"Will you just leave Princess Erita alone? Judging by her actions back then, it's clear she was a Princess of the Allied Nations, but she cooperated with Belford. And even though the Princess was involved in the incident, the Medea royal family remained silent. It seems they're acting on their own."
Vincent, who had arrived at regimental headquarters, mentioned the Christmas Day incident and asked about Princess Medea. His anxious eyes glanced at Noah, who was leaning against a chair in the regimental commander's office, his legs propped up on the desk.
His tie, always perfectly tied, was crooked, and a couple of collar buttons were undone. The regimental commander, who should be a role model, was now unkempt, like a bunch of untidy belongings.
It doesn't look okay at all.
Vincent, the loyal secretary, took a cigar from his bosom and carefully offered it to his worn-out superior.
“I don’t smoke.”
“I thought it might be necessary. Everyone starts like this.”
“Leave it alone for now.”
Noah loosened his tie and replied, his expressionless face once again the same as before. His monotonous tone suggested he was being told to leave him alone, but it also implied that he was asking to leave the Princess alone.
He was looking at the ceiling with a thoughtful face, his sleek black combat boots clicking.
You have to be quite perceptive to work under that guy. He's the type of person who blurts out things without thinking, assuming everyone else will understand.
"Yes..."
Vincent, who was quick-witted, quietly left the room and closed the door.
Left alone, Noah still sat listlessly, staring into space. Even as the sun set and the sunset deepened, he felt no emotion. He couldn't understand why he found beauty in the predictable cycle of rising and setting.
The neatly organized papers on the desk gradually turned a crimson hue. The steady tick of the clock added to the silence.
Until then, it had been the time he had most anticipated. To him, the glow of the sunset was a kind of signal, and that was the only thing he had attached significance to.
Now, time has no meaning to him.
He recalled the image he believed was unique: her expressionless face, pale and flushed with the slightest touch.
It was fascinating how her normally calm and soulless voice would raise slightly when she was flustered, and how her facial expressions would change slightly only when he looked closely.
So, it was fun just sitting there and looking at it. At first, it seemed alive yet not, but as time went on, it became more and more vibrant.
He wanted to know what that faint light, sometimes flickering in her eyes and then vanishing for a fleeting moment, was. She was a strange person, always with a consistent expression, yet wearing countless masks of life.
She tried to act like a woman her age, but she also displayed a detached demeanor, like someone who had come against the trajectory of the world's cycle. He wanted to know the truth hidden beneath the ever-changing mask.
When you look at me, do you cry or laugh?
So, why did you leave me? Wasn't it necessary?
Noah's lips, which had been expressionless and lost in thought throughout his shift, parted slightly as if in a sigh. He slowly tilted his head back and closed his eyes tightly.
Her calm voice faintly came to mind as he thought he had to bring her back.
“This won’t change anything.”
Noah frowned and rubbed his face with one hand as if washing his face dry.
“Diana. What should I do?”
The vain question dissipated into the void without a target and died down.
The sunset was setting outside the window. Time had passed, and my health had improved. I was reading a book when a knock on the door brought me up.
I leaned back on the sofa, reading a book, and saw Celine and the maid with a desperate look on their faces enter, side by side. It seemed Celine had gone to find the maid who had given me the spoiled soup and told me she was going to kick her out.
"Young lady, I was wrong. I have three younger siblings to support. If I get fired from here without a letter of recommendation, I'll have nowhere to work."
The red-haired maid, her eyes swollen and puffy, began to beg. I put down my book and stared at the maid and Celine with emotionless eyes. Celine stood with her arms crossed, her gaze dropping to her toes, and sighed.
“Sister, take care of it. You’re so kind.”
I turned my gaze to the book and muttered a dry, indifferent word. The maid's longing eyes, which had been lingering on me, turned to Celine.
A look of relief spread across the maid's face, knowing Celine had a kind heart. I offered a calm smile, a silent pressure directed at Celine.
Celine's green eyes, glaring at me, seemed to be seething with humiliation.
“...I don’t think I can forgive you for playing such a dangerous prank on my little sister. Let’s leave tomorrow morning.”
Celine pressed her fingers to her eyelids and muttered with a sigh. The red-haired maid, incredulous at the unexpected announcement, then glared at Celine with furious eyes. Her face was startlingly pale.
The final destination of anger is the one who makes the final decision.
“You didn’t even bother looking at it before, did you?”
The maid threw off her apron, scowled, and confronted Celine. In the feudal past, she would have been severely beaten or even beheaded. But times have changed. It's simply a matter of employer and employee, privileged and unprivileged.
“You’re doing things you normally wouldn’t do to look good to the Colonel, Miss.”
At the maid's sarcastic words, Celine's expression fell even colder, and the corners of her mouth twisted fiercely.
"You'll find a job quickly if you go to another country or a remote rural area. What are you doing? Why don't you hurry and get out?"
However, it was possible to exercise capitalist power and seek economic retribution. The maid, disheartened by Celine's stern command, left in tears.
Celine, who had been silent for a moment, looked at the door the maid had left, and then asked in a calm voice.
“What on earth do you want?”
"What are you talking about? I just want you to be there for me. If someone starts bullying me, you'll step in and protect me."
I put the book down and smiled with my eyes wide open.
“Because you’re my sister. Isn’t that obvious?”
At my comment, Celine's face twisted into a grimace, and she bit her lip. She asked intuitively, as if spitting out a thorn that had been stuck in her throat.
“You. Are you interested in the lieutenant colonel?”
I relaxed my posture and chuckled, not responding. I allowed myself to sink into a morass of anxious imagination. I just conveyed the message to her, barely holding back a sneer.
“The lieutenant colonel said he’d meet me outside tomorrow?”
Celine, who had been biting her lips fiercely, left the room, blowing a cold wind as if she didn't want to hear any more.
They say the weakest evil is stronger because they have nothing to lose. Those who are desperate are the first to hit the brakes. I sprawled out on the bed, lifting and lowering my legs, giggling.
“Oh my, this is fun.”
Actually, it's not fun at all.
I had no intention of seducing the lieutenant colonel. I tried, and it felt impossible, and I didn't feel like it. So, I have absolutely no desire to try anything like that.
The next day, Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal visited the mansion.
I was in a restaurant with a lieutenant colonel, staring blankly at the table. After bringing me here, he showed the menu to the waiter and made a very impressive order: "Everything from here to here."
Looking at the table full of exquisite food, I tried to understand the situation, and eventually, I looked into his eyes and longed for an answer.
“Eat everything.”
The lieutenant colonel's once upturned eyes now gently lowered. Perhaps it wasn't deliberate food torture or scorn, but rather the compassion of grandmothers eager to feed their grandchildren.
“If I eat it all, won’t I die?”
“You were sick recently, weren’t you? You were a little thin.”
The lieutenant colonel pulled the plate of steak in front of me, cut it into precise pieces, and handed it to me. Was he really feeling sorry for me? Was this a relief organization? Seeing the sincerity, I eagerly stuffed it into my mouth.
The lieutenant colonel, resting his chin on his hand and holding a glass of wine, looked at me with satisfaction, mumbling absentmindedly.
“Is it delicious?”
"Yes..."
But my stomach is small, a living witness to the unfortunate history of chewing only hard black bread without water. Combined with my inherently small appetite, I can't eat much. How can I be so healthy when I grew up starving?
“You don’t have to force yourself. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just ordered everything.”
The man who had been poised to feed me until I vomited softened his expression. I put down my fork, leaned back in my chair, and gasped for breath.
A musician sitting at a piano on a stage inside the restaurant was playing "Song of Farewell," a song I'd heard that day. It must be a famous song here, too.
I looked at him quietly and asked the lieutenant colonel.
“They wrote that song for the operation, right?”
At my question, he narrowed his blue eyes and tilted his head.
“What are you talking about?”
"That song is called 'Song of Farewell'. There's no way he'd use that kind of song for an engagement ceremony."
“No. I understand that the song selection was performed exactly as requested by the Duke.”
The breath I had been holding in stopped with a gasp. I turned my head slowly, my face hard, to look at him.
"Yes...?"
“And the title of that song is not a song about a breakup.”
The lieutenant colonel leaned forward, placed his hands on the table, and turned his face toward the musician.
"That's a foreign song with a title that means 'No More Love.' It's a melancholic tune, so it's definitely not a song to be used at engagement ceremonies."
I couldn't just arbitrarily choose what it meant, because it gave rise to two starkly different meanings.
Did that mean there was no love anymore, or that there was no love beyond him? I lowered my eyes and anxiously clenched and unclenched my hand.
It was Noah who sent the signal. It must have been the climax. They deployed soldiers under the guise of guests at the engagement ceremony, and had them send the operation signal directly to the enemy soldiers who were hiding under the guise of a band. It's astonishing.
It's possible they changed their plans to use me for negotiations. They may have obtained information about the rescue in advance and planned to summon this man, Prime Minister Belford's son, to Frogen and kill him. He's a lunatic beyond common sense.
So, were the words “getting married,” the engagement ceremony, and the coming-of-age ceremony all part of a plan?
My easy way of saying "I love you" and Noah's affectionate demeanor overlapped, blurring my mind. Perhaps he had sensed my lies from the beginning and was displaying a false pretense.
If the original goal was to become a lieutenant colonel, there would have been many other ways.
“Miss Diana.”
The lieutenant colonel woke me from my agony with a quiet voice.
“Did you really want to marry him?”
What was my state of mind back then? Something buried deep within the abyss had surfaced. I pretended it wasn't there, but the excruciating loneliness and solitude that washed over me like waves after leaving him was unbearable.
“Maybe so.”
I answered honestly.
Even if it wasn't love, I felt drawn to him and felt a desire to continue the relationship. Despite never having been properly loved, I carelessly blurted out the words "I love you," trying to use him as a means and method.
Yes, it seemed easy because I didn't even know what it was, even though I didn't know its true nature. It started as a lie and was dismissed as such from the beginning. That's why I regret that day.
My vision blurred and rippled like waves. As I answered, something fell to my knees as I sat quietly on the chair.
The water flowing down my cheek felt rather cold.
I liked this strange yet beautiful person who treated me with inexplicable affection, even though I had been abandoned by my family and had nothing, and who rushed towards me with all his heart, almost blindly.
So I couldn't believe it, and I was even more afraid to say anything.
Everything I said was a lie.
Are you like that, too?
Vincent, who had arrived at regimental headquarters, mentioned the Christmas Day incident and asked about Princess Medea. His anxious eyes glanced at Noah, who was leaning against a chair in the regimental commander's office, his legs propped up on the desk.
His tie, always perfectly tied, was crooked, and a couple of collar buttons were undone. The regimental commander, who should be a role model, was now unkempt, like a bunch of untidy belongings.
It doesn't look okay at all.
Vincent, the loyal secretary, took a cigar from his bosom and carefully offered it to his worn-out superior.
“I don’t smoke.”
“I thought it might be necessary. Everyone starts like this.”
“Leave it alone for now.”
Noah loosened his tie and replied, his expressionless face once again the same as before. His monotonous tone suggested he was being told to leave him alone, but it also implied that he was asking to leave the Princess alone.
He was looking at the ceiling with a thoughtful face, his sleek black combat boots clicking.
You have to be quite perceptive to work under that guy. He's the type of person who blurts out things without thinking, assuming everyone else will understand.
"Yes..."
Vincent, who was quick-witted, quietly left the room and closed the door.
Left alone, Noah still sat listlessly, staring into space. Even as the sun set and the sunset deepened, he felt no emotion. He couldn't understand why he found beauty in the predictable cycle of rising and setting.
The neatly organized papers on the desk gradually turned a crimson hue. The steady tick of the clock added to the silence.
Until then, it had been the time he had most anticipated. To him, the glow of the sunset was a kind of signal, and that was the only thing he had attached significance to.
Now, time has no meaning to him.
He recalled the image he believed was unique: her expressionless face, pale and flushed with the slightest touch.
It was fascinating how her normally calm and soulless voice would raise slightly when she was flustered, and how her facial expressions would change slightly only when he looked closely.
So, it was fun just sitting there and looking at it. At first, it seemed alive yet not, but as time went on, it became more and more vibrant.
He wanted to know what that faint light, sometimes flickering in her eyes and then vanishing for a fleeting moment, was. She was a strange person, always with a consistent expression, yet wearing countless masks of life.
She tried to act like a woman her age, but she also displayed a detached demeanor, like someone who had come against the trajectory of the world's cycle. He wanted to know the truth hidden beneath the ever-changing mask.
When you look at me, do you cry or laugh?
So, why did you leave me? Wasn't it necessary?
Noah's lips, which had been expressionless and lost in thought throughout his shift, parted slightly as if in a sigh. He slowly tilted his head back and closed his eyes tightly.
Her calm voice faintly came to mind as he thought he had to bring her back.
“This won’t change anything.”
Noah frowned and rubbed his face with one hand as if washing his face dry.
“Diana. What should I do?”
The vain question dissipated into the void without a target and died down.
***
The sunset was setting outside the window. Time had passed, and my health had improved. I was reading a book when a knock on the door brought me up.
I leaned back on the sofa, reading a book, and saw Celine and the maid with a desperate look on their faces enter, side by side. It seemed Celine had gone to find the maid who had given me the spoiled soup and told me she was going to kick her out.
"Young lady, I was wrong. I have three younger siblings to support. If I get fired from here without a letter of recommendation, I'll have nowhere to work."
The red-haired maid, her eyes swollen and puffy, began to beg. I put down my book and stared at the maid and Celine with emotionless eyes. Celine stood with her arms crossed, her gaze dropping to her toes, and sighed.
“Sister, take care of it. You’re so kind.”
I turned my gaze to the book and muttered a dry, indifferent word. The maid's longing eyes, which had been lingering on me, turned to Celine.
A look of relief spread across the maid's face, knowing Celine had a kind heart. I offered a calm smile, a silent pressure directed at Celine.
Celine's green eyes, glaring at me, seemed to be seething with humiliation.
“...I don’t think I can forgive you for playing such a dangerous prank on my little sister. Let’s leave tomorrow morning.”
Celine pressed her fingers to her eyelids and muttered with a sigh. The red-haired maid, incredulous at the unexpected announcement, then glared at Celine with furious eyes. Her face was startlingly pale.
The final destination of anger is the one who makes the final decision.
“You didn’t even bother looking at it before, did you?”
The maid threw off her apron, scowled, and confronted Celine. In the feudal past, she would have been severely beaten or even beheaded. But times have changed. It's simply a matter of employer and employee, privileged and unprivileged.
“You’re doing things you normally wouldn’t do to look good to the Colonel, Miss.”
At the maid's sarcastic words, Celine's expression fell even colder, and the corners of her mouth twisted fiercely.
"You'll find a job quickly if you go to another country or a remote rural area. What are you doing? Why don't you hurry and get out?"
However, it was possible to exercise capitalist power and seek economic retribution. The maid, disheartened by Celine's stern command, left in tears.
Celine, who had been silent for a moment, looked at the door the maid had left, and then asked in a calm voice.
“What on earth do you want?”
"What are you talking about? I just want you to be there for me. If someone starts bullying me, you'll step in and protect me."
I put the book down and smiled with my eyes wide open.
“Because you’re my sister. Isn’t that obvious?”
At my comment, Celine's face twisted into a grimace, and she bit her lip. She asked intuitively, as if spitting out a thorn that had been stuck in her throat.
“You. Are you interested in the lieutenant colonel?”
I relaxed my posture and chuckled, not responding. I allowed myself to sink into a morass of anxious imagination. I just conveyed the message to her, barely holding back a sneer.
“The lieutenant colonel said he’d meet me outside tomorrow?”
Celine, who had been biting her lips fiercely, left the room, blowing a cold wind as if she didn't want to hear any more.
They say the weakest evil is stronger because they have nothing to lose. Those who are desperate are the first to hit the brakes. I sprawled out on the bed, lifting and lowering my legs, giggling.
“Oh my, this is fun.”
Actually, it's not fun at all.
I had no intention of seducing the lieutenant colonel. I tried, and it felt impossible, and I didn't feel like it. So, I have absolutely no desire to try anything like that.
***
The next day, Lieutenant Colonel Groenendaal visited the mansion.
I was in a restaurant with a lieutenant colonel, staring blankly at the table. After bringing me here, he showed the menu to the waiter and made a very impressive order: "Everything from here to here."
Looking at the table full of exquisite food, I tried to understand the situation, and eventually, I looked into his eyes and longed for an answer.
“Eat everything.”
The lieutenant colonel's once upturned eyes now gently lowered. Perhaps it wasn't deliberate food torture or scorn, but rather the compassion of grandmothers eager to feed their grandchildren.
“If I eat it all, won’t I die?”
“You were sick recently, weren’t you? You were a little thin.”
The lieutenant colonel pulled the plate of steak in front of me, cut it into precise pieces, and handed it to me. Was he really feeling sorry for me? Was this a relief organization? Seeing the sincerity, I eagerly stuffed it into my mouth.
The lieutenant colonel, resting his chin on his hand and holding a glass of wine, looked at me with satisfaction, mumbling absentmindedly.
“Is it delicious?”
"Yes..."
But my stomach is small, a living witness to the unfortunate history of chewing only hard black bread without water. Combined with my inherently small appetite, I can't eat much. How can I be so healthy when I grew up starving?
“You don’t have to force yourself. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just ordered everything.”
The man who had been poised to feed me until I vomited softened his expression. I put down my fork, leaned back in my chair, and gasped for breath.
A musician sitting at a piano on a stage inside the restaurant was playing "Song of Farewell," a song I'd heard that day. It must be a famous song here, too.
I looked at him quietly and asked the lieutenant colonel.
“They wrote that song for the operation, right?”
At my question, he narrowed his blue eyes and tilted his head.
“What are you talking about?”
"That song is called 'Song of Farewell'. There's no way he'd use that kind of song for an engagement ceremony."
“No. I understand that the song selection was performed exactly as requested by the Duke.”
The breath I had been holding in stopped with a gasp. I turned my head slowly, my face hard, to look at him.
"Yes...?"
“And the title of that song is not a song about a breakup.”
The lieutenant colonel leaned forward, placed his hands on the table, and turned his face toward the musician.
"That's a foreign song with a title that means 'No More Love.' It's a melancholic tune, so it's definitely not a song to be used at engagement ceremonies."
I couldn't just arbitrarily choose what it meant, because it gave rise to two starkly different meanings.
Did that mean there was no love anymore, or that there was no love beyond him? I lowered my eyes and anxiously clenched and unclenched my hand.
It was Noah who sent the signal. It must have been the climax. They deployed soldiers under the guise of guests at the engagement ceremony, and had them send the operation signal directly to the enemy soldiers who were hiding under the guise of a band. It's astonishing.
It's possible they changed their plans to use me for negotiations. They may have obtained information about the rescue in advance and planned to summon this man, Prime Minister Belford's son, to Frogen and kill him. He's a lunatic beyond common sense.
So, were the words “getting married,” the engagement ceremony, and the coming-of-age ceremony all part of a plan?
My easy way of saying "I love you" and Noah's affectionate demeanor overlapped, blurring my mind. Perhaps he had sensed my lies from the beginning and was displaying a false pretense.
If the original goal was to become a lieutenant colonel, there would have been many other ways.
“Miss Diana.”
The lieutenant colonel woke me from my agony with a quiet voice.
“Did you really want to marry him?”
What was my state of mind back then? Something buried deep within the abyss had surfaced. I pretended it wasn't there, but the excruciating loneliness and solitude that washed over me like waves after leaving him was unbearable.
“Maybe so.”
I answered honestly.
Even if it wasn't love, I felt drawn to him and felt a desire to continue the relationship. Despite never having been properly loved, I carelessly blurted out the words "I love you," trying to use him as a means and method.
Yes, it seemed easy because I didn't even know what it was, even though I didn't know its true nature. It started as a lie and was dismissed as such from the beginning. That's why I regret that day.
My vision blurred and rippled like waves. As I answered, something fell to my knees as I sat quietly on the chair.
The water flowing down my cheek felt rather cold.
I liked this strange yet beautiful person who treated me with inexplicable affection, even though I had been abandoned by my family and had nothing, and who rushed towards me with all his heart, almost blindly.
So I couldn't believe it, and I was even more afraid to say anything.
Everything I said was a lie.
Are you like that, too?
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