Chapter 63
“What’s this?”
“What do you mean, what? It’s a newspaper article.”
“Anna never did any harm to Beldam. She’s just an ordinary pianist.”
“She might’ve stayed that way—if you hadn’t chased after her so fervently. But not anymore. You think the world would sit quietly while a woman loved by Giles Hessen walked around free?”
“Wasn’t it enough for me alone to take the stones?”
“So you really do love her. You didn’t bat an eye when they dragged you through the mud, but the moment Anna’s name appears, you lose your temper.”
She watched his every reaction with a kind of scientific curiosity, as if Giles were an experiment rather than a man. The image of him as a fellow cadet from their academy days had long since faded. All that remained was the “devil” the state had painted for her through relentless propaganda.
To Louise, seeing Giles so restless and anxious over a woman’s safety was almost amusing. Contrary to the monstrous figure portrayed by the media, he seemed utterly—human.
“It’s fine,” she said coolly. “There’s nothing to worry about. Beldam doesn’t hate Anna. The people are simply… very curious about her.”
“They’re dissecting her life in the papers, Louise. You expect me to just sit here and think that’s fine?”
Giles shot up from his seat in fury, and immediately a soldier stationed in the corner stepped forward, pressing a gun to his head. But Giles didn’t so much as flinch.
He’d thought Anna would be safe. That here, she’d finally find the freedom she longed for—but he’d been wrong.
Her name was already on everyone’s lips. People would judge her, pity her—or worse, condemn her. And such things do not fade easily.
Louise looked up at him with dull eyes.
“Sit down.”
Reluctantly, he obeyed. The realization that he had dragged Anna into yet another kind of hell broke him all over again.
In a trembling voice, he pleaded,
“Please… leave Anna alone. Let her live quietly.”
“There’s no point in begging me. I’m just an officer. Even the Prime Minister himself couldn’t stop what’s already begun.”
“It was Beldam who started all this, wasn’t it? There’s no way the press could have uncovered so much on their own.”
“I told you before, didn’t I? You’re not a traitor. If anything, after killing all those nobles, you’re still the most loyal soldier we have.”
Louise leaned back, speaking calmly.
“Beldam needs you. You know as well as I do that we lost the Great War. The entire nation suffered. People’s lives were destroyed. Under normal circumstances, the government would’ve been crushed beneath the people’s rage. But then you surrendered at Ipswin and wiped out the aristocracy. Suddenly, a perfect story fell into our lap—a story that redirected their anger.”
“You can do whatever you want to me,” Giles said. “I’m ready to pay for my sins. But Anna doesn’t need to be dragged into this.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? We need a story. How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not the criminal here. Honestly, no one cares that you killed the nobles. What we do need are headlines that provoke. You think we brought Anna into this on purpose? Giles, you’re a sensation. And as long as you love her, she can’t escape that.”
In the end, it was Giles who had doomed Anna to this fate. His refusal to let her go had come back to destroy her.
Broken, he asked quietly,
“If I die… if the state executes me… will Anna finally be free?”
Louise paused, then offered a faint, almost sympathetic smile.
“No.”
An invisible label would follow Anna for the rest of her life.
She might have survived—but she would never be free.
And it was Giles who had made her that way.
He had wanted to help her. Because she was precious. Because he loved her. But the closer he tried to get, the more misfortune rained down upon her.
With a pounding headache, Giles buried his face in his hands. He tried to wipe their entire conversation from his mind.
What can I possibly do?
Every time he tried to act, it only brought her more suffering.
He didn’t mind dying; he had long accepted it as inevitable. All he wanted was the small comfort of knowing he had returned to Anna the peaceful life she deserved. That thought alone could make even death feel meaningless.
But in the end, he ruined everything.
Giles looked down at the newspaper photo of Anna, and without thinking, brushed his thumb over her printed face. But only the rough texture of paper met his touch.
“Please discharge me.”
I said this to the doctor. He adjusted his glasses several times, clearly unsettled.
“Discharge, you say?”
“Yes. I want to leave.”
He exchanged a look with the nurse standing nearby.
“You’ve been hospitalized less than three days. Is something wrong? Are you unhappy with your care?”
“I’m not that sick. I know I still need treatment, but I can recover perfectly well at my own estate.”
“My lady, you should really remain under professional care.”
“I can have a private physician visit me at home, can’t I?”
“Well…”
He hesitated, uncertain. But my mind was made up, and I had no intention of backing down.
“If it turns out I can’t manage, I’ll come back. No one knows my own condition better than I do. I can take care of myself.”
“…If you insist, my lady.”
At last, the doctor gave in with a sigh. He couldn’t have forced me anyway; I wasn’t ill enough to require constant nursing. I was simply in the stage of quiet recovery—and that didn’t have to happen in a hospital.
“Please refrain from any strenuous activity,” he warned. “Focus on rest. Avoid going out until the wound has healed completely. Change your bandages and gauze regularly, and don’t forget to disinfect the area.”
“Yes, yes.”
I replied absentmindedly and rose to prepare for departure. My clothes had been washed and neatly folded in the wardrobe.
“Have you called for someone to escort you home?”
“They should be on their way already.”
When I stepped behind the screen to change, the doctor finally took his leave. Once he was gone, the room fell silent.
I’d already told Arendt I intended to leave—even before getting the doctor’s approval. I couldn’t stand staying there another moment.
His cold, unreadable expression always unsettled me; I didn’t want to see him again unless absolutely necessary. Still, I had no choice but to contact him—I didn’t even know the way back to my own estate yet.
I gathered the stack of newspapers Lotte had given me. The content was difficult to stomach, but I needed to read every word.
Articles that painted Giles as inhuman… and others that dissected me in gruesome detail, displaying pieces of my life across the page. I couldn’t pretend not to see how vulnerable I was in Beldam.
Soon a man in immaculate attire entered the room. One of my father’s former servants, most likely. Though newly assigned, he greeted me with the practiced ease of someone long familiar with the household.
“Lady Eloise,” he said with a bow. “The carriage is ready outside.”
“Thank you for coming.”
He led me through the corridors and out of the hospital. No one paid me any special attention; nurses and patients went about their business. I was just another patient being discharged.
But the moment we stepped outside, everything changed.
A group of reporters waiting near the entrance surged forward the instant they saw me, their camera flashes exploding in blinding bursts. I instinctively raised my hand to shield my eyes.
“Miss Bismar! How does it feel to return to Beldam?”
“Is it true you nearly died because of Giles Hessen?”
“Do you still love Giles Hessen?”
They shouted over one another, their voices cutting through the chaos. I couldn’t even think, let alone respond.
The servant who’d come to fetch me shoved through the crowd, snarling,
“Back off! Lay a hand on the lady and you’ll deal with the law!”
With his help, I managed to climb into the carriage. Even then, the reporters swarmed the windows, their cameras clicking endlessly as I sat frozen inside.
