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It was four days later that Katrine Groth visited the residence.
Just after noon, the woman, her bonnet pulled down low, requested an interview. It was the lowest temperature recorded since last winter.
Annette asked Heiner to keep anyone but herself and Katrine out of the drawing room. Heiner objected, but she was more assertive than ever.
He eventually granted permission, with several conditions, including a body search of Katrina. Heiner even allowed her to carry a small knife for self-defense.
Annette entered the drawing room, fiddling with the folded knife she kept in her bosom. Katrine, who had been sitting in the chair, rose. The woman smelled of the cold, outside air.
Katrine lowered her head, taking off her hat. She was a common brunette with simple features, but the two teardrops beneath her left eye gave her a somewhat lonely look.
Annette also bowed her head slightly, then lifted it. After exchanging greetings with nods, they sat down, and silence descended.
Katrine's face was unreadable. Annette, unable to bear the discomfort, opened her mouth.
"That..."
"I."
The voices overlapped. Annette smiled awkwardly and said.
“You first─.”
“No, ma’am, you speak first.”
“It’s nothing special, just a cup of tea... What kind of tea do you like?”
“Everything is fine.”
Annette trailed off, saying, “Yes...” in response to the indifferent reply.
This place felt awkwardly uncomfortable. She couldn't meet Katrine's eyes, instead glancing aimlessly elsewhere.
Annette knew nothing about the situation. Why David had tried to harm her, what feelings Katrine had for her, and what this elusive memory of hers was...
Being left alone in this ignorant situation made her feel even more uneasy.
Annette had her servant bring out two cups of warm lemongrass tea. While she was pondering what to say while the tea was being prepared, Catherine suddenly asked a question.
“Are you feeling well?”
“It’s gotten a lot better.”
“I am so glad.”
Could she be sincere? Annette couldn't take Katrine's words at face value. Annette's eyes, averted from gaze, suddenly landed on Katrine's stomach. Katrine, noticing her gaze, placed a hand on her stomach.
“It’s been five months.”
"...Ah."
Katrine was a newlywed. It seemed only natural she might be pregnant. But why did her pregnancy feel so strange and unfamiliar?
"Congratulations."
Annette spoke with difficulty, her voice rough and raspy, as if she had chewed sand. Even to herself, it sounded like a reaction devoid of any congratulations.
"Thank you."
Katrine replied calmly. Annette clenched her hands, which were resting on her skirt, into fists. Her fingernails dug into her skin.
The truth about her miscarriage had not been revealed to the public. There was no way Katrine would have known. Annette felt the urge to tell her everything.
I had a miscarriage.
Because of your brother.
It was 11 weeks.
Will your child be born blessed?
My child was not even known to exist, let alone be blessed.
The unspoken words were swallowed down with self-deprecation. Annette's grip loosened.
If I say that, what will change? Will it just make me look pitiful? It won't change anything anyway.
Moreover, Heiner couldn't violate something he had already declared confidential. It was something that happened to her, but Annette had no authority over it. It had been that way for a long time.
The servant brought out a simple snack, but no one took a bite. Steam rose quietly into the air.
Katrine, who had been staring at the surface of the tea, suddenly opened her mouth.
“Madam, you must think I came to you hoping for some leniency, right?”
“...Isn’t that so?”
"No."
“I thought maybe that wasn’t true.”
“That’s a surprising statement. Why is that?”
“Well... I don’t know.”
She couldn't bring herself to utter a guess that Katrine was somehow familiar with, even though she wasn't sure about it herself. Fortunately, Katrine didn't press any further.
“I came to see you because I have something to tell you.”
“...”
"I wanted to see you after you'd recovered a bit. That's why I deliberately arrived a little late. Perhaps you hadn't wanted me to come."
“No, I...”
Annette suddenly denied it and hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to continue speaking.
“...Not really.”
“Is that so?”
Katrine's lips slightly lifted. It was a smile devoid of sincerity.
“Madam, you are a bit different from what I expected.”
As a question mark appeared on Annette's face, Katrine's smile grew a little deeper.
“I thought you would be a bit more arrogant and self-righteous.”
"Why..."
“You’re an only daughter.”
'Margrave Dietrich's only daughter. Annette chewed on the omitted word alone.
"Well, a lot of time has passed. A lot has happened. People change."
It was a statement with a strange connotation. Annette, unable to find an answer, simply remained silent.
In the past, she would have tried to prove herself to be someone other than that. But now, she had no such will.
"I might really be that kind of person," Annette thought to herself. She just didn't know it.
“Madam, do you have any siblings?”
“...There were a few.”
“You must have been close with them, right? Especially since you’re an only child.”
“We had a good relationship.”
Annette didn't understand why she was asking this question, but she answered as she was asked.
“I guess you weren’t very close.”
“Because my relatives lived in a different region.”
"I see. I have an older brother and a younger brother. We grew up together, like any other family."
Katrine, who had naturally brought up her personal history, continued speaking as if water was flowing.
"After graduating from the academy, my brother got a job at a trading company. He was an ambitious man. He always wanted to climb the corporate ladder."
Katrine's eyes, slowly tracing back the past, grew slightly clouded. Annette recognized those eyes.
"My brother worked hard to rise to the top. He worked hard, flattered his superiors, and did dirty things. He did everything he could in that position."
It was longing.
"But my brother failed to get promoted every time. I heard the branch manager was a nobleman, and he stole all his credit. And then he promoted his own son. James could tolerate the former, but he couldn't tolerate the latter. I'm not sure what his criteria were, but... anyway."
Katrine seemed oblivious to the fact that she had unconsciously said her brother's name. Annette silently repeated the name. James.
James... Buckel.
“My brother joined the revolutionary army right away.”
Katrine let out a sigh-like laugh.
“It’s not a big deal, is it?”
But Annette couldn't react. The moment the word "revolutionary army" was mentioned, she felt a suffocating sensation.
"The Revolutionary Army sounds like a fancy name, but in reality, most of them were people like my brother. They didn't come forward with any particularly great cause or ability, but... just ordinary, perhaps even somewhat insignificant people."
After the revolution, radio and newspapers highlighted the heroic individuality of the revolutionary army. This served as a powerful way to support the legitimacy of the revolution and shape public opinion.
"Honestly, I don't know much about the Revolutionary Army. I didn't want to get involved in it. But I'm pretty sure my brother didn't have any important work there. He was probably just a low-ranking official at best."
Annette desperately resisted the urge to storm out. She didn't want to hear it. She had to. She didn't want to hear it. But she had to. Still, still...
"Five years ago, the hunt for revolutionary militia members was in full swing. Many people were rounded up and taken away, and my brother was one of them."
Why should I listen?
"The interrogator at the time was Margrave Dietrich. The interrogation... or torture, perhaps? Anyway, it was concluded very quickly."
Why did I want to hear that?
"My brother was a spy from an enemy nation who had come to instigate civil war in Padania, and the conclusion was that he should be executed under the National Security Act. The Marquis quickly concluded the interrogation and went off somewhere, as if he had some urgent matter to attend to."
Why am I telling this story...
“You had a piano recital that day.”
At that moment, Annette remembered where she had seen the woman.
Annette's face paled rapidly. She unconsciously covered her mouth with both hands, feeling as if she might let out a strange noise if she didn't.
It happened when she was 23. After a successful recital, Annette was receiving a shower of congratulations, holding a bouquet of flowers in her arms.
She was completely distracted by the crowd of people surrounding her. The lights were dazzling, the fragrance of the large bouquet of flowers in her arms was thick, and the applause of the people echoed in her ears.
“Honey, let’s take a picture of the three of us.”
“Come this way, Father!”
“Oh, right. Of course, we have to take a picture with our daughter... Oh, wait a minute. I’ll take a picture first.”
A man approached quickly and whispered something to Marquis Dietrich. Annette tilted her head and took a picture with her other friends.
The Marquis muttered a low annoyance at the man's words. Annette, who had been laughing at her friends' jokes, turned to look at her father.
“The reporters... are...”
After a brief conversation, Margrave Dietrich dismissed the man with a wave of his hand, seemingly annoyed.
Annette, puzzled, asked her father what was going on. Margrave Dietrich tried to evade the question, but his daughter's persistent questioning forced him to give a vague answer.
“I heard someone is making a fuss in front of the concert hall.”
“What’s the fuss? Who’s making it? Why?”
"It's probably because she refused to accept the verdict. There are fools everywhere who don't understand the strictness of the law. Don't worry about it."
Just after noon, the woman, her bonnet pulled down low, requested an interview. It was the lowest temperature recorded since last winter.
Annette asked Heiner to keep anyone but herself and Katrine out of the drawing room. Heiner objected, but she was more assertive than ever.
He eventually granted permission, with several conditions, including a body search of Katrina. Heiner even allowed her to carry a small knife for self-defense.
Annette entered the drawing room, fiddling with the folded knife she kept in her bosom. Katrine, who had been sitting in the chair, rose. The woman smelled of the cold, outside air.
Katrine lowered her head, taking off her hat. She was a common brunette with simple features, but the two teardrops beneath her left eye gave her a somewhat lonely look.
Annette also bowed her head slightly, then lifted it. After exchanging greetings with nods, they sat down, and silence descended.
Katrine's face was unreadable. Annette, unable to bear the discomfort, opened her mouth.
"That..."
"I."
The voices overlapped. Annette smiled awkwardly and said.
“You first─.”
“No, ma’am, you speak first.”
“It’s nothing special, just a cup of tea... What kind of tea do you like?”
“Everything is fine.”
Annette trailed off, saying, “Yes...” in response to the indifferent reply.
This place felt awkwardly uncomfortable. She couldn't meet Katrine's eyes, instead glancing aimlessly elsewhere.
Annette knew nothing about the situation. Why David had tried to harm her, what feelings Katrine had for her, and what this elusive memory of hers was...
Being left alone in this ignorant situation made her feel even more uneasy.
Annette had her servant bring out two cups of warm lemongrass tea. While she was pondering what to say while the tea was being prepared, Catherine suddenly asked a question.
“Are you feeling well?”
“It’s gotten a lot better.”
“I am so glad.”
Could she be sincere? Annette couldn't take Katrine's words at face value. Annette's eyes, averted from gaze, suddenly landed on Katrine's stomach. Katrine, noticing her gaze, placed a hand on her stomach.
“It’s been five months.”
"...Ah."
Katrine was a newlywed. It seemed only natural she might be pregnant. But why did her pregnancy feel so strange and unfamiliar?
"Congratulations."
Annette spoke with difficulty, her voice rough and raspy, as if she had chewed sand. Even to herself, it sounded like a reaction devoid of any congratulations.
"Thank you."
Katrine replied calmly. Annette clenched her hands, which were resting on her skirt, into fists. Her fingernails dug into her skin.
The truth about her miscarriage had not been revealed to the public. There was no way Katrine would have known. Annette felt the urge to tell her everything.
I had a miscarriage.
Because of your brother.
It was 11 weeks.
Will your child be born blessed?
My child was not even known to exist, let alone be blessed.
The unspoken words were swallowed down with self-deprecation. Annette's grip loosened.
If I say that, what will change? Will it just make me look pitiful? It won't change anything anyway.
Moreover, Heiner couldn't violate something he had already declared confidential. It was something that happened to her, but Annette had no authority over it. It had been that way for a long time.
The servant brought out a simple snack, but no one took a bite. Steam rose quietly into the air.
Katrine, who had been staring at the surface of the tea, suddenly opened her mouth.
“Madam, you must think I came to you hoping for some leniency, right?”
“...Isn’t that so?”
"No."
“I thought maybe that wasn’t true.”
“That’s a surprising statement. Why is that?”
“Well... I don’t know.”
She couldn't bring herself to utter a guess that Katrine was somehow familiar with, even though she wasn't sure about it herself. Fortunately, Katrine didn't press any further.
“I came to see you because I have something to tell you.”
“...”
"I wanted to see you after you'd recovered a bit. That's why I deliberately arrived a little late. Perhaps you hadn't wanted me to come."
“No, I...”
Annette suddenly denied it and hesitated for a moment, not knowing how to continue speaking.
“...Not really.”
“Is that so?”
Katrine's lips slightly lifted. It was a smile devoid of sincerity.
“Madam, you are a bit different from what I expected.”
As a question mark appeared on Annette's face, Katrine's smile grew a little deeper.
“I thought you would be a bit more arrogant and self-righteous.”
"Why..."
“You’re an only daughter.”
'Margrave Dietrich's only daughter. Annette chewed on the omitted word alone.
"Well, a lot of time has passed. A lot has happened. People change."
It was a statement with a strange connotation. Annette, unable to find an answer, simply remained silent.
In the past, she would have tried to prove herself to be someone other than that. But now, she had no such will.
"I might really be that kind of person," Annette thought to herself. She just didn't know it.
“Madam, do you have any siblings?”
“...There were a few.”
“You must have been close with them, right? Especially since you’re an only child.”
“We had a good relationship.”
Annette didn't understand why she was asking this question, but she answered as she was asked.
“I guess you weren’t very close.”
“Because my relatives lived in a different region.”
"I see. I have an older brother and a younger brother. We grew up together, like any other family."
Katrine, who had naturally brought up her personal history, continued speaking as if water was flowing.
"After graduating from the academy, my brother got a job at a trading company. He was an ambitious man. He always wanted to climb the corporate ladder."
Katrine's eyes, slowly tracing back the past, grew slightly clouded. Annette recognized those eyes.
"My brother worked hard to rise to the top. He worked hard, flattered his superiors, and did dirty things. He did everything he could in that position."
It was longing.
"But my brother failed to get promoted every time. I heard the branch manager was a nobleman, and he stole all his credit. And then he promoted his own son. James could tolerate the former, but he couldn't tolerate the latter. I'm not sure what his criteria were, but... anyway."
Katrine seemed oblivious to the fact that she had unconsciously said her brother's name. Annette silently repeated the name. James.
James... Buckel.
“My brother joined the revolutionary army right away.”
Katrine let out a sigh-like laugh.
“It’s not a big deal, is it?”
But Annette couldn't react. The moment the word "revolutionary army" was mentioned, she felt a suffocating sensation.
"The Revolutionary Army sounds like a fancy name, but in reality, most of them were people like my brother. They didn't come forward with any particularly great cause or ability, but... just ordinary, perhaps even somewhat insignificant people."
After the revolution, radio and newspapers highlighted the heroic individuality of the revolutionary army. This served as a powerful way to support the legitimacy of the revolution and shape public opinion.
"Honestly, I don't know much about the Revolutionary Army. I didn't want to get involved in it. But I'm pretty sure my brother didn't have any important work there. He was probably just a low-ranking official at best."
Annette desperately resisted the urge to storm out. She didn't want to hear it. She had to. She didn't want to hear it. But she had to. Still, still...
"Five years ago, the hunt for revolutionary militia members was in full swing. Many people were rounded up and taken away, and my brother was one of them."
Why should I listen?
"The interrogator at the time was Margrave Dietrich. The interrogation... or torture, perhaps? Anyway, it was concluded very quickly."
Why did I want to hear that?
"My brother was a spy from an enemy nation who had come to instigate civil war in Padania, and the conclusion was that he should be executed under the National Security Act. The Marquis quickly concluded the interrogation and went off somewhere, as if he had some urgent matter to attend to."
Why am I telling this story...
“You had a piano recital that day.”
At that moment, Annette remembered where she had seen the woman.
Annette's face paled rapidly. She unconsciously covered her mouth with both hands, feeling as if she might let out a strange noise if she didn't.
***
It happened when she was 23. After a successful recital, Annette was receiving a shower of congratulations, holding a bouquet of flowers in her arms.
She was completely distracted by the crowd of people surrounding her. The lights were dazzling, the fragrance of the large bouquet of flowers in her arms was thick, and the applause of the people echoed in her ears.
“Honey, let’s take a picture of the three of us.”
“Come this way, Father!”
“Oh, right. Of course, we have to take a picture with our daughter... Oh, wait a minute. I’ll take a picture first.”
A man approached quickly and whispered something to Marquis Dietrich. Annette tilted her head and took a picture with her other friends.
The Marquis muttered a low annoyance at the man's words. Annette, who had been laughing at her friends' jokes, turned to look at her father.
“...Don't hesitate... Do it now...”
After a brief conversation, Margrave Dietrich dismissed the man with a wave of his hand, seemingly annoyed.
Annette, puzzled, asked her father what was going on. Margrave Dietrich tried to evade the question, but his daughter's persistent questioning forced him to give a vague answer.
“I heard someone is making a fuss in front of the concert hall.”
“What’s the fuss? Who’s making it? Why?”
"It's probably because she refused to accept the verdict. There are fools everywhere who don't understand the strictness of the law. Don't worry about it."
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