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A bitterness flashed across Elliot's lips as he spoke. But it was so fleeting that Annette thought she'd misread him.
“You look like you’re dying of curiosity.”
Elliot said with a grin. Annette lowered her eyes to hide her expression.
Naturally, she couldn't help but be curious. It was a story about Heiner's past. Something she never properly asked about or heard about.
The moment she realized it, she knew the pain he buried and covered up would once again encroach on their lives. That's why she tried so hard to avoid it.
"Well, if you're curious, I'll tell you. If not all of it... Then most of it? It's not really a secret anymore."
“...”
“What are you curious about? Your ex-husband’s old woman?”
“...I’m not curious.”
“Haha, maybe because you grew up so well, you’re really bad at lying.”
Elliot brushed the ash from the end of his cigar and rose from his chair. He trudged toward Annette, rifle slung over his shoulder.
As the sound of military boots drew closer, Annette's shoulders stiffened. Elliot smiled, extending a hand politely, like a gentleman asking for a dance.
“Lady, would you like to take a walk?”
Annette looked up at him furtively, her face a mixture of wariness, wonder, and fear.
Elliot wiggled his eyebrows as if to ask her what she was doing without taking his hand. But Annette just sat there, frozen in place.
All eyes were fixed on this place. It was a reputation that couldn't be further undermined, but it was obvious how it would be perceived to follow this officer's hand.
Women whose livelihoods were strained by the war sometimes sold their bodies to enemy soldiers. And often, these women faced extreme ostracism from their own countrymen.
It was literally extreme ostracism. Annette had heard several stories of women being stoned to death for prostituting themselves to enemy soldiers.
Because I wanted to live, because I was forced to, because I had no choice, because I was driven to the edge of a cliff... Those words were not even an excuse.
It was a strange thing. People hated their own women who offered themselves to the enemy more than they hated political turncoats.
Annette forced her lips to move and asked.
"...Why?"
Annette's slender neck, strained with tension, stood out. She tried to hide the tension, but couldn't completely hide it.
Then Elliot leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. Annette flinched, but didn't move away. A low voice drifted into her ear.
"You won't look good if you stay here. A precious and beautiful woman like you is even more dangerous. You'd better leave when I tell you to."
“...”
“I’m giving you advice because I remember my old relationship with your ex-husband.”
Unlike before, his voice seemed devoid of any emotion. It was as if the person had changed in an instant.
The main rifle loomed over the man's lowered shoulder. Its solid, smooth iron surface gleamed coldly.
Elliot straightened his upper body again, his hand still outstretched in front of her. He playfully clenched and unclenched his fist several times.
Annette, who had been hesitating, raised her hand and placed it on top of his. Elliot chuckled, then grabbed her hand firmly and pulled it upward.
Her body was forced to rise. Annette, flustered, struggled to steady herself. Despite his thin appearance, his strength was no joke.
Elliot took Annette's hand and strode briskly forward, saying something to the Frances soldiers. The soldiers burst into laughter.
A soldier chuckled and hit Nicolo on the back. Nicolo responded with a pout, then playfully choked him on the neck and laughed.
Annette asked anxiously as she left the church entrance.
“What did you say...?”
Annette's face rapidly turned pale. Elliot, noticing her gait becoming heavier, spoke absentmindedly.
"Don't worry. I won't touch you. I may be a piece of trash, but I'm not trash enough to do that to my old friend's woman."
It wasn't exactly reassuring. She wondered if he was really Heiner's friend in the first place.
Annette slowly removed her hand from his. Elliot continued walking, seemingly unconcerned.
The occasional Frances soldiers he encountered greeted Elliot. It seemed the entire area was occupied by enemy forces.
“Where are you going?”
"I was just walking. Oh, the city is a total mess. Have you been here before?"
"...No."
"It's quite a famous tourist destination in the West. It used to be a very pretty city. If you follow this river all the way, you'll reach the sea, and the border between the river and the sea is a work of art."
Western tourist destination. Annette looked at the city scenery with renewed interest.
"Then, how about taking a vacation to Belmont County sometime soon? Then, when spring comes, maybe to Sunset Cliffs or another western area."
Yeah, that's what he said.
That proposal seemed like a distant memory. In reality, it hadn't been that long ago... Every memory she had of that person was like that.
Everything felt so distant.
In the end, the trip never happened. Not long after, she attempted suicide again, and they divorced.
In fact, Heiner made that suggestion after her first suicide attempt. Recognizing this, Annette raised an unanswerable question.
Why did he talk to me as if we had a future?
What was the feeling behind saying that?
As if saying so might bring some hope to their future...
Annette stared blankly at the burned and trampled buildings and streets of Huntingham. What a beautiful city it had once been; it was now nothing more than a ruined battlefield.
“...So why did you say we should walk?”
"I told you, I'll tell you what you want to know. Do you really have anything to ask me?"
"No."
"This is so disrespectful to your husband. That bastard Heiner must have been through quite a bit. My heart aches."
Elliot held his chest with one hand and exaggerated his performance. Annette stared at him, trembling. What kind of man is this?
"Actually, the questioning of Miss Rosenberg was just an excuse. I called you because I was curious. I wanted to know how that bastard was doing. The only news I hear is about his actions as Commander-in-Chief."
“...You were really close with that person?”
“I told you so.”
“Are you a traitor? Or a spy?”
"Oh, you're smarter than I thought. But let me correct you on one point. If you defected before the war, you can't be called a traitor. You're just an immigrant."
“So which one is it?”
“Which one do you think it is?”
"I heard that the trainees on the Southern Island enlist at a fairly young age. I guess so."
“That’s a good guess.”
Elliot added with a short laugh.
"What..."
"I've been in Padania for a very long time, Miss Rosenberg. Since I was quite young. Infiltrating the Sutherland Island training camp was my mission from my homeland."
Annette stopped walking. Elliot followed her, then pulled out a new cigar. He rummaged through his pockets, then muttered with a faint frown.
“Oh, I didn’t bring a lighter.”
“...”
“Don’t you have a lighter?”
"...No."
"Try learning a cigar. It's quite good. Oh, and is Miss Rosenberg also the classy, cigar-smoking type like Margrave Dietrich?"
“How can you say you’re friends with Heiner?”
"Hmm?"
Elliot tilted his head. Annette glared at him and spoke coldly.
“You are a spy. You are a traitor.”
“Well, that’s true... but it’s a bit strange to hear that from Miss Rosenberg. Heiner betrayed you and your family.”
“That’s a separate issue.”
"Well then, I have nothing to say. Hey, don't stare at me like that. You're so damn pretty no matter what expression you make."
Elliot chuckled. Annette looked at him, her brow narrowed in disbelief. He shrugged.
"I don't really feel anything for you. No matter how pretty you are, all women feel the same to me. Maybe it's because I'm sick of pretending to be their lover."
The moment Annette heard those words, Heiner came to mind again. He, too, had been a trainee and had likely acted as a spy countless times.
Did all women feel the same way to Heiner? Were they merely objects of purpose, nothing more, nothing less?
Even though it was something she already knew, it was unavoidable that it felt new to hear it from a man who had done the same thing.
“But, you know... back then, you were a huge presence to the trainees and soldiers who frequented the Marquis’ residence. So, it was a bit difficult for me to deal with you.”
“...A tremendous being?”
"I told you, there were more than a few soldiers who admired you. You're beautiful, elegant, of high status, the daughter of a high-ranking officer. They can only look at you, not touch you... But doesn't that make you even more special?"
Elliot, who was listing the reasons while folding his fingers, laughed out loud.
“I didn’t know that kid, who was as tough as a rock, could do that.”
“You look like you’re dying of curiosity.”
Elliot said with a grin. Annette lowered her eyes to hide her expression.
Naturally, she couldn't help but be curious. It was a story about Heiner's past. Something she never properly asked about or heard about.
The moment she realized it, she knew the pain he buried and covered up would once again encroach on their lives. That's why she tried so hard to avoid it.
"Well, if you're curious, I'll tell you. If not all of it... Then most of it? It's not really a secret anymore."
“...”
“What are you curious about? Your ex-husband’s old woman?”
“...I’m not curious.”
“Haha, maybe because you grew up so well, you’re really bad at lying.”
Elliot brushed the ash from the end of his cigar and rose from his chair. He trudged toward Annette, rifle slung over his shoulder.
As the sound of military boots drew closer, Annette's shoulders stiffened. Elliot smiled, extending a hand politely, like a gentleman asking for a dance.
“Lady, would you like to take a walk?”
Annette looked up at him furtively, her face a mixture of wariness, wonder, and fear.
Elliot wiggled his eyebrows as if to ask her what she was doing without taking his hand. But Annette just sat there, frozen in place.
All eyes were fixed on this place. It was a reputation that couldn't be further undermined, but it was obvious how it would be perceived to follow this officer's hand.
Women whose livelihoods were strained by the war sometimes sold their bodies to enemy soldiers. And often, these women faced extreme ostracism from their own countrymen.
It was literally extreme ostracism. Annette had heard several stories of women being stoned to death for prostituting themselves to enemy soldiers.
Because I wanted to live, because I was forced to, because I had no choice, because I was driven to the edge of a cliff... Those words were not even an excuse.
It was a strange thing. People hated their own women who offered themselves to the enemy more than they hated political turncoats.
Annette forced her lips to move and asked.
"...Why?"
Annette's slender neck, strained with tension, stood out. She tried to hide the tension, but couldn't completely hide it.
Then Elliot leaned down and pressed his lips to her ear. Annette flinched, but didn't move away. A low voice drifted into her ear.
"You won't look good if you stay here. A precious and beautiful woman like you is even more dangerous. You'd better leave when I tell you to."
“...”
“I’m giving you advice because I remember my old relationship with your ex-husband.”
Unlike before, his voice seemed devoid of any emotion. It was as if the person had changed in an instant.
The main rifle loomed over the man's lowered shoulder. Its solid, smooth iron surface gleamed coldly.
Elliot straightened his upper body again, his hand still outstretched in front of her. He playfully clenched and unclenched his fist several times.
Annette, who had been hesitating, raised her hand and placed it on top of his. Elliot chuckled, then grabbed her hand firmly and pulled it upward.
Her body was forced to rise. Annette, flustered, struggled to steady herself. Despite his thin appearance, his strength was no joke.
Elliot took Annette's hand and strode briskly forward, saying something to the Frances soldiers. The soldiers burst into laughter.
A soldier chuckled and hit Nicolo on the back. Nicolo responded with a pout, then playfully choked him on the neck and laughed.
Annette asked anxiously as she left the church entrance.
“What did you say...?”
“So, you're saying even eating follows a class hierarchy?”
"Don't worry. I won't touch you. I may be a piece of trash, but I'm not trash enough to do that to my old friend's woman."
It wasn't exactly reassuring. She wondered if he was really Heiner's friend in the first place.
Annette slowly removed her hand from his. Elliot continued walking, seemingly unconcerned.
The occasional Frances soldiers he encountered greeted Elliot. It seemed the entire area was occupied by enemy forces.
“Where are you going?”
"I was just walking. Oh, the city is a total mess. Have you been here before?"
"...No."
"It's quite a famous tourist destination in the West. It used to be a very pretty city. If you follow this river all the way, you'll reach the sea, and the border between the river and the sea is a work of art."
Western tourist destination. Annette looked at the city scenery with renewed interest.
"Then, how about taking a vacation to Belmont County sometime soon? Then, when spring comes, maybe to Sunset Cliffs or another western area."
Yeah, that's what he said.
That proposal seemed like a distant memory. In reality, it hadn't been that long ago... Every memory she had of that person was like that.
Everything felt so distant.
In the end, the trip never happened. Not long after, she attempted suicide again, and they divorced.
In fact, Heiner made that suggestion after her first suicide attempt. Recognizing this, Annette raised an unanswerable question.
Why did he talk to me as if we had a future?
What was the feeling behind saying that?
As if saying so might bring some hope to their future...
Annette stared blankly at the burned and trampled buildings and streets of Huntingham. What a beautiful city it had once been; it was now nothing more than a ruined battlefield.
“...So why did you say we should walk?”
"I told you, I'll tell you what you want to know. Do you really have anything to ask me?"
"No."
"This is so disrespectful to your husband. That bastard Heiner must have been through quite a bit. My heart aches."
Elliot held his chest with one hand and exaggerated his performance. Annette stared at him, trembling. What kind of man is this?
"Actually, the questioning of Miss Rosenberg was just an excuse. I called you because I was curious. I wanted to know how that bastard was doing. The only news I hear is about his actions as Commander-in-Chief."
“...You were really close with that person?”
“I told you so.”
“Are you a traitor? Or a spy?”
"Oh, you're smarter than I thought. But let me correct you on one point. If you defected before the war, you can't be called a traitor. You're just an immigrant."
“So which one is it?”
“Which one do you think it is?”
"I heard that the trainees on the Southern Island enlist at a fairly young age. I guess so."
“That’s a good guess.”
Elliot added with a short laugh.
“But that's just pure speculation. No matter how much you claim to be a nurse and have rolled around on the battlefield, you can't change what you were born as.”
"I've been in Padania for a very long time, Miss Rosenberg. Since I was quite young. Infiltrating the Sutherland Island training camp was my mission from my homeland."
Annette stopped walking. Elliot followed her, then pulled out a new cigar. He rummaged through his pockets, then muttered with a faint frown.
“Oh, I didn’t bring a lighter.”
“...”
“Don’t you have a lighter?”
"...No."
"Try learning a cigar. It's quite good. Oh, and is Miss Rosenberg also the classy, cigar-smoking type like Margrave Dietrich?"
“How can you say you’re friends with Heiner?”
"Hmm?"
Elliot tilted his head. Annette glared at him and spoke coldly.
“You are a spy. You are a traitor.”
“Well, that’s true... but it’s a bit strange to hear that from Miss Rosenberg. Heiner betrayed you and your family.”
“That’s a separate issue.”
"Well then, I have nothing to say. Hey, don't stare at me like that. You're so damn pretty no matter what expression you make."
Elliot chuckled. Annette looked at him, her brow narrowed in disbelief. He shrugged.
"I don't really feel anything for you. No matter how pretty you are, all women feel the same to me. Maybe it's because I'm sick of pretending to be their lover."
The moment Annette heard those words, Heiner came to mind again. He, too, had been a trainee and had likely acted as a spy countless times.
Did all women feel the same way to Heiner? Were they merely objects of purpose, nothing more, nothing less?
Even though it was something she already knew, it was unavoidable that it felt new to hear it from a man who had done the same thing.
“But, you know... back then, you were a huge presence to the trainees and soldiers who frequented the Marquis’ residence. So, it was a bit difficult for me to deal with you.”
“...A tremendous being?”
"I told you, there were more than a few soldiers who admired you. You're beautiful, elegant, of high status, the daughter of a high-ranking officer. They can only look at you, not touch you... But doesn't that make you even more special?"
Elliot, who was listing the reasons while folding his fingers, laughed out loud.
“I didn’t know that kid, who was as tough as a rock, could do that.”
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