If one excluded the surrounding circumstances, at least in this incident, Anette was the victim. Anette had the right to forgive him.
But Heiner still wore a face that said he could not understand. He spoke as if he were stunned.
“Are you trying to become a saint or something?”
At that, Anette let out a low laugh.
“I can’t do something like that, you know.”
It was a ludicrous thing to say. Because if one were to name the woman most unsuited to become a saint in Padania, it would undoubtedly be her.
“Katrin did not ask me for a letter of leniency. I decided it on my own. And….”
Feeling a sudden gaze upon her, Anette stopped speaking. Their eyes met while her face still retained a trace of a smile.
The air grew quiet. Without averting his eyes, Heiner continued to stare at her fixedly. After a stretch of silence, he muttered with a subdued expression.
“…I think it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you laugh like that.”
In an instant, the trace of laughter vanished from Anette’s face. Half-unconsciously, she raised a hand to cover her lips. Their eyes met again.
Slowly, Anette lowered her hand. A quiet voice flowed out.
“I’m sorry.”
“….”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Anette tried to show him a smile again, but for some reason, she could not manage it.
“It’s just that everything….”
“….”
“I’m sorry, Heiner. For everything, even what I don’t know.”
Anette spoke with utmost honesty, yet she was not shaken in the least by her own heart or the words she uttered.
She was calm, as though simply stating facts as they were. She seemed like someone who had depleted even the bare minimum of emotion she could show.
The one shaken was, rather, Heiner. Strength entered his jaw. Heiner clenched his molars tightly before letting out a hollow laugh and speaking.
“Do you even know what you should be apologizing for?”
Anette did not answer. Because she did not know exactly what answer she should give.
She knew that Heiner hated her, but she did not know whether it was simply because she was a count’s daughter, or because of some other personal grudge.
Looking at Anette, who could not answer, Heiner smiled half-mockingly and half-bitterly.
“Just don’t apologize to me for the rest of your life.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“That would be better.”
Anette’s lips quivered slightly. Words would not come, as if she had swallowed something wrong. After several attempts, she finally whispered.
“…I will.”
***
Anette thought as she filled the bathtub with water. She thought that the reason he did not wish for a divorce was because he still had his life bound to revenge.
When people devote their lives to a single goal, they often lose their way. They come to mistake that goal for what they truly want.
Such people usually only realize after coming very far that this was not actually what they had truly wanted.
Anette thought Heiner was in such a state. He still could not escape the past. As long as she was there, Heiner would spend his life making himself miserable.
Steam rose in wisps from the bathtub. Anette put her hand into the water. A warmth that seemed a bit excessive seeped into her fingertips.
No, in truth, it did not matter even if he was not.
Maintaining a distorted life while bound together in unhappiness—even if that was what he truly wanted, it did not matter.
She was exhausted and broken. What Heiner wanted had already come to pass. It was merely that the duration would be slightly shorter.
Anette poured rose water generously into the hot water. Because she had poured too much, the rose scent was not merely fragrant but overwhelming, yet she paid it no mind.
Anette entered the bathtub fully clothed. As her body sank, the water level rose. Her tensed muscles relaxed smoothly, and her vision blurred.
She tilted her head back and slowly closed her eyes. Dark, old afterimages squirmed in her mind.
“Don’t think about anything, Anette. Just live as things flow.”
How could one do that?
“It’s what you’re good at.”
How could one not think about anything?
Even if one tried to turn one’s back on all the uproar, one could not. Even if one closed one’s eyes and covered one’s ears and tried to console oneself with one’s own innocence, one could not.
One thinks of the weight of life. One thinks of guilt and innocence. One thinks of the past and the future, of responsibility and consequences.
The conclusion reached after thinking and rethinking was clear.
If it was a life wrongly born and wrongly raised, if the very act of carrying on with life became a wound to someone, was it not right to discard it?
Anette took the knife she had placed beside the bathtub. Its short blade glimmered faintly through the steam. It was the knife Heiner had given her for self-defense when she met Katrin.
She had thought about dying countless times. She had weighed the circumstances: falling from a high place, plunging her head underwater, taking medicine, shooting herself with a gun, slitting her wrists, and so on.
In the first case, there were no buildings nearby high enough to die from the fall. If she went a bit farther, there was a bell tower, but access to the railing was blocked.
In the second, she thought she would be unable to endure it and give up; in the third, the medicine she had gathered had already been confiscated.
And the fourth was difficult to execute because civilian gun use was restricted. Obtaining a gun suddenly would also look suspicious.
So the last option was the one she chose.
Anette did not know exactly where and how deep she had to cut to die. She had never once heard of such things in her life.
So she simply intended to plunge it as deep as she could.
Of course she was afraid. Terrified. Due to the past gun incident, Anette knew how painful it was to see blood.
But she did not hesitate.
The heavy scent of roses stung her nose. Her head ached, but she rather felt refreshed. She gripped the knife tightly.
Her breathing calmly settled. It felt like putting a period on the agony, conflict, and pain that had lasted so long. Anette smiled lightly.
Congratulations, Heiner.
Your revenge has succeeded.
***
In the dimmed room, only a single incandescent bulb was on. Heiner took out a cigar and placed it in his mouth. The surface of the unlit cigar gleamed dully.
Work hours had long since passed, but he did not feel like getting up. If he happened to run into Anette at the mansion, he had not decided how to act or react.
Not that she ever came out of her room anyway.
A cold wind flowed in through the open window. Heiner gazed vacantly at the letter of leniency Anette had left behind. Gradually, his focus sharpened, and the blurry letters became clear.
The content of the letter of leniency was purely formal. Nothing unusual. However, the handwriting was messy, as if written with the left hand.
Frowning as he read it, Heiner reached out and opened the bottom drawer. Inside was a bundle of letters and various small items.
He untied the string of the letter bundle and took out an envelope. A penmanship preserved from some bygone era leaped out at him.
It was clearly different from the messy handwriting on the letter of leniency. At first he had merely been comparing the penmanship, but before he knew it, he was reading the letter.
*To Heiner, who always thinks he’s right,*
*Did you think I’d be happy if you sent only a gift without a single letter after parting like that? Shouldn’t you have sent at least a short note with the present?*
*The necklace is beautiful. Your eye for jewels is as excellent as your eye for women. However, you need to study women’s hearts a bit more.*
*You might think I’m a tiresome woman for saying this, but I’ve been reading articles about love horoscopes and how to maintain a healthy relationship in newspapers and magazines very carefully…….*
Heiner let out a short laugh without realizing it. He had never once thought her a tiresome woman. If he had, he would have had her executed during the revolution long ago.
He thought it was truly useless chatter, yet his eyes scanned diligently down the page.
*You know, even when I’m walking down the street, if I see clothes in a display window, I think about our next meeting. I think, how nice it would be to wear this on a date. Have you ever done that?*
*(…omitted…)*
*The day before yesterday, I had tea with Miss Coco at a café. I was so exhausted after quarreling with you that I couldn’t really take in what she was saying. Then suddenly Miss Coco brought up several types of relationships between men and women. Only then did I start focusing on the conversation. I was curious what type we belonged to…….*
Heiner had done so too. When he was in the army, fools whose greatest boast was how many women they had laid would chatter away about relationships.
Heiner considered them unpleasant nonsense, yet unconsciously listened. And at the same time, he always thought of Anette.
He knew such vulgar talk was completely at odds with her, but even so, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
*The reason I’m rambling on about this embarrassing story is…….*
*I’m saying I’m sorry too, Heiner.*
*And it means I like you that much.*
*Early Summer, Year 714 AU*
*Your lover, Anette Rosenberg*