Chapter 15
It was around late autumn—just when the cold had begun to settle in—or perhaps early winter, much like now. After maintaining a relationship with him for over a year, Edith asked him for the first time to come to Berg. She worried he might refuse, but thankfully, not long after, he came to see her.
“Shall we take a walk?”
Edith suggested they walk through the streets still dark with dawn, a thin, chilling frost clinging to the ground. In response, Maximilian said nothing—he simply removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She did her best to appear calm, but he surely noticed that something about her was different from usual.
“How have you been?”
At the polite greeting, Edith smiled a little awkwardly—then fell silent. She had made up her mind, but when it came time to speak, fear crept in. This hesitation was nothing like her boldness at the beginning. Perhaps back then, she hadn’t been brave at all—perhaps it was the opposite. Maybe she had been terrified of how things would end with him. That fear had allowed her to stubbornly refuse his letters, yet made her unable to easily voice a proposal that might lead to separation.
In the stubborn silence between them, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath their steps brushed against her ears. Surprisingly, it was Maximilian who broke the long quiet.
“My assignment ends this year.”
It was an unexpected remark—one she hadn’t asked for, which made her even more unsure how to respond. When she remained silent, Maximilian, unusually, continued.
“I’ll likely return to Berg next year. No—actually, I will return.”
“……”
“I’ve already secured a residence nearby. If that happens, we’ll be able to see each other more often than we do now.”
Their gradually slowing steps came to a complete halt. Standing face to face in the cold dawn street, Maximilian looked faintly anxious.
“Edith.”
“Yes?”
His deeply settled gaze slid over her face. For some reason, she found it hard to meet his eyes and lowered her head. Then a large hand reached out, lifting her chin. Their eyes locked again—too intensely for her to escape. Her heart tightened, unsure of the reason for this. That was when he spoke again.
“If the words you’re hesitating to say are about parting ways—and if the reason is the distance between us—then there’s no need to worry about that anymore.”
It took Edith a moment to understand what he meant.
“Did you think I was going to ask to break up?”
“Wasn’t that the case?”
Instead of answering, Edith laughed—loudly. The pale breath escaping her vivid red lips clouded the air between them. Maximilian frowned, but her laughter didn’t stop. She was happy—happy that this usually taciturn man had been so desperate as to hastily explain his plans, and even more so that she was the reason behind them.
“After you return to Berg, what are your plans?”
Before he could answer, Edith spoke again.
“If you don’t have any particular plans, then maybe we…”
“……”
“Shall we get married?”
Edith never forgot the distorted expression on Maximilian’s face at that moment. The sharp sigh of “Ha!” that followed, the ring he immediately pulled from his pocket, and the quiet reproach he delivered as he handed it to her—
“If you’d waited just a little longer, I would have been the one to say it first.”
“…Riche?”
Gisela’s slightly flustered voice snapped Edith out of her long reverie. Only then did Edith realize her vision had blurred—because tears had filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Thick drops fell from beneath her hastily lowered head, soaking her knees. Memories of Maximilian always broke her down like this. Perhaps because they were so happy, the pain cut deeper. He had left behind memories she could never forget—and then disappeared forever.
What hurt the most was that she didn’t even have a photograph of him. When she returned home after fleeing during the war, the house—destroyed by shelling—had vanished without a trace. Along with it, every photograph and possession of his.
So Maximilian existed only in her memories.
He had no family to begin with. The sole heir of the Lindel family, his parents had died long ago in an accident. The entire secret unit he had served with went missing, and the only people who knew him—Brother Ernil and Elise—had passed into eternal rest. With all records of him now falsified, Edith alone was the only person in the world who knew his true face.
The thought brought another wave of crushing sorrow. A wet breath slowly escaped her lips. Gisela waited patiently as Edith silently gathered herself. Thanks to that, when Edith finally lifted her head, she was smiling again as if nothing had happened. The pity clouding Gisela’s eyes soon faded as well. In the slightly awkward atmosphere, Edith brought the conversation to a close.
“So, Gisela—why don’t you try bringing it up first?”
“Me? First?”
“Yes.”
“……”
“The other person might feel the same way.”
Just like she and Maximilian once had.
* * *
Edith parted ways with Gisela fairly late in the evening. Lights spilling from shops that hadn’t yet closed dotted the streets unevenly.
Despite her late return, Edith avoided the shortcut through the alley and instead walked along the busy commercial street—at Gisela’s insistence. Just before they separated, Gisela had said something oddly ominous.
“Stick to the main road, Riche. And if a stranger talks to you, never follow them.”
It was such an out-of-the-blue remark that Edith looked at her in confusion. Gisela hurriedly added,
“The world’s dangerous these days. Security in Bellen has been a mess lately. You understand, right? Say yes!”
Was Bellen’s security really that bad? It didn’t quite match what she’d heard from Karon and Sasha, but Gisela’s expression was so serious—almost resolute—that Edith nodded anyway.
“Well… it is late. She must just be worried.”
She tried not to dwell on it, but she couldn’t entirely shake the unease creeping up inside her.
That unease took physical form the moment Edith arrived at Sasha’s estate.
“What… what is this…?”
She stopped dead in her tracks, unable to believe what she was seeing. Black smoke was seeping from the window of the ground-floor room at the edge of the mansion—the very room Edith was using. The faint flames she could see, combined with the light still on in Sasha and Karon’s nearby bedroom, sent shock through her body.
“Sasha! Karon!”
Her voice came out strangled as she shouted the names she was most worried about and ran straight into the mansion.
* * *
“It’s a relief it was discovered so quickly.”
Perel, who had arrived later, tried to comfort Edith, whose face was stiff with guilt. She didn’t respond—she seemed to be blaming herself.
A small fire had broken out at Sasha’s estate, originating from Edith’s room. Judging by the remains, the oil lamp she’d left on her desk appeared to be the cause. Fortunately, it was found early enough to prevent the flames from spreading.
“Is Lady Sasha all right?”
Sasha nodded, but her face was pale. She clearly hadn’t recovered from the shock. Edith, who had been biting her lip, finally spoke in a hoarse voice.
“…I’m really sorry.”
Sasha waved her hands in exaggerated denial.
“No, no. Like Perel said, if it weren’t for you, Edith, it could’ve been much worse.”
“I checked everything before I left…”
Edith trailed off and pressed her lips together. Anything she said would sound like an excuse. Saying she hadn’t left the lamp on, or that she’d thoroughly checked the house before leaving—none of it mattered when the fire had nearly caused casualties.
“I’m sorry, Sasha. Karon. I’ll cover all the repair costs and replace the burned furniture.”
“Oh, goodness, I told you it’s fine. But more importantly—are you okay, Edith?”
At Sasha’s question, Edith thought of what the flames had taken. Though the fire hadn’t spread, it had thoroughly burned her room—the clothes, some cash, her diary, and other personal belongings.
She felt a twinge of regret over the loss of Leon’s baby photo—but she didn’t show it.
She had grown used to losing things.
“…Yes. I’m fine.”
A bitter smile formed on Edith’s lips.
