exactly what was unsettling Heiner himself did not know. He tried to drive the image of the woman in the sea out of his mind.

Quietly, he got up from the bed and walked toward the hanger. Heiner's gaze was suddenly fixed on one spot as he pulled a cigar from his coat pocket.

Annette's cardigan pocket next to his was bulging. He took out things from the pocket and looked at them. Something glinted in the darkness.

He thought it was jewelry, but upon closer inspection, it was useless fragments.

‘What are all these pieces of trash?’

He wondered what she was so eager to pick up, but it was just this stuff. For some reason, it made him feel uncomfortable.

Heiner tossed them in the trash and went out onto the balcony. His breathing became easier in the open air.

He could not stay in the dark, enclosed space for long. His condition was better now and not completely impossible, but the feeling of being mentally put on the defensive still remained.

This was due to his memories in the torture chamber. His psychiatrist was the only one who knew of this fact. Everyone else who should have known was long dead.

His hair fluttered in the cool night breeze. Heiner stared out at the dark sea with an unlit cigar in his hand.

He could hear the waves crashing in the distance. He was not a smoker.

It had been a long time since he had quit smoking, but when his mind was in a complicated state, a cigar in his mouth felt like it could dull his thinking, if only a little. It did help even though he never lighted it.

‘I guess it's psychological.’

Heiner saw many psychological aspects of this kind: people complaining of pain in a leg that had been amputated long ago (phantom pain), or people who were tricked into taking fake medicine during a time of war when medicines were in short supply and they believed that it really worked.

He lowered his gaze and looked down at the cigar he was holding. A whitish brown stick came into view.

He had quit smoking six years ago. That was when he and Annette had started dating. She didn't seem to mind the smoke or the smell, but he voluntarily quit smoking.

He didn't need to look good anymore, so he didn't need to quit smoking. However, he still couldn’t smoke again. Because…

When his mind wandered to that point, Heiner faintly frowned. He clicked his tongue and put his arm over the railing.

“You must think I'm really, really crazy.” (A)

If that was the case, he wouldn't have felt so dirty.

Was it her problem or his that no matter how much she was dragged down and trampled on she still looked so goddamn virtuous?

Heiner smiled bitterly. He had been pondering this for a very long time, but he still hadn’t come to a conclusion.

Annette Valdemar,

You touch my lowest and weakest part.

Make me infinitely miserable.

At least this is your problem and your fault.

Heiner pulled out the cigar from his mouth and straightened his body. He turned and entered the room. Putting the cigar in his coat pocket again, he stared at the trash can for a moment.

The things Annette had picked up had lost their shine and lay abandoned in the darkness.

“My heart is not particularly useful anyway." (A)

Your heart is useless.

Heiner quietly bit his lips.

He wanted her to feel the despair of not being reciprocated. He wanted her to suffer the reality she couldn’t reach.

He hoped her heart was heartbroken and miserable.

Just as he once was.

So at least Heiner needed her heart.

He raised his head with a downcast look. After checking on Annette, who was still asleep, he quietly entered the bathroom.

He turned on the water tap and cold water flooded out. He stood still for a moment with his fingertips against the running water.

He felt the rubbish Annette had picked up on the beach rattle inside him.

***

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 Heiner looked puzzled like someone who doubted his ears. Clenching her fists in her lap, Annette spoke again.

“You must think I'm really, really crazy.” (A)

She felt strangely empty, though, in this situation she should grab him by the shoulders and string together a few words of resentment.

Annette lowered her head and then raised it again.

“It must be so. If you pretend to be in love with a woman you hate and disgust......... that woman is a fool for loving you too, so you can laugh at her for doing so.” (A)

She gave a small laugh, as if it were really funny. But the laughter soon subsided. Then she continued with a face that had lost its laughter.

“But if it was like that…I'll tell you what I told you three years ago. I will tell you when you have achieved your goal and no longer need to deceive me. I didn't even know that…” (A)

She choked on her emotions. But no tears came out. A tight voice flowed from deep within.

“For three years I have loved you more….” (A)

Heiner's eyes seemed to shake with those words. No, perhaps her vision shook. Annette quietly dropped her gaze.

For three years, her love had been broken countless times, making it hard to tell its original shape.

Frequent crumbling meant often rebuilding. For three years, Annette had often crumbled, and in turn, had often been rebuilt.

He will be back. He will smile again. He will change his mind again. He will whisper kind words again. He will love me again.

How much more must this be repeated?

"Even now."

Heiner broke the silence. He asked in a voice that sounded broken around the edges.

"Even now, do you still love me?"

Annette thought his words were sarcasm or ridicule. It wasn't that kind of tone, but it sounded that way to her anyway, at least.

Annette mumbled with a bitter smile on her face.

“If I say I do, how pathetic am I?" (A)

The stove quietly warmed up the room. Annette’s gaze turned to the sheets of the bed and spoke blankly.

"I don't quite know. I loved you the way you pretended to love me. Everything I loved about you turned out to be a lie, so isn’t my love a lie too?” (A)

Veins protruded from his hands as they rested on the floor.

Annette remembered the past when she buried her cheek in those hands.

“Now, what’s the use of all that…I also think .......... I just can't blame it on love, because the situation I'm in isn't very good." (A)

Would it really be the first time that countless times it had been rebuilt and rebuilt again? Annette wasn't sure. In fact, it didn't even seem important.

“My heart is not particularly useful anyway. Whether I love you or not, nothing will change." (A)

Annette, who had raised her head again, just had a peaceful look on her face. As if she had no past.

"It will never happen again." (A)

"...."

"Never again." (A)

****

As she had vaguely anticipated from the moment they entered the hotel, it seemed that Heiner was planning to stay here for the night.

His attendants had brought his luggage, which included a change of clothes, shoes, and toiletries. Annette took a shower with the hot water provided by the staff.

When she came out of the bathroom after changing, she stopped. Heiner, whom she thought would stay in another room, was sitting at the table flipping through a newspaper.

"...Are you staying here too?"

"Why, if I stay somewhere else, would you run off by yourself again?"

"That's not what I meant.”

“It's about not knowing."

Heiner replied curtly and stood up. As he was about to enter the bathroom with his clothes, Annette hastened to tell him.

"Wait a minute, get the staff to get some warm water.”

"It’s fine."

He turned back again as he was about to close the bathroom door. A cold voice came through the gap in the door.

“Don't even think about leaving. Unless you want to be caught and dragged away by the attendants.”

After the door closed, Annette stood there in a daze. She felt a little confused. Like his venomous tongue earlier, he seemed genuinely angry.

She listened to the sound of the water for a moment before stepping away. She sat down at the dressing table and pressed her wet hair with a towel.

On the surface of the glass was the reflection of a woman with empty eyes. There didn't seem to be a single sign of life. Annette rubbed the mirror once, leaving a handprint on her mirrored face.

By the time she had dried her hair and laid down on the bed, Heiner came out of the bathroom. Annette pulled the covers over her and curled up. Heiner turned off the lights and then turned on one of the gas lamps on the table.

The yellow light dimly illuminated one corner of the room. He took a document envelope from his suitcase and sat down in a chair.

Annette closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she did not feel sleepy, let alone sleep. Every now and then there was the sound of papers being turned over in the desolation.

‘Why did he come all this way when he’s so busy?'

Even after hearing all the messages from Heiner, she still could not understand his behavior.

Heiner acted as if he did not want to see her or as if he wished to sit by her side forever.

Either way, their relationship was as precarious as standing on a shallow, frozen lake.

Heiner worked until late at night.

Annette glanced at him. The sound of his pen writing something, his fingers tracing over the paper, his low breathing…

Only after a considerable time did Heiner turn off the gas lamp and get up. As he walked over to the bed, Annette turned and moved herself to the edge of the bed. Heiner narrowed his brows at her actions.

"You haven't slept yet?"

"...... I couldn't sleep..."

Heiner climbed into bed with a look of some discontent on his face. The mattress felt like it was sinking.

Annette sat up shakily and poured water into a glass on the side table. Then she bent over and picked up the handbag that lay under the bed. She took a medicine bag from inside and went to open it, but he grabbed her wrist.

“What is it?"

“It’s medicine."

“Sleeping pills? Why?"

“I can't sleep."

"So every time you can't sleep you take sleeping pills? Do you think that's any good?"

"It’s not like I take it because I like it.”

Heiner sighed irritably and snatched the pills from her hands. With her hands still raised, Annette helplessly watched him.

She wasn't sure what part of herself had angered him again. What did taking medicine have to do with him?

"Don't take this stuff anymore. Do you want to become addicted to it?"

“I’ll take care of myself.”

“Let you do as you please and this is how you take care of yourself?”

Annette turned her head to avoid his eyes.

It was always like this every time she talked to Heiner. He didn't like everything she did. Perhaps just her mere existence annoyed him.

‘...I wasn't like this before.'

She would often think about the past, even though she knew it was pointless ruminating.

In the past, there was always love and affection in their conversations. Sometimes they fought, but it was just a little conflict, just like normal lovers.

After a quarrel, Heiner was always willing to apologize and seek reconciliation first. After making up, he always hugged Annette and kissed her forehead and cheeks.

‘In hindsight........ I suppose it was because he, for his part, had to maintain a good relationship with me.’

Because in order to become a member of the Marquis' entourage, he would have had to be sure to marry the daughter. He must have pretended to be happy and to love her.

Her stomach churned even though she hadn't eaten anything. Annette turned to lie down, then turned her head at the sound of Heiner getting up again.

He set the teapot on the stove and selected the tea leaves the hotel provided. The sound of boiling water filled the silence. Soon the room was filled with the faint aroma of tea.

"Come on."

Heiner held out a teacup. Annette’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. He urged her on.

"Drink."

Raising her upper body, Annette inadvertently accepted the cup of hot tea. A warm feeling passed through the palm of her hands.

"It should help you sleep."

"...... what is it?"

“Chamomile."

Heiner's voice was still brusque and sounded seemingly displeased.

She didn’t know what he was thinking.

Annette sipped her tea, taking in his expression. Heiner looked at her coldly and tapped his chin.

"Give me your bag."

"My bag---why?"

"To see."

See what?

Swallowing her words, Annette hesitantly picked up her bag. Heiner snatched it from her and sat down on the bed. Then he put the belongings in the bag out on the bed one by one.

"Are these the sleeping pills?"

"No, the sleeping pills are these................"

“Then what is this?"

“Headache medicine."

“And this?”

“Digestive medicine.”

Annette, watching his hard face, added as an excuse.

"Because my stomach keeps getting upset."

“What does the doctor say?"

"Just ......"

Annette was conflicted for a moment, then answered honestly.

“...... I'm oversensitive.”

It would all have been revealed anyway if Heiner had asked Arnold. She didn't want to tell unnecessary lies for the sake of her pride.

Heiner held the medicine bag quietly for a while. Then he silently looked in the bag.

His warm face seemed to say,

"Of course.”

Annette gently tugged at her lower lip. After taking out most of the belongings, Heiner picked something up from the bottom of the bag.

It was a white piece of paper. Annette's face hardened as she realized what it was.

It was Ansgar Stetter’s business card.

****

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