Chapter 60
“When will the trial… be held?”
“You seem quite curious about Hessen.”
“Wouldn’t it be stranger if I weren’t? I have a right to know. I’m the one who brought him here.”
When I protested, Arendt nodded silently. He still showed no emotion whatsoever.
“Nothing has been confirmed yet. Even we didn’t expect Hessen to return to Beldam this soon. Once preparations are complete, all necessary procedures will take place. You only need to watch, my lady.”
He straightened his posture. Even as we spoke, the soup on the table was growing cold. Breakfast had long ceased to matter to anyone.
“As you wish, we’ll guarantee your safety. And not just because you brought Hessen here. Many already know who you are — as Giles Hessen’s lover. You must already understand what it means to be connected with the worst traitor in Beldam’s history.”
I nodded. To be known as the woman Giles Hessen loved would be nothing short of poison. That much, even I knew.
“The press will swarm to you, trying to win you over. Think about it — if a newspaper prints the story of the woman who shared love with Beldam’s most infamous man, how much money do you think they’ll make? They’d sell out before the ink even dries. We don’t want that kind of chaos.”
“How exactly do you intend to protect me?”
“You’ll stay at the manor. Don’t leave for a while; it’s safest if you remain inside. Your face isn’t known yet, but we can’t take chances. We’ll handle the rest.”
Arendt glanced quickly at my expression, then added,
“I mean Count Bismar’s estate.”
“The estate still exists?”
“The late Count had temporarily moved to Ipswin, but he remained a noble of Beldam. Some of his property here was never liquidated. Now that he’s been killed, all of it belongs to you. When it’s time for your discharge, a servant will come to escort you there.”
The thought that every asset once belonging to the Count was now mine didn’t feel real. In truth, I wasn’t even a member of his family.
I had been more of a puppet, used by him rather than loved.
“I have a few questions before I leave.”
“Go ahead.”
“You’re aware that a few months ago, we attempted to escort Hessen back to Beldam, aren’t you?”
I could only nod. He was referring to the Orient Express operation — the one where I had originally been meant to play a key role.
“But that attempt ended in failure.”
I’d heard that Ipswin’s forces managed to subdue them quickly — largely because of my help. They’d said my piano playing allowed them to track the train faster.
I knew what Arendt wanted to ask.
“You want to know why I did it, don’t you?”
“I know it’s not a pleasant topic, but we can’t just overlook it. I ask for your understanding.”
“It’s fine. I understand. Of course you’d ask. Strictly speaking, I did betray you then, didn’t I?”
Arendt didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
Giles’s words echoed in my mind again:
Don’t take my side, Anna.
The whole nation hates me.
Don’t get dragged into it.
But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t abandon him. I didn’t want to. The comfort of a peaceful life, freedom, and immense wealth — none of it could outweigh the loss and fear that consumed me.
I instinctively knew: the moment I saw Giles die, I would fall into my own personal hell. I might be able to pretend to be happy, but I would never truly be happy again.
I wasn’t the kind of woman who could forget the man who once whispered love in my ear, who once told me that he lived on because of me.
So I made my choice.
I would not betray Giles.
Just as he had never betrayed me — not until the end.
“I didn’t want Giles to go to Beldam. I knew he’d die if he did — and not just die, but die horribly.”
“You mean you didn’t want him to die?”
“I loved him. I still do.”
“You love Giles Hessen.”
He told me not to take his side, but I couldn’t do that. Since the whole nation had turned against him, at least one person — I — had to be on his side. Whether or not that was the smart thing to do, I didn’t care. I couldn’t throw stones at him.
Strategically right or wrong, I couldn’t lie about my feelings. No, I couldn’t bring myself to. With Giles’s life hanging by a thread, I simply couldn’t fabricate falsehoods.
“Then why did you do it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the one who brought Giles Hessen to Beldam. If you loved him, why did you do that?”
“I had to survive. Ipswin was trying to kill us. I had no choice. Staying there meant we both would die. I never wanted to come to Beldam — it was Giles’s decision alone. He came here to die, to save me.”
Arendt listened with a look of keen interest. Being a Beldam officer himself, I didn’t expect my words to change his stance toward Giles. But I still had to say them.
“It’s the truth.”
I wanted people to know that he, too, had been human — that beyond the crimes, he was someone capable of love, someone worthy of being loved.
At least to me, he was. And I didn’t want to distort that truth with my own hands.
If that was the last thing I could do for him, then so be it.
Giles Hessen opened his eyes in a stark white room. At first, he couldn’t make sense of reality. The very fact that he had woken up felt wrong.
He remembered being shot at the border. He should have died there. So why… why had he opened his eyes here?
He tried moving his body. The sensation of being alive grew more vivid — painfully so, as the gunshot wound began to ache. Someone had clearly treated him; there were no traces of blood anywhere.
Heavy brass cuffs clinked at his wrists, bound to the headboard by a chain so he couldn’t leave the bed.
Giles sat up, thinking quietly before closing his eyes again. To think that after committing so many sins, he could die cleanly — that had been his arrogance. Instant death was too merciful for someone like him.
The door opened, and someone entered. One glance at the uniform was enough for Giles to know — a Beldam soldier.
The soldier said nothing, didn’t even meet his eyes. He simply released the chain from the bed and gave it a hard tug.
“Get up.”
Giles obeyed in silence. As he was led away, he glanced around. The place was too luxurious to be a prison. There were no other prisoners. It looked more like a mansion than a detention facility — silent, heavy, and suffocatingly still.
The soldier guided him into another room. The windows were all sealed; bright lamps replaced sunlight. A table was set with food before him.
“I brought him.”
Another soldier was seated at the head of the table, waiting — a high-ranking officer, not a common trooper. When she nodded, the guard released Giles’s chain and stepped back, watching from a distance.
“Sit.”
Her tone was commanding. Confused by the situation, Giles obeyed. He wasn’t in a cell, and instead of torture, he was being seated before a fine meal.
Perhaps this was a new form of psychological torment — to make him believe he was being treated kindly, only to crush that hope later.
As he considered that, the officer spoke.
“Hungry? Sorry, I can’t take off the cuffs. But you can still use a fork, can’t you?”
Giles didn’t answer. He felt no hunger. The despair of being alive had hollowed him out.
“Why no answer?”
“…I’m fine.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.”
“I’m no longer a Beldam soldier.”
“No one ever gave you permission to retire.”
“What I’ve done…”
“—wiped out nearly every noble rooted in Beldam, yes. I know. You don’t need to explain. Even a three-year-old in Beldam knows your glorious record.”
She poured herself a glass of blood-red wine and drank. Giles kept his eyes fixed on the white plate before him.
“Not to your taste, I see.”
“……”
“Are you going to keep pretending you don’t recognize me, Captain?”
