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After the operation in Bunchen, which was thought to have failed, Heiner miraculously returned with Frances's secrets and was warmly welcomed by the Margrave.
Frances was a member of the opposing coalition, to which Padania now belonged. Furthermore, it was also a leading figure among them.
Therefore, this operation was as important to Padania as it was difficult. What Heiner brought not only solidified the Marquis's position but also greatly boosted his advancement.
However, Heiner did not convey to the Marquis that the traitor had been executed. Anne and her companions were declared dead during the operation.
Thanks to Heiner's achievements, Margrave Dietrich became the most prominent of the five military commanders. The Margrave, deeply pleased, approved Heiner's enlistment in the regular army.
It wasn't even a simple enlistment approval. The Marquis, in recognition of his career, commissioned him as a second lieutenant, in addition to the starting rank of second lieutenant, a rank given to military academy graduates. It was a truly groundbreaking appointment.
Heiner was invited to the Rosenberg mansion for the first time in a long time. It was his first visit as a prospective officer, not as a spy trainee whose identity could not be revealed.
The dinner was held in the Rosenberg Mansion's signature banquet hall, a place Heiner had also been to many times.
Heiner gazed at the mural on the ceiling again. It was still magnificent and sacred, but he felt no emotion.
His gaze lingered on Saint Marianne. Heiner had always seen her in the midday sunlight filtering through the tinted glass.
But in the middle of the night, Marianne looked not like a saint, but like just an ordinary girl. As if she had emerged from a mirage...
“Congratulations on your promotion, Valdemar!”
“Not yet, man.”
"That's it, that's it! Now, would you like a drink? It's a precious wine from Enburg."
"Thank you, Lieutenant General. However, I'm currently recovering from an injury... so I can't drink alcohol. Please understand."
“Hey, can you have just one drink?”
“The doctor said that since I didn’t receive any treatment there, my condition is not good, and if I don’t get proper treatment now, it could get worse.”
"Well... then there's nothing I can do. Let's do it together next time. In the past, I would have fed you no matter what, even if you were injured. The world has really become a better place, hasn't it?"
The lieutenant general chuckled and shook the bottle of wine at his attendant. The attendant immediately came and uncorked the wine. Then the meal was served, one course at a time.
Dinners with high-ranking officers were incomparable to those he had as a trainee. The food and drinks were both top-notch.
But Heiner felt like he was chewing sand the whole time. He answered questions politely and poured drinks.
As the night grew late, everyone except Heiner became slightly tipsy. The Marquis, in a good mood, laughed heartily and patted Heiner on the shoulder.
"I've known you since you were a trainee! I knew you'd do great things someday!"
“It is a great honor to have caught your eye, Your Grace.”
"Yeah, the first time I saw you was... when you killed four seniors, right? You're only a third-year student! I heard you weren't on good terms."
“There was no supervisor. It was just that they tried to attack me...”
"That's why you're not on good terms! Now that I think about it, you seem unsociable. Were things okay with your colleagues during the operation?"
He shouldn't have answered that it was okay. Excessive communication during operations was prohibited.
“We weren’t close personally.”
"That's fortunate. Doing this kind of work often means experiencing the deaths of those close to you, so you shouldn't be too attached. I'm really weak to affection, and it's a problem."
“I will listen carefully.”
The drunken Marquis continued to talk to himself, regardless of what Heiner said.
“Everyone died in this operation except you, right? What a pitiful death. How pitiful... Two died in a carriage accident... The rest died from torture... Those vicious French bastards...!”
Heiner's hand, holding the fork, suddenly stopped. He raised his head without changing his expression. He then stared blankly at Prince Dietrich.
"Still, how honorable it is to die serving your country! How...! If it were up to me, I would have died on the street without ever having accomplished anything...!"
The Marquis, speaking in an exaggerated, theatrical tone, roughly set down his glass. He was still grinning, his face still heavy with alcohol.
Heiner answered that it would have been a great honor for them and filled the Marquis's goblet. The blood-red wine filled the goblet to the brim.
The Marquis babbled on, but his words were completely meaningless. Soon, the drunken Marquis left, claiming he was tired.
The maid led Heiner to his bedroom. It was late, so she was considerate enough to ask him to stay overnight.
“If you need anything, please pull this rope. Have a peaceful night.”
"Thank you."
As soon as the door closed, Heiner opened the window and lit an oil lamp. Only then did he feel a little better. He pulled a chair closer to the window and sat down.
Since escaping from the interrogation center, Heiner has been unable to remain in confined, dark spaces. Just being there seemed to trigger recurring nightmares.
It was a major flaw for an active-duty soldier. He intended to overcome it alone, without telling anyone, but he had no idea how to do so.
Heiner stared at the lamp, lost in thought. His fingers slowly tapped the windowsill. Many things passed by. Among them was the Marquis's words.
“What a pitiful death. It’s so sad...Two died in a carriage accident... The rest died from torture...”
His fingers, which had been tapping rhythmically on the window frame, stopped. Heiner's gray eyes darkened.
Aiden and Michelle didn't die in the carriage accident. To be precise, it wasn't reported that way.
It was a multi-vehicle pileup. While it was true that the car was hit by a carriage, the exact cause wasn't known, so it was simply reported as a roadside collision.
But the Marquis referred to it precisely as a carriage accident.
Memories went back to the past.
It was a time when the domestic situation in Padania was taking a turn for the Marquis. Before his death, Aiden had made a meaningful comment about this.
"The Marquis often makes mistakes with his words. That will come back to haunt him someday."
“Oh, really? But there hasn’t been any noise in that direction so far, right?”
To Anne's question, Aiden answered with a bitter smile on his face.
“Of course. He's eliminating those who could hold him back.”
Aiden and Michelle, Dietrich's close associates, knew some of the Marquis's secrets—perhaps even "troubling."
Heiner let out a silent, hollow laugh. It was so utterly vain.
Being overseas and engaged in a secret operation, they would have been perfect targets for killing. They had been loyal to the Marquis, risking their lives, but he abandoned them like scraps of paper.
In any case, it was all over. The operation had been a success, and the Marquis, as the foremost military commander, had gained absolute power.
To the Marquis, dead chess pieces were worth less than trash. They didn't even have graves or small tombstones.
Heiner clenched his fists, then relaxed them as if he had lost all will. The night breeze flowing into the room was cold.
The next morning, the Marquis and the other officers still could not get out of bed.
It was an unusually sunny day. After washing up and having a quick breakfast, Heiner, out of habit, went out to the rose garden.
Sunlight streamed down into the deserted garden. He walked wherever his feet took him. The warm light made his mind feel hazy.
Heiner, who had been walking aimlessly, suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. He realized belatedly that he was heading towards the practice room.
Heiner lowered his head and stared at the ground. His eyes met with his own shadow, facing away from the light. The shadow was unusually dark.
The practice room had long since been moved deep within the mansion. The woman wouldn't be there either. So where on earth was he going? Heiner asked himself.
Why did you come back here?
'To meet her.'
What did you plan to do when you met her?
'I tried to talk to her.'
What words?
'What are you saying...?'
Everything felt so vague. He was living for that one woman, yet the place he returned to felt so bright and unfamiliar.
A painful heat crawled along the words etched into his chest. Heiner gritted his teeth. What on earth could he possibly do, meeting her in such a state of bruises?
'Let's go back.'
Even as he thought that, for some reason, his steps wouldn't move. He desperately tried to turn around. At that moment, he suddenly heard a rustling sound nearby.
With his characteristic alertness, Heiner sensed that it was a human presence.
Heiner, who had taken a step back, raised his head. About ten paces away, the shape of a white umbrella loomed.
The surface of the umbrella shone dazzlingly in the sunlight. It took him a moment to realize it was a parasol, not an umbrella.
A woman in a light blue dress was walking toward him, her long blonde hair swaying gently with her every step.
Heiner lowered his eyes as if he was running away without realizing it, then slowly raised them.
Her ankles were visible beneath her short dress. She was wearing white socks and low-heeled shoes.
The plain, plain dress, though unadorned, was elegant and refined. Heiner didn't know much about dresses, but he felt it suited the woman perfectly.
Her thin arms were visible beneath the slightly long sleeves. The hand holding the parasol was clad in translucent lace gloves.
A blue emerald necklace hung from her straight, white neck. It was the same color as her eyes. Her eyes and...
For a moment, time seemed to stop. His mind, which had been straddling the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, gradually became clearer.
Heiner, who had been standing there as if nailed to the ground, only then realized who his opponent was.
It was her.
Frances was a member of the opposing coalition, to which Padania now belonged. Furthermore, it was also a leading figure among them.
Therefore, this operation was as important to Padania as it was difficult. What Heiner brought not only solidified the Marquis's position but also greatly boosted his advancement.
However, Heiner did not convey to the Marquis that the traitor had been executed. Anne and her companions were declared dead during the operation.
Thanks to Heiner's achievements, Margrave Dietrich became the most prominent of the five military commanders. The Margrave, deeply pleased, approved Heiner's enlistment in the regular army.
It wasn't even a simple enlistment approval. The Marquis, in recognition of his career, commissioned him as a second lieutenant, in addition to the starting rank of second lieutenant, a rank given to military academy graduates. It was a truly groundbreaking appointment.
Heiner was invited to the Rosenberg mansion for the first time in a long time. It was his first visit as a prospective officer, not as a spy trainee whose identity could not be revealed.
The dinner was held in the Rosenberg Mansion's signature banquet hall, a place Heiner had also been to many times.
Heiner gazed at the mural on the ceiling again. It was still magnificent and sacred, but he felt no emotion.
His gaze lingered on Saint Marianne. Heiner had always seen her in the midday sunlight filtering through the tinted glass.
But in the middle of the night, Marianne looked not like a saint, but like just an ordinary girl. As if she had emerged from a mirage...
“Congratulations on your promotion, Valdemar!”
“Not yet, man.”
"That's it, that's it! Now, would you like a drink? It's a precious wine from Enburg."
"Thank you, Lieutenant General. However, I'm currently recovering from an injury... so I can't drink alcohol. Please understand."
“Hey, can you have just one drink?”
“The doctor said that since I didn’t receive any treatment there, my condition is not good, and if I don’t get proper treatment now, it could get worse.”
"Well... then there's nothing I can do. Let's do it together next time. In the past, I would have fed you no matter what, even if you were injured. The world has really become a better place, hasn't it?"
The lieutenant general chuckled and shook the bottle of wine at his attendant. The attendant immediately came and uncorked the wine. Then the meal was served, one course at a time.
Dinners with high-ranking officers were incomparable to those he had as a trainee. The food and drinks were both top-notch.
But Heiner felt like he was chewing sand the whole time. He answered questions politely and poured drinks.
As the night grew late, everyone except Heiner became slightly tipsy. The Marquis, in a good mood, laughed heartily and patted Heiner on the shoulder.
"I've known you since you were a trainee! I knew you'd do great things someday!"
“It is a great honor to have caught your eye, Your Grace.”
"Yeah, the first time I saw you was... when you killed four seniors, right? You're only a third-year student! I heard you weren't on good terms."
“There was no supervisor. It was just that they tried to attack me...”
"That's why you're not on good terms! Now that I think about it, you seem unsociable. Were things okay with your colleagues during the operation?"
He shouldn't have answered that it was okay. Excessive communication during operations was prohibited.
“We weren’t close personally.”
"That's fortunate. Doing this kind of work often means experiencing the deaths of those close to you, so you shouldn't be too attached. I'm really weak to affection, and it's a problem."
“I will listen carefully.”
The drunken Marquis continued to talk to himself, regardless of what Heiner said.
“Everyone died in this operation except you, right? What a pitiful death. How pitiful... Two died in a carriage accident... The rest died from torture... Those vicious French bastards...!”
Heiner's hand, holding the fork, suddenly stopped. He raised his head without changing his expression. He then stared blankly at Prince Dietrich.
"Still, how honorable it is to die serving your country! How...! If it were up to me, I would have died on the street without ever having accomplished anything...!"
The Marquis, speaking in an exaggerated, theatrical tone, roughly set down his glass. He was still grinning, his face still heavy with alcohol.
Heiner answered that it would have been a great honor for them and filled the Marquis's goblet. The blood-red wine filled the goblet to the brim.
The Marquis babbled on, but his words were completely meaningless. Soon, the drunken Marquis left, claiming he was tired.
The maid led Heiner to his bedroom. It was late, so she was considerate enough to ask him to stay overnight.
“If you need anything, please pull this rope. Have a peaceful night.”
"Thank you."
As soon as the door closed, Heiner opened the window and lit an oil lamp. Only then did he feel a little better. He pulled a chair closer to the window and sat down.
Since escaping from the interrogation center, Heiner has been unable to remain in confined, dark spaces. Just being there seemed to trigger recurring nightmares.
It was a major flaw for an active-duty soldier. He intended to overcome it alone, without telling anyone, but he had no idea how to do so.
Heiner stared at the lamp, lost in thought. His fingers slowly tapped the windowsill. Many things passed by. Among them was the Marquis's words.
“What a pitiful death. It’s so sad...Two died in a carriage accident... The rest died from torture...”
His fingers, which had been tapping rhythmically on the window frame, stopped. Heiner's gray eyes darkened.
Aiden and Michelle didn't die in the carriage accident. To be precise, it wasn't reported that way.
It was a multi-vehicle pileup. While it was true that the car was hit by a carriage, the exact cause wasn't known, so it was simply reported as a roadside collision.
But the Marquis referred to it precisely as a carriage accident.
Memories went back to the past.
It was a time when the domestic situation in Padania was taking a turn for the Marquis. Before his death, Aiden had made a meaningful comment about this.
"The Marquis often makes mistakes with his words. That will come back to haunt him someday."
“Oh, really? But there hasn’t been any noise in that direction so far, right?”
To Anne's question, Aiden answered with a bitter smile on his face.
“Of course. He's eliminating those who could hold him back.”
Aiden and Michelle, Dietrich's close associates, knew some of the Marquis's secrets—perhaps even "troubling."
Heiner let out a silent, hollow laugh. It was so utterly vain.
Being overseas and engaged in a secret operation, they would have been perfect targets for killing. They had been loyal to the Marquis, risking their lives, but he abandoned them like scraps of paper.
In any case, it was all over. The operation had been a success, and the Marquis, as the foremost military commander, had gained absolute power.
To the Marquis, dead chess pieces were worth less than trash. They didn't even have graves or small tombstones.
Heiner clenched his fists, then relaxed them as if he had lost all will. The night breeze flowing into the room was cold.
***
The next morning, the Marquis and the other officers still could not get out of bed.
It was an unusually sunny day. After washing up and having a quick breakfast, Heiner, out of habit, went out to the rose garden.
Sunlight streamed down into the deserted garden. He walked wherever his feet took him. The warm light made his mind feel hazy.
Heiner, who had been walking aimlessly, suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. He realized belatedly that he was heading towards the practice room.
Heiner lowered his head and stared at the ground. His eyes met with his own shadow, facing away from the light. The shadow was unusually dark.
The practice room had long since been moved deep within the mansion. The woman wouldn't be there either. So where on earth was he going? Heiner asked himself.
Why did you come back here?
'To meet her.'
What did you plan to do when you met her?
'I tried to talk to her.'
What words?
'What are you saying...?'
Everything felt so vague. He was living for that one woman, yet the place he returned to felt so bright and unfamiliar.
A painful heat crawled along the words etched into his chest. Heiner gritted his teeth. What on earth could he possibly do, meeting her in such a state of bruises?
'Let's go back.'
Even as he thought that, for some reason, his steps wouldn't move. He desperately tried to turn around. At that moment, he suddenly heard a rustling sound nearby.
With his characteristic alertness, Heiner sensed that it was a human presence.
Heiner, who had taken a step back, raised his head. About ten paces away, the shape of a white umbrella loomed.
The surface of the umbrella shone dazzlingly in the sunlight. It took him a moment to realize it was a parasol, not an umbrella.
A woman in a light blue dress was walking toward him, her long blonde hair swaying gently with her every step.
Heiner lowered his eyes as if he was running away without realizing it, then slowly raised them.
Her ankles were visible beneath her short dress. She was wearing white socks and low-heeled shoes.
The plain, plain dress, though unadorned, was elegant and refined. Heiner didn't know much about dresses, but he felt it suited the woman perfectly.
Her thin arms were visible beneath the slightly long sleeves. The hand holding the parasol was clad in translucent lace gloves.
A blue emerald necklace hung from her straight, white neck. It was the same color as her eyes. Her eyes and...
For a moment, time seemed to stop. His mind, which had been straddling the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, gradually became clearer.
Heiner, who had been standing there as if nailed to the ground, only then realized who his opponent was.
It was her.
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