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It happened so quickly, she barely had time to realize it. Startled, Annette's grip loosened. The scissors fell onto the bed with a thud.
For a moment, as if time had stopped, they both stared at each other.
Annette blinked rapidly. In the stillness, Heiner's unsteady breathing could be clearly heard. His face, once like a stuffed stone statue, was now a mess.
“Heiner, what...”
Annette, embarrassed, called his name without realizing it.
The gray eyes that had been shaking madly slowly rolled downward. The black pupils were slightly constricted.
Heiner's gaze fell on the clothes lying on her lap. Suddenly, his grip on her wrists loosened.
Annette pulled her freed wrist to her chest. Heiner staggered back a step. He spoke incoherently, his face apathetic.
“I... you...”
“...”
“You again...”
The breathless voice faded away, as if consumed by flames. The air, which had been lingering for a while, gradually settled.
Heiner roughly washed his face and sighed, his voice uncertain whether in relief or annoyance. He looked again at the scissors that had fallen on the bed.
“...Where did you get the scissors?”
“I asked for it, so I got it. I just wanted to tidy up some loose threads...”
“Tell me about that.”
"It was ridiculous to ask the busy commander-in-chief to give me a pair of scissors," Annette muttered quietly.
“...I understand what you’re worried about, but I don’t plan on it anymore.”
“I don’t know.”
Heiner, responding stiffly, picked up the envelopes and books that had fallen to the floor. Annette pushed the scissors and clothes to one side of the bed.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Please accept it.”
Annette absentmindedly picked up what he handed her. Upon closer inspection, she discovered it was a few novels.
“Why is this...”
“Read it.”
“Oh, yes.”
So are you giving me a book to read or a book to eat? You could have just said, 'I brought you a book because you were bored'...
He'd always spoken like that. Annette smiled gratefully, thinking that his personality hadn't changed at all since their relationship.
“You really don’t have to worry about it.”
“And... I have something to ask you.”
“What is it?”
Heiner hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a few sheets of paper from an envelope. They were sheet music, written in pen. He handed them to Annette.
“Do you happen to know what this song is?”
“A song...?”
“Even people who are quite knowledgeable about music say they don’t know what the song is.”
It was a somewhat unexpected question, but Annette didn't ask any further questions, instead taking the score and examining it. The notes were definitely an unfamiliar combination.
She looked over the score several times and tilted her head with a puzzled expression.
“Well, I think this part is a new transcription of Vladimir’s Symphony No. 101...”
“They said they wrote a new song?”
"Yes. But I see it's taken from other pieces besides Vladimir. That's probably why they didn't know what it was. The notation is pretty good, but the combination of incongruous measures is a bit odd."
“Could you please take a closer look at what is strange?”
Heiner's face was rigid. Annette hesitated, feeling a strange tension.
“It’s been so long since I’ve looked at sheet music...”
“It’s okay to take your time, so if there’s anything that bothers you, please tell me.”
Annette frowned and tried to look at the score again, but she couldn't quite figure out what he wanted.
“Your Excellency, I understand that this may be confidential, but...”
Annette looked at him with a troubled expression.
"You need to be more specific about what you want to know. Are you looking for something technically odd, or something musically odd?"
“I want both.”
"Even if it's technically wrong, it's musically acceptable. If you're going to be that nitpicky, there's no end to it. What exactly is "strange"?"
Heiner was silent for a moment at her question. He stared intently at the score, as if assessing something, and then quietly spoke.
“...A few days ago, an Armenian liaison plane crashed nearby. This sheet music was in the pilot’s possession.”
Annette's eyes widened. Armenia was an ally of Frances. As an Axis power, it was widely expected that they would send troops alongside Frances.
“I obtained other documents separately, and since they didn’t find anything strange in this score, the staff said it looked like a normal score... but I wanted to ask you just in case before destroying it.”
Annette looked at the score again, her face tense. It was a bigger deal than she'd thought. Besides, she wondered if she could find something she hadn't discovered up there.
Although she was skeptical, it wasn't something she could just glance at. Annette carefully scanned the notes, tracing them with her finger.
“Have you tried matching the alphabet to musical notes?”
“I tried it, but it didn’t work.”
“I see. Hmm... Some notes pop out here and there. You seem to be quite familiar with notation.”
Annette tilted her head and muttered. Overall, there wasn't anything particularly suspicious, but there were some parts that made me question why it was written this way.
The repetition of the FGA motif in particular was a bit jarring. Her brow furrowed as she studied it for a while.
Annette immediately opened a drawer and took out a notebook and a pen. Fumbling occasionally, she wrote down the notes in the score, one by one.
Heiner, who had been quietly observing this, crossed his arms and said.
“I tried responding to negative sounds too.”
"Wait a minute."
Annette interrupted him, moving her pen busily. Soon, she had transcribed the entire note on a sheet of music.
Annette read it calmly from the beginning, marking a few places with a pen. Then she showed him the notebook.
“...The names of notes are pronounced differently in each country. The notation methods also differ slightly. Among them, there's something called the Norman method, which is now largely obsolete.”
“Norman? Are you referring to the people who settled in Portsmouth?”
“Yes. My piano teacher studied abroad in Portsmouth, so I learned some of the Norman style from him.”
Annette continued, pointing to the note marked 'FG A'.
"This motif appears repeatedly in the score, and if you read it according to the international notation that Padania also follows, it's correct. However, if you read it according to Norman's style..."
Their gazes met at close range. Annette's lips moved slowly.
“Pa, Sal, La.”
“...”
“...will become.”
Heiner stood frozen for a moment, then snatched up his notebook. With a hardened expression, he read the sounds on the paper.
Parsala was a coral atoll in the Black Sea. It was a strategic forward point connecting the supply lines to the southern regions, and was so important that it was often called the land-based equivalent of an Allied aircraft carrier.
“...Have you discovered anything else?”
"Not right now... but I don't know, maybe there's more hidden. By the way, Norman uses the 's' symbol for flats. A flat is As, B flat is Bs... and so on. There might be some contrasting notes related to that."
"I'll try to decipher it for reference. Is there any way to hide a numeric code here instead of letters?"
"Number...?"
Annette, who had been biting her lower lip and thinking, shook her head.
“I’m not sure about that. I’ll take some time and think about it some more.”
“Understood. I’ll send you a manuscript of the score by tomorrow, so please review it further... It was very helpful.”
“That’s good to hear.”
"I apologize again, but I will be extending the suspension period. The travel ban will also be extended for the time being."
“What...? Yes, just wait a minute.”
“Let’s eat breakfast together tomorrow morning. Then, rest.”
This order wasn't completely incomprehensible, as she'd suddenly discovered confidential information leaked from Armenia. But it was still a grievance for her.
"How long is the suspension period? When will I be transferred?"
Despite Annette's question, he didn't respond and put the sheet music in an envelope before grabbing the scissors and clothes that were on the bed.
“Why are you taking that? You can’t even finish it...”
“I will do it and return it to you tomorrow morning.”
“What nonsense are you talking about? Please give it to me!”
Heiner pretended not to hear and walked away. Stunned, she sat on the bed, dumbfounded, unable to think of anything else to say.
He opened the door. Heiner spoke softly, his head half-turned.
“...Good night, Annette.”
For a moment, as if time had stopped, they both stared at each other.
Annette blinked rapidly. In the stillness, Heiner's unsteady breathing could be clearly heard. His face, once like a stuffed stone statue, was now a mess.
“Heiner, what...”
Annette, embarrassed, called his name without realizing it.
The gray eyes that had been shaking madly slowly rolled downward. The black pupils were slightly constricted.
Heiner's gaze fell on the clothes lying on her lap. Suddenly, his grip on her wrists loosened.
Annette pulled her freed wrist to her chest. Heiner staggered back a step. He spoke incoherently, his face apathetic.
“I... you...”
“...”
“You again...”
The breathless voice faded away, as if consumed by flames. The air, which had been lingering for a while, gradually settled.
Heiner roughly washed his face and sighed, his voice uncertain whether in relief or annoyance. He looked again at the scissors that had fallen on the bed.
“...Where did you get the scissors?”
“I asked for it, so I got it. I just wanted to tidy up some loose threads...”
“Tell me about that.”
"It was ridiculous to ask the busy commander-in-chief to give me a pair of scissors," Annette muttered quietly.
“...I understand what you’re worried about, but I don’t plan on it anymore.”
“I don’t know.”
Heiner, responding stiffly, picked up the envelopes and books that had fallen to the floor. Annette pushed the scissors and clothes to one side of the bed.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Please accept it.”
Annette absentmindedly picked up what he handed her. Upon closer inspection, she discovered it was a few novels.
“Why is this...”
“Read it.”
“Oh, yes.”
So are you giving me a book to read or a book to eat? You could have just said, 'I brought you a book because you were bored'...
He'd always spoken like that. Annette smiled gratefully, thinking that his personality hadn't changed at all since their relationship.
“You really don’t have to worry about it.”
“And... I have something to ask you.”
“What is it?”
Heiner hesitated for a moment, then pulled out a few sheets of paper from an envelope. They were sheet music, written in pen. He handed them to Annette.
“Do you happen to know what this song is?”
“A song...?”
“Even people who are quite knowledgeable about music say they don’t know what the song is.”
It was a somewhat unexpected question, but Annette didn't ask any further questions, instead taking the score and examining it. The notes were definitely an unfamiliar combination.
She looked over the score several times and tilted her head with a puzzled expression.
“Well, I think this part is a new transcription of Vladimir’s Symphony No. 101...”
“They said they wrote a new song?”
"Yes. But I see it's taken from other pieces besides Vladimir. That's probably why they didn't know what it was. The notation is pretty good, but the combination of incongruous measures is a bit odd."
“Could you please take a closer look at what is strange?”
Heiner's face was rigid. Annette hesitated, feeling a strange tension.
“It’s been so long since I’ve looked at sheet music...”
“It’s okay to take your time, so if there’s anything that bothers you, please tell me.”
Annette frowned and tried to look at the score again, but she couldn't quite figure out what he wanted.
“Your Excellency, I understand that this may be confidential, but...”
Annette looked at him with a troubled expression.
"You need to be more specific about what you want to know. Are you looking for something technically odd, or something musically odd?"
“I want both.”
"Even if it's technically wrong, it's musically acceptable. If you're going to be that nitpicky, there's no end to it. What exactly is "strange"?"
Heiner was silent for a moment at her question. He stared intently at the score, as if assessing something, and then quietly spoke.
“...A few days ago, an Armenian liaison plane crashed nearby. This sheet music was in the pilot’s possession.”
Annette's eyes widened. Armenia was an ally of Frances. As an Axis power, it was widely expected that they would send troops alongside Frances.
“I obtained other documents separately, and since they didn’t find anything strange in this score, the staff said it looked like a normal score... but I wanted to ask you just in case before destroying it.”
Annette looked at the score again, her face tense. It was a bigger deal than she'd thought. Besides, she wondered if she could find something she hadn't discovered up there.
Although she was skeptical, it wasn't something she could just glance at. Annette carefully scanned the notes, tracing them with her finger.
“Have you tried matching the alphabet to musical notes?”
“I tried it, but it didn’t work.”
“I see. Hmm... Some notes pop out here and there. You seem to be quite familiar with notation.”
Annette tilted her head and muttered. Overall, there wasn't anything particularly suspicious, but there were some parts that made me question why it was written this way.
The repetition of the FGA motif in particular was a bit jarring. Her brow furrowed as she studied it for a while.
Annette immediately opened a drawer and took out a notebook and a pen. Fumbling occasionally, she wrote down the notes in the score, one by one.
Heiner, who had been quietly observing this, crossed his arms and said.
“I tried responding to negative sounds too.”
"Wait a minute."
Annette interrupted him, moving her pen busily. Soon, she had transcribed the entire note on a sheet of music.
Annette read it calmly from the beginning, marking a few places with a pen. Then she showed him the notebook.
“...The names of notes are pronounced differently in each country. The notation methods also differ slightly. Among them, there's something called the Norman method, which is now largely obsolete.”
“Norman? Are you referring to the people who settled in Portsmouth?”
“Yes. My piano teacher studied abroad in Portsmouth, so I learned some of the Norman style from him.”
Annette continued, pointing to the note marked 'FG A'.
"This motif appears repeatedly in the score, and if you read it according to the international notation that Padania also follows, it's correct. However, if you read it according to Norman's style..."
Their gazes met at close range. Annette's lips moved slowly.
“Pa, Sal, La.”
“...”
“...will become.”
Heiner stood frozen for a moment, then snatched up his notebook. With a hardened expression, he read the sounds on the paper.
Parsala was a coral atoll in the Black Sea. It was a strategic forward point connecting the supply lines to the southern regions, and was so important that it was often called the land-based equivalent of an Allied aircraft carrier.
“...Have you discovered anything else?”
"Not right now... but I don't know, maybe there's more hidden. By the way, Norman uses the 's' symbol for flats. A flat is As, B flat is Bs... and so on. There might be some contrasting notes related to that."
"I'll try to decipher it for reference. Is there any way to hide a numeric code here instead of letters?"
"Number...?"
Annette, who had been biting her lower lip and thinking, shook her head.
“I’m not sure about that. I’ll take some time and think about it some more.”
“Understood. I’ll send you a manuscript of the score by tomorrow, so please review it further... It was very helpful.”
“That’s good to hear.”
"I apologize again, but I will be extending the suspension period. The travel ban will also be extended for the time being."
“What...? Yes, just wait a minute.”
“Let’s eat breakfast together tomorrow morning. Then, rest.”
This order wasn't completely incomprehensible, as she'd suddenly discovered confidential information leaked from Armenia. But it was still a grievance for her.
"How long is the suspension period? When will I be transferred?"
Despite Annette's question, he didn't respond and put the sheet music in an envelope before grabbing the scissors and clothes that were on the bed.
“Why are you taking that? You can’t even finish it...”
“I will do it and return it to you tomorrow morning.”
“What nonsense are you talking about? Please give it to me!”
Heiner pretended not to hear and walked away. Stunned, she sat on the bed, dumbfounded, unable to think of anything else to say.
He opened the door. Heiner spoke softly, his head half-turned.
“...Good night, Annette.”
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