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Without another second's thought, Heiner took a couple of steps back and slammed his shoulder into the door. A loud bang!
He slammed the door repeatedly, as if he couldn't feel pain. Boom! Boom! A loud noise echoed through the hallway. Soon, with a creak, the door tilted back into the room.
Between the collapsing door and the doorframe, a thin silhouette was faintly visible.
For a moment, time passed very slowly.
His dilated pupils reflected the scene inside the room: a red string hanging from the ceiling, a pale, bloodless face, a body struggling in the air, two shaking feet...
A snapping sound was heard in his head. Heiner's feet struck the ground. He leaped over the collapsed door and pulled a knife from his pocket.
The knife drew a line through the air. The red string snapped, and the body floating in the air plummeted downward.
Heiner, who had caught her, rolled across the floor. The knife that had fallen with her clanked and swirled around on the floor several times.
The two bodies, tangled and rolling, stopped. The woman in his arms was as cold as a corpse. A gurgling cough echoed from below.
Heiner looked down at her with a completely bewildered expression. The hand holding her was trembling.
Annette lay silently in his arms, like a broken doll. Heiner held her close, as if he would never let her go, and spoke, breaking down.
“...Stop it now, please...”
The Rosenberg's daughter, the Marquis's blood, the daughter of a military captain, the object of long-held hatred... nothing mattered anymore.
“If you divorce me, you'll say you'll live.”
“...”
“You want to break up with me quickly, too. So hurry.”
“...”
“Please answer me, Annette...”
Heiner spoke desperately, as if he had no pride. Now, nothing really mattered.
Annette, who had been breathing quietly, slowly nodded.
After Heiner's decision, the divorce proceeded quickly. Annette received the divorce papers the next morning.
She just stayed still, and everything went smoothly.
The lawyer explained to her the reasons for the divorce and the division of property, but nothing made sense.
“...and...due to various circumstances, it is difficult to divide intangible assets such as buildings or securities...and they will be paid in cash and...”
During her meeting with her lawyer, Annette often gazed out the window. As he had said, it was the divorce she had so desperately wanted, but she felt no emotion.
Looking back, she doesn't know why she wanted a divorce so badly back then. Even if sbd divorced and moved out, it would be the same life. It would be worse than death.
"Here are the bank documents. The alimony will be paid here within a day or two. If you have any questions, please contact me.... If you sign here, the divorce proceedings will be completed."
Annette picked up the pen as the lawyer instructed. Above the spot where the lawyer had pointed, Heiner's signature was written.
She stared at it for a moment, then signed a corner of the document. She spoke as if remembering the lawyer who had received the document.
“Oh, and your ex-husband said that if you wanted to stay here longer, you could.”
“...”
“He can give you a separate building in the official residence... Would you like to stay a little longer?”
“No, it’s okay.”
"Oh, I see. So, do you need any help finding a house? I know of some good properties. I can introduce you to a real estate agent."
Annette shook her head expressionlessly, not even offering a polite smile.
“It’s okay. I’ll be right out.”
“...Ah, yes. I understand.”
Annette stood up, holding a sheet of divorce papers in front of her. When she returned to her room, several servants and a caregiver were standing there awkwardly, hesitating.
“Excuse me, ma’am, or rather, Lady Rosenberg...? Would you like to stay here a little longer?”
"No."
"Then should I pack your bags right away? Is there anything you really want to pack?"
“I’ll do it myself.”
"Oh, yes. If you need more bags, just let me know. And if you need a carriage on your way out, I'll call one for you."
Annette stared blankly at the smiling faces. Everyone was overly friendly. Perhaps they had received orders from above.
“...Yes, thank you. I’ll pack my bags, so would you please go?”
The servants looked at each other for a moment, then nodded and left the room.
Annette sat there blankly for a while before starting to pack her things. But she was only haphazardly throwing whatever she could get her hands on into her bag.
It didn't matter what she packed. In fact, it didn't matter if she packed nothing.
Annette stood up, having carelessly filled her bag. The property division and banking documents her lawyer had given her were still on the bed.
Annette left the room carrying only a single suitcase. The servants glanced at her and greeted her. She nodded and walked down the hallway.
At the first-floor entrance, Heiner stood like a shadow. Annette paused for a moment, silently watching him. He approached slowly and spoke.
“I guess you won’t be staying here any longer.”
“...”
“Do as you wish... Just keep your promise.”
Heiner, standing in front, put a glove on her hand. Annette watched him silently.
Heiner placed something on her hand and made her clench it into a fist. When she opened her hand again, she saw a purple brooch and a business card.
The business card he took was Ansgar's.
Annette raised her head again and met his gaze. Heiner took a step back.
“Warm Holidays, Annette Rosenberg.”
The low voice lingered in her ears for an oddly long time. Annette fiddled with the brooch in her hand. Then she opened her mouth slightly.
“You too.”
He slammed the door repeatedly, as if he couldn't feel pain. Boom! Boom! A loud noise echoed through the hallway. Soon, with a creak, the door tilted back into the room.
Between the collapsing door and the doorframe, a thin silhouette was faintly visible.
For a moment, time passed very slowly.
His dilated pupils reflected the scene inside the room: a red string hanging from the ceiling, a pale, bloodless face, a body struggling in the air, two shaking feet...
A snapping sound was heard in his head. Heiner's feet struck the ground. He leaped over the collapsed door and pulled a knife from his pocket.
The knife drew a line through the air. The red string snapped, and the body floating in the air plummeted downward.
Heiner, who had caught her, rolled across the floor. The knife that had fallen with her clanked and swirled around on the floor several times.
The two bodies, tangled and rolling, stopped. The woman in his arms was as cold as a corpse. A gurgling cough echoed from below.
Heiner looked down at her with a completely bewildered expression. The hand holding her was trembling.
Oh my.
Oh my.
Oh my.
His heavy breathing filled his ears. His brain hummed, as if he been hit in the head with a blunt object. Annette's coughing gradually subsided.
Heiner, rising from the floor, grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up. Annette's blue eyes were brimming with tears. His face contorted.
"This..."
His lips trembled.
“What the heck is this...”
The hand holding her shoulder tightened. Heiner shouted in a hoarse voice.
“What on earth are you doing...!”
Tears rolled down Annette's pale cheeks. Before they could flow, they fell in pitter-patter drops down her chin.
The strength left Heiner's hand. A part of his chest tightened so tightly it hurt. He gritted his teeth and spoke as if spitting out blood.
“What the heck... is this... who the heck are you...!”
Annette didn't respond, only shedding tears. She sat helplessly on the floor, looking like a lost child.
Heiner took a deep, ragged breath, then, half-conscious, groped and hugged her. Her slender body leaned against him without resistance.
He felt a faint breath on his shoulder. His reason had long since vanished. He struggled to swallow the nausea that welled up in his throat, and struggled to think.
“Annette.”
“...”
“Annette, please... how on earth can I...”
I didn't know what to do.
Heiner babbled on, not even knowing what he was saying. Stop it. What should I do? What should I do? Please, Annette. Please stop.
"I am..."
A thin voice flowed out through the muffled sobs.
“I want to stop living now...”
At the whisper, Heiner's body froze like a statue. He stared straight ahead, unable to breathe. His vision was dizzying.
Suddenly, something thin and red came into view. It was the rope Annette used to tie up files and knitting supplies.
The one she chose to strangle herself with.
Suddenly, Heiner realized.
She could decide for herself whether to live or die at any time, and she could leave him forever whenever she wanted.
Really... it was a simple story from the beginning.
It was such a simple story that he cursed himself for not realizing it before.
‘Then...what should I do...’
They were legally bound by marriage. And Heiner could use his power to confine her to the government residence or a mental institution at will.
Even if it was unethical, there were many excuses: joining the Restorationists, trying to escape to Frances with secrets, his wife being sick, or going mad.
If he said so, no one in the world would blame him. If she were kept under perfect surveillance, perhaps even death could be prevented.
She would think, think, think about death, but if only she could live like that. If only he could hold on to her body.
We can be together, broken and broken...
'You crazy bastard.'
The breath he'd been holding burst out. Heiner closed his eyes with a laugh. It was he, not she, who should be confined to a mental hospital. His excited breathing slowly subsided.
He opened his eyes again.
“Annette.”
Heiner called her name softly.
“What should I do?”
“...”
“Should we get a divorce?”
“...”
"Is that okay? That's what you wanted. You wanted so badly... to break up with me."
“...”
"If you want to go to Frances, go. If you want to follow Ansgar Stetter, then go. I'll do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want..."
Oh my.
Oh my.
His heavy breathing filled his ears. His brain hummed, as if he been hit in the head with a blunt object. Annette's coughing gradually subsided.
Heiner, rising from the floor, grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up. Annette's blue eyes were brimming with tears. His face contorted.
"This..."
His lips trembled.
“What the heck is this...”
The hand holding her shoulder tightened. Heiner shouted in a hoarse voice.
“What on earth are you doing...!”
Tears rolled down Annette's pale cheeks. Before they could flow, they fell in pitter-patter drops down her chin.
The strength left Heiner's hand. A part of his chest tightened so tightly it hurt. He gritted his teeth and spoke as if spitting out blood.
“What the heck... is this... who the heck are you...!”
Annette didn't respond, only shedding tears. She sat helplessly on the floor, looking like a lost child.
Heiner took a deep, ragged breath, then, half-conscious, groped and hugged her. Her slender body leaned against him without resistance.
He felt a faint breath on his shoulder. His reason had long since vanished. He struggled to swallow the nausea that welled up in his throat, and struggled to think.
“Annette.”
“...”
“Annette, please... how on earth can I...”
I didn't know what to do.
Heiner babbled on, not even knowing what he was saying. Stop it. What should I do? What should I do? Please, Annette. Please stop.
"I am..."
A thin voice flowed out through the muffled sobs.
“I want to stop living now...”
At the whisper, Heiner's body froze like a statue. He stared straight ahead, unable to breathe. His vision was dizzying.
Suddenly, something thin and red came into view. It was the rope Annette used to tie up files and knitting supplies.
The one she chose to strangle herself with.
Suddenly, Heiner realized.
She could decide for herself whether to live or die at any time, and she could leave him forever whenever she wanted.
Really... it was a simple story from the beginning.
It was such a simple story that he cursed himself for not realizing it before.
‘Then...what should I do...’
They were legally bound by marriage. And Heiner could use his power to confine her to the government residence or a mental institution at will.
Even if it was unethical, there were many excuses: joining the Restorationists, trying to escape to Frances with secrets, his wife being sick, or going mad.
If he said so, no one in the world would blame him. If she were kept under perfect surveillance, perhaps even death could be prevented.
She would think, think, think about death, but if only she could live like that. If only he could hold on to her body.
We can be together, broken and broken...
'You crazy bastard.'
The breath he'd been holding burst out. Heiner closed his eyes with a laugh. It was he, not she, who should be confined to a mental hospital. His excited breathing slowly subsided.
He opened his eyes again.
“Annette.”
Heiner called her name softly.
“What should I do?”
“...”
“Should we get a divorce?”
“...”
"Is that okay? That's what you wanted. You wanted so badly... to break up with me."
“...”
"If you want to go to Frances, go. If you want to follow Ansgar Stetter, then go. I'll do whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want..."
Annette lay silently in his arms, like a broken doll. Heiner held her close, as if he would never let her go, and spoke, breaking down.
“...Stop it now, please...”
The Rosenberg's daughter, the Marquis's blood, the daughter of a military captain, the object of long-held hatred... nothing mattered anymore.
“If you divorce me, you'll say you'll live.”
“...”
“You want to break up with me quickly, too. So hurry.”
“...”
“Please answer me, Annette...”
Heiner spoke desperately, as if he had no pride. Now, nothing really mattered.
Annette, who had been breathing quietly, slowly nodded.
***
After Heiner's decision, the divorce proceeded quickly. Annette received the divorce papers the next morning.
She just stayed still, and everything went smoothly.
The lawyer explained to her the reasons for the divorce and the division of property, but nothing made sense.
“...and...due to various circumstances, it is difficult to divide intangible assets such as buildings or securities...and they will be paid in cash and...”
During her meeting with her lawyer, Annette often gazed out the window. As he had said, it was the divorce she had so desperately wanted, but she felt no emotion.
Looking back, she doesn't know why she wanted a divorce so badly back then. Even if sbd divorced and moved out, it would be the same life. It would be worse than death.
"Here are the bank documents. The alimony will be paid here within a day or two. If you have any questions, please contact me.... If you sign here, the divorce proceedings will be completed."
Annette picked up the pen as the lawyer instructed. Above the spot where the lawyer had pointed, Heiner's signature was written.
She stared at it for a moment, then signed a corner of the document. She spoke as if remembering the lawyer who had received the document.
“Oh, and your ex-husband said that if you wanted to stay here longer, you could.”
“...”
“He can give you a separate building in the official residence... Would you like to stay a little longer?”
“No, it’s okay.”
"Oh, I see. So, do you need any help finding a house? I know of some good properties. I can introduce you to a real estate agent."
Annette shook her head expressionlessly, not even offering a polite smile.
“It’s okay. I’ll be right out.”
“...Ah, yes. I understand.”
Annette stood up, holding a sheet of divorce papers in front of her. When she returned to her room, several servants and a caregiver were standing there awkwardly, hesitating.
“Excuse me, ma’am, or rather, Lady Rosenberg...? Would you like to stay here a little longer?”
"No."
"Then should I pack your bags right away? Is there anything you really want to pack?"
“I’ll do it myself.”
"Oh, yes. If you need more bags, just let me know. And if you need a carriage on your way out, I'll call one for you."
Annette stared blankly at the smiling faces. Everyone was overly friendly. Perhaps they had received orders from above.
“...Yes, thank you. I’ll pack my bags, so would you please go?”
The servants looked at each other for a moment, then nodded and left the room.
Annette sat there blankly for a while before starting to pack her things. But she was only haphazardly throwing whatever she could get her hands on into her bag.
It didn't matter what she packed. In fact, it didn't matter if she packed nothing.
Annette stood up, having carelessly filled her bag. The property division and banking documents her lawyer had given her were still on the bed.
Annette left the room carrying only a single suitcase. The servants glanced at her and greeted her. She nodded and walked down the hallway.
At the first-floor entrance, Heiner stood like a shadow. Annette paused for a moment, silently watching him. He approached slowly and spoke.
“I guess you won’t be staying here any longer.”
“...”
“Do as you wish... Just keep your promise.”
Heiner, standing in front, put a glove on her hand. Annette watched him silently.
Heiner placed something on her hand and made her clench it into a fist. When she opened her hand again, she saw a purple brooch and a business card.
The business card he took was Ansgar's.
Annette raised her head again and met his gaze. Heiner took a step back.
“Warm Holidays, Annette Rosenberg.”
The low voice lingered in her ears for an oddly long time. Annette fiddled with the brooch in her hand. Then she opened her mouth slightly.
“You too.”
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