Chapter 67
“I just wanted to set everything right.”
“You do realize that a confession in front of me means nothing, don’t you?”
“I’m not saying it because I expect it to mean anything.”
Leaving Louise, who was staring at him in blank confusion, Giles mechanically began cutting his food again.
“So don’t bother trying to prove what a thoroughly ruined human being I am. Whether you do or not, the fact that I’ve committed sins doesn’t change—and I have no intention of running away.”
“I can’t understand it. After years of killing the nobles you’d known, you suddenly start to acknowledge your crimes? People don’t just change like that overnight.”
“Then what did you expect me to say?”
“I don’t believe you, Giles Hessen. The idea that you came here because you truly wanted to atone makes no sense. You must be plotting something in that head of yours. Tell me—what are you thinking right now? The whole nation already knows what kind of man you really are, Giles. You don’t need to pretend to be a good person.”
“You think I’m deceiving you?”
At that, Giles faintly understood why Louise was provoking him—why she kept bringing up Anna and interrogating him. She was one of the many who had come to know him through the newspapers.
What had she expected? In short, she was unsettled. She’d managed to capture the most dangerous beast and lock it in a cage, only for it to lie down meekly like a tame house pet.
People often feel a deeper fear not when a wild beast bares its fangs, but when it simply stares back in silence.
Louise seemed to want him to do something—anything. The fact that he wasn’t reacting as she’d predicted already meant that Giles was slipping beyond her control.
“Is it unsettling because I’m not the man you remember?”
“This can’t be your true self.”
“How can you be so sure? It’s been seven years since we last met. Though I suppose that’s not true for you—you’ve kept up with me through the papers. You probably think you know me well. But you never really did. You only read about me through someone else’s words.”
“But what was written was the truth, wasn’t it?”
“Anything you haven’t seen or heard for yourself is like a sealed box. You never truly know what’s inside.”
“So you’re claiming the newspapers lied to all of Beldam?”
“I’m saying that since I’m standing here alive in front of you, there’s no reason to rely on printed words.”
Then Giles turned the question around.
“What do you actually know about me, Louise—aside from what you’ve read or heard on the radio? The man you’ve really seen and experienced—what kind of person was he?”
Louise didn’t answer right away. As both of them knew, too much time had passed. Between them yawned an enormous void—a chasm carved even deeper by the war that had swallowed everything in between.
“There’s apple jam on the table.”
“…And what about it?”
“You can’t eat apples.”
Louise’s face, which had been as expressionless as a porcelain doll’s, distorted for a brief moment.
“That was a long time ago.”
“So that means it’s different now?”
“That sort of thing doesn’t affect me anymore.”
“You used to break out in hives just from the scent of apples.”
“Stop pretending you know me. You think you really do?”
“Then do you know me?”
Louise fell silent, glaring at him for a while. But soon their battle of nerves came to an end. Her expression softened a little as she spread apple jam on a piece of toast.
“Even if you try to mess with me, nothing will change. Just keep that in mind, and things will go smoothly.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to do anything.”
“And about what I said earlier—about Anna.”
Leaning back in her chair, she shrugged lightly.
“That was a lie. I haven’t even gone to see her. All that talk about her meeting another man, sleeping with him—it was made up. I just thought you’d react.”
“I figured as much.”
“Why? Is there some reason Anna wouldn’t betray you?”
“It’s not about me. Anna isn’t the kind of person who easily trusts or accepts others. She’s cautious—too cautious for that sort of thing.”
“Is that so?”
Louise brushed off his words lightly, but then murmured to herself, almost absently,
“Then why would a woman like that ever accept you?”
There was no one who could answer that question.
When I asked for a sandwich, I really meant just that—a simple sandwich, the kind you could find at any street café.
But what appeared before me looked like a culinary performance. Every sandwich on the plate seemed to declare, You had no idea sandwiches could look like this, did you?
Adele, beaming with pride, watched me stare at them in mild disbelief.
“Well? The kitchen did its very best. It wouldn’t be proper to serve something plain to the sole heiress of House Bismar, would it?”
“I honestly just wanted a normal sandwich…”
“But that would’ve hurt our pride! Look here—this one has boiled eggs mixed with our special sauce and rolled with fresh vegetables. This one has thick slices of ham layered with cucumber and paprika for crunch. And that one’s filled with fresh, springy shrimp—”
“Thank you. Really.”
I picked one at random and took a bite. Unlike the paper-thin sandwiches I was used to, this one was thick, luxurious. The taste made it obvious why people hired chefs. Eating like this every day—it’s a wonder revolutions don’t happen more often.
“But, um, milady—no, Anna,” Adele said hesitantly. “May I ask something? Why did you refuse the veal dish and ask for sandwiches instead? Since this is your first day back at the Beldam estate, we thought you’d want the table so full we’d barely have room for the candlesticks. We were all bracing ourselves for it.”
“As if I’d do that when I’m alone.”
“Still, you’re the new head of the family now. Most heirs throw a banquet as soon as they inherit the title.”
I laughed softly at that.
“I suppose I could throw one. It’d be quite the celebration—everyone’s dead except me. That’s certainly something worth toasting, isn’t it? It would’ve been, once.”
“Um… is it true, then? That the late Count used to strike you? I always heard he wasn’t that kind of man. He adored his children—especially Lady Elisabeth. He wouldn’t even let her walk barefoot, they say.”
“That’s because he had to sell her off to Johann Meyer.”
At my unfiltered words, Adele gasped and instinctively covered her mouth, glancing around nervously—an old habit from years of serving the Beldam family.
“It’s fine. I’m the only member left now, remember?”
“Still, it startled me! I can’t get used to the idea that the Count is really gone. It feels like he’s still watching over us from behind…”
“But I only spoke the truth. To that man, a daughter was nothing more than an offering to be presented to a duke. At least, that’s what I was. Why else would Elisabeth have run off with another man?”
“I suppose that’s true…”
Though I’d barely eaten, I was already full. Still, I didn’t want to waste Adele’s effort, so I reached for another sandwich.
Sitting in the dining room brought back old memories, whether I wanted them or not. I remembered struggling not to trip over my dress hem, trying to memorize every kind of utensil and their proper order of use.
And if I ever failed to follow those rules—
“Do you know why I asked for sandwiches?”
“No, why?”
“Because you don’t need utensils for them. You can just pick them up and eat. I like that—food that doesn’t make things complicated.”
“You must have bad memories about tableware.”
“I used to get slapped for picking up the wrong fork. I don’t remember what the food tasted like back then—I was too busy worrying about which utensil to use. Every meal was eaten under tension. There was no room for enjoyment.”
“Oh my… how old were you then?”
“I was fifteen, I think. A little old to be learning table manners for the first time, honestly. But what could I do? I’d spent most of my life locked in the attic. What would I have known about forks and knives?”
Even now, just sitting in that grand dining room made my stomach twist a little. No one could hurt me anymore, of course, but the familiar walls seemed to breathe out ghosts of the past, pulling my younger self back into the seat beside me—just for a moment.
