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Annette nodded. As her father had said, criminals always claimed they hadn't committed a crime.
She came to a nonchalant conclusion and stood before her parents and the photographer, a happy smile plastered across her face.
“Take a picture! One, two, three─.”
Because the shutter speed was slow, Annette had to remain still for quite some time. As she focused on her beautiful smile, the commotion in front of the concert hall faded from her mind.
“Mother, I’m going to rest for a moment. The smell of the flowers gives me a headache.”
“The dean will be here soon. You should come quickly.”
As the crowd around her gradually thinned out, Annette went to the window to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding with the unabated tension and excitement of the performance.
Annette let out a long breath and leaned against the windowsill. Her gaze, cast without a second thought, caught something.
In front of the theater door, two men were struggling to drag a woman out. The brown-haired woman held on to a streetlight, barely holding on.
That must have been the commotion her father had been talking about. Annette frowned faintly as she examined the woman. From the second-floor window, she could see the scene at the entrance quite close by.
“─!”
The sound of screaming could be heard beyond the closed window. After several struggles, one of the woman's arms, holding onto the streetlight, fell off.
It wasn't difficult to drag out a woman who had lost all her strength. Then, a woman with both arms was dragged away.
The woman struggled to the very end. Her face, stricken with anger, regret, and despair, turned toward the second-floor window. Annette took a step back without realizing it.
Oh, that face.
An inexplicable chill and discomfort crept up her legs. It was as if she had seen the very bottom of humanity. Annette, feeling uneasy, tried to shake off the afterimage.
Suddenly, someone grabbed Annette's shoulders. Startled, she spun around.
“Oh!”
Ansgar, raising both hands as if surrendering, was smiling. He closed his eyes and said teasingly.
“What, why are you so surprised? What strange thoughts were you having?”
“What are you thinking...! It’s because you suddenly grabbed me.”
"Sorry, sorry. By the way, why is the protagonist here? I thought you wanted me to talk to you again."
“Oh, it seems like something is going on outside.”
“What? What’s going on? Nothing?”
“No, just someone who refused to accept the verdict...”
Annette trailed off and looked back. The woman had already been dragged out. Outside, the peace was as if nothing had happened.
Annette turned her head again and spoke monotonously.
“...They were making a fuss.”
The woman in her memory overlapped with the expressionless face in front of her.
Annette slowly lowered the hand that had covered her mouth. Her throat was parched. She reached for her teacup, but it trembled so violently that it made a loud clanking sound.
"My brother was executed the next morning. There was no appeal. It wasn't a trial to begin with."
Annette barely managed to quench her thirst, but it tasted like nothing.
"When I heard the news of the royal family's downfall, I was hopeful. I hoped that the man would apologize properly and receive a just punishment. But the next morning, the news of the Marquis's death was in the paper. He had been shot and killed instantly by the revolutionary army in his mansion... Well, that's how it ended. Without even a single apology."
As Katrine continued speaking, Annette's face grew increasingly more terrified. It was a face so fragile it seemed like it could shatter if touched.
Annette swallowed a groan with difficulty. Somewhere in her head, she heard the sound of her own tinnitus overlapping with Katrine's voice.
"I'm not asking for leniency or compromise. I believe there are situations where violence is the only option, but this wasn't one of those situations. My brother did something terrible to Madam, a vulnerable person. I have no words for that. He deserves to be punished."
“...”
“But I just... wanted to tell you, just once. I thought you might want to know how my brother died.”
Katrine looked down for a moment, then returned to Annette. Her dry voice flowed without a hint of inflection.
"Is ignorance a sin, or not? Can you really blame me for this? I still haven't figured it out. I may never find the answer. So, I'm not saying this because I think you're at fault."
“...”
"That's all I have to say. I have no more regrets. I sincerely and deeply regret this incident. I hope you recover quickly, both physically and mentally. ...Well then."
Katrine bowed briefly and then stood up. The clunky clatter of her shoes echoed across the parlor floor. Annette was still holding her breath.
“Annette!”
Why do I have to hear this story?
“We have to run away!”
Why did you want to hear it?
“Run away quickly─!”
Why are you telling this story...
Katrine reached the door and grabbed the handle. The cold metal felt against her skin. Just as she was about to turn the handle,
“I’m sorry...”
Katrine's movements suddenly stopped as the words flowed out thinly.
"Sorry..."
Her tightly clenched voice cracked. Annette paused for a moment, then lowered her head. Blue veins appeared on the back of her hand, clutching the hem of her skirt.
“I’m really sorry...”
The tears that fell suddenly left wet marks on the hem of the clothes.
"Sorry..."
Annette repeated those words, tears streaming down her face. She didn't know what else to say. Like a broken machine, she simply repeated her fleeting apologies.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry...
Katrine turned her head and looked at Annette's back. At first glance, her face seemed numb, but beneath it, a lingering sadness rippled.
"...Is it so?"
As the sobbing voice gradually subsided, Katrine muttered quietly.
“I wanted to hear that from someone.”
Annette once told Heiner:
"All the newspapers say we need to completely destroy all remnants of dictatorship. I'm not sure what part of me needs to be destroyed, but if you want, you can do it."
It was a simple statement of resignation. It wasn't said out of genuine understanding, guilt, or a desire to apologize.
Looking back, she realized she never once tried to understand them. She never even thought she needed to.
In order for people to understand each other, there must be a common point in life.
Annette felt there was no such thing between the Revolutionary Army and her own life. Although she was currently entangled with them, it wasn't something she knew about, so it wasn't something she "shared."
“You had a piano recital that day.”
But at completely opposite points, they shared a moment in their lives.
Annette still couldn't understand Katrine's life. She couldn't even dare say she understood. It was arrogance and deception.
Nobles and commoners of royal blood.
A woman who dreams of becoming a pianist while receiving higher education, and a woman who sells fruit at the market.
The family of the military leader who arrested the revolutionary army and the family of the executed members of the revolutionary army.
Even if she spent the rest of her life trying to piece together the fragments of her past, Annette would never fully understand them. That was an irrevocable fact, a sundering from the path she had already walked.
However, the reason she wanted to hear her story was to face the past.
It was to know and judge.
It was to understand them.
Even if it means hurting herself...
A cloud swept across the brightly lit reception room in the afternoon sun.
Perhaps deep down, she knew that the moment she understood them even a little, nothing would ever be able to change.
Annette cried for a long time in the empty room.
Annette sorted through her belongings and took out ledgers and documents from the safe. They were documents related to donations and sponsorships for civic groups.
After preparing the final financial statements, she organized them so her successor could easily review them. Since she had been preparing them meticulously for quite some time, the work was completed quickly.
Annette took out a piece of paper and wrote a letter of condolences to David Buckel. Then, just in time for Heiner's departure, she went to his office.
Even though it was a little past closing time, Heiner was still working. When Annette entered the office, Heiner noticed her footsteps and looked up.
"...Ma'am."
It was different from his usual way of not even taking his eyes off the documents, but Annette didn't think too deeply about it.
She approached the desk and held out a piece of paper. Heiner's brow furrowed.
“What is it?”
“It’s a leniency letter.”
“Why are you writing this?”
“Because it’s my right.”
“What I mean is, you don’t have to write. What did Katrine tell you?”
“Heiner, this is my right.”
“...”
“It’s my choice.”
She came to a nonchalant conclusion and stood before her parents and the photographer, a happy smile plastered across her face.
“Take a picture! One, two, three─.”
Because the shutter speed was slow, Annette had to remain still for quite some time. As she focused on her beautiful smile, the commotion in front of the concert hall faded from her mind.
“Mother, I’m going to rest for a moment. The smell of the flowers gives me a headache.”
“The dean will be here soon. You should come quickly.”
As the crowd around her gradually thinned out, Annette went to the window to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding with the unabated tension and excitement of the performance.
Annette let out a long breath and leaned against the windowsill. Her gaze, cast without a second thought, caught something.
In front of the theater door, two men were struggling to drag a woman out. The brown-haired woman held on to a streetlight, barely holding on.
That must have been the commotion her father had been talking about. Annette frowned faintly as she examined the woman. From the second-floor window, she could see the scene at the entrance quite close by.
“─!”
The sound of screaming could be heard beyond the closed window. After several struggles, one of the woman's arms, holding onto the streetlight, fell off.
It wasn't difficult to drag out a woman who had lost all her strength. Then, a woman with both arms was dragged away.
The woman struggled to the very end. Her face, stricken with anger, regret, and despair, turned toward the second-floor window. Annette took a step back without realizing it.
Oh, that face.
An inexplicable chill and discomfort crept up her legs. It was as if she had seen the very bottom of humanity. Annette, feeling uneasy, tried to shake off the afterimage.
Suddenly, someone grabbed Annette's shoulders. Startled, she spun around.
“Oh!”
Ansgar, raising both hands as if surrendering, was smiling. He closed his eyes and said teasingly.
“What, why are you so surprised? What strange thoughts were you having?”
“What are you thinking...! It’s because you suddenly grabbed me.”
"Sorry, sorry. By the way, why is the protagonist here? I thought you wanted me to talk to you again."
“Oh, it seems like something is going on outside.”
“What? What’s going on? Nothing?”
“No, just someone who refused to accept the verdict...”
Annette trailed off and looked back. The woman had already been dragged out. Outside, the peace was as if nothing had happened.
Annette turned her head again and spoke monotonously.
“...They were making a fuss.”
***
The woman in her memory overlapped with the expressionless face in front of her.
Annette slowly lowered the hand that had covered her mouth. Her throat was parched. She reached for her teacup, but it trembled so violently that it made a loud clanking sound.
"My brother was executed the next morning. There was no appeal. It wasn't a trial to begin with."
Annette barely managed to quench her thirst, but it tasted like nothing.
"When I heard the news of the royal family's downfall, I was hopeful. I hoped that the man would apologize properly and receive a just punishment. But the next morning, the news of the Marquis's death was in the paper. He had been shot and killed instantly by the revolutionary army in his mansion... Well, that's how it ended. Without even a single apology."
As Katrine continued speaking, Annette's face grew increasingly more terrified. It was a face so fragile it seemed like it could shatter if touched.
Annette swallowed a groan with difficulty. Somewhere in her head, she heard the sound of her own tinnitus overlapping with Katrine's voice.
"I'm not asking for leniency or compromise. I believe there are situations where violence is the only option, but this wasn't one of those situations. My brother did something terrible to Madam, a vulnerable person. I have no words for that. He deserves to be punished."
“...”
“But I just... wanted to tell you, just once. I thought you might want to know how my brother died.”
Katrine looked down for a moment, then returned to Annette. Her dry voice flowed without a hint of inflection.
"Is ignorance a sin, or not? Can you really blame me for this? I still haven't figured it out. I may never find the answer. So, I'm not saying this because I think you're at fault."
“...”
"That's all I have to say. I have no more regrets. I sincerely and deeply regret this incident. I hope you recover quickly, both physically and mentally. ...Well then."
Katrine bowed briefly and then stood up. The clunky clatter of her shoes echoed across the parlor floor. Annette was still holding her breath.
“Annette!”
Why do I have to hear this story?
“We have to run away!”
Why did you want to hear it?
“Run away quickly─!”
Why are you telling this story...
Katrine reached the door and grabbed the handle. The cold metal felt against her skin. Just as she was about to turn the handle,
“I’m sorry...”
Katrine's movements suddenly stopped as the words flowed out thinly.
"Sorry..."
Her tightly clenched voice cracked. Annette paused for a moment, then lowered her head. Blue veins appeared on the back of her hand, clutching the hem of her skirt.
“I’m really sorry...”
The tears that fell suddenly left wet marks on the hem of the clothes.
"Sorry..."
Annette repeated those words, tears streaming down her face. She didn't know what else to say. Like a broken machine, she simply repeated her fleeting apologies.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry...
Katrine turned her head and looked at Annette's back. At first glance, her face seemed numb, but beneath it, a lingering sadness rippled.
"...Is it so?"
As the sobbing voice gradually subsided, Katrine muttered quietly.
“I wanted to hear that from someone.”
***
Annette once told Heiner:
"All the newspapers say we need to completely destroy all remnants of dictatorship. I'm not sure what part of me needs to be destroyed, but if you want, you can do it."
It was a simple statement of resignation. It wasn't said out of genuine understanding, guilt, or a desire to apologize.
Looking back, she realized she never once tried to understand them. She never even thought she needed to.
In order for people to understand each other, there must be a common point in life.
Annette felt there was no such thing between the Revolutionary Army and her own life. Although she was currently entangled with them, it wasn't something she knew about, so it wasn't something she "shared."
“You had a piano recital that day.”
But at completely opposite points, they shared a moment in their lives.
Annette still couldn't understand Katrine's life. She couldn't even dare say she understood. It was arrogance and deception.
Nobles and commoners of royal blood.
A woman who dreams of becoming a pianist while receiving higher education, and a woman who sells fruit at the market.
The family of the military leader who arrested the revolutionary army and the family of the executed members of the revolutionary army.
Even if she spent the rest of her life trying to piece together the fragments of her past, Annette would never fully understand them. That was an irrevocable fact, a sundering from the path she had already walked.
However, the reason she wanted to hear her story was to face the past.
It was to know and judge.
It was to understand them.
Even if it means hurting herself...
A cloud swept across the brightly lit reception room in the afternoon sun.
Perhaps deep down, she knew that the moment she understood them even a little, nothing would ever be able to change.
Annette cried for a long time in the empty room.
***
Annette sorted through her belongings and took out ledgers and documents from the safe. They were documents related to donations and sponsorships for civic groups.
After preparing the final financial statements, she organized them so her successor could easily review them. Since she had been preparing them meticulously for quite some time, the work was completed quickly.
Annette took out a piece of paper and wrote a letter of condolences to David Buckel. Then, just in time for Heiner's departure, she went to his office.
Even though it was a little past closing time, Heiner was still working. When Annette entered the office, Heiner noticed her footsteps and looked up.
"...Ma'am."
It was different from his usual way of not even taking his eyes off the documents, but Annette didn't think too deeply about it.
She approached the desk and held out a piece of paper. Heiner's brow furrowed.
“What is it?”
“It’s a leniency letter.”
“Why are you writing this?”
“Because it’s my right.”
“What I mean is, you don’t have to write. What did Katrine tell you?”
“Heiner, this is my right.”
“...”
“It’s my choice.”
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