Anette had not woken up for several days.
In a corner of a room where almost no light entered, Hainer sat motionless. His dark gray eyes remained fixed on the face of the woman lying down.
He was afraid her pale, closed eyes would never open again. His mind knew that keeping watch like this would not change anything, but his body refused to listen to reason.
Unable to sleep properly, Hainer ran a hand down his haggard face. His usually immaculate appearance was completely disheveled.
“Fortunately, the wound is not deep enough to be fatal.”
The doctor had said so. From the beginning, slitting one’s wrists rarely led to death. Hainer had known that as well.
But Anette did not wake up. Words like *that won’t kill you* were meaningless now. She had not woken up. That was the only conclusion left.
The doctor cited several reasons for this.
First, she had not fully recovered from the aftereffects of a previous gunshot wound and a miscarriage. Already at a stage where she had needed more time to heal, this incident had overlapped and left her completely debilitated.
Furthermore, although it was not *enough to kill*, the wound itself had been quite deep, causing shock from excessive blood loss.
Lastly, the doctor said it might be a matter of the patient’s own will.
That the patient might not want to wake up.
“Anette.”
Hainer spoke in a cracked, muttering voice.
“Anette Valdemar.”
It was a name that still felt unfamiliar, no matter how many times he uttered it. He let out a brief, hollow laugh and slowly bowed his head.
“It makes no sense that you’re like this. That you would do such a thing…… it makes no sense.”
Unable to bring himself to look at her face, Hainer dropped his gaze to the floor and continued speaking slowly.
“You were always afraid of so many things. You were scared of the dark, scared of heights…… scared of water…… scared of blood…….”
His throat tightened. Hainer gritted his teeth.
She was a woman who feared many things. A timid, weak woman. A woman who had grown up sheltered, knowing nothing of true misfortune or dread.
Even now, that thought had not changed. Anette had resolved to die—not because she had suddenly found the courage.
But because life had become more terrible than death.
*It turned out the way you wanted.*
A faint whisper echoed in his ears.
*She’s unhappy enough to die. Just as you wished.*
That was right. He had wished it. He had wanted that woman, who had lived enjoying every beautiful and good thing, to taste bitter misfortune at least once. Just as he had.
*You even wished she would just die. Because if she disappeared from this world, your heart would be at ease.*
There was a time when he had wished for that. He had thought countless times of simply killing her. But in the end, he could not do it.
In the end, he could not do it.
And yet, this was the result.
His large upper body slowly crumpled over the bed. With his head collapsing downward, he buried his face in both hands.
He thought and looked back. Looked back and ruminated. Where had it gone wrong? What should he have done? What on earth was it that he wanted?
At the end of questions that yielded no answers, he muttered unsteadily.
No.
Not like this.
You can’t leave me like this.
This isn’t what I wanted.
What I wanted was…….
As if something in his head had broken, his thoughts ground to a halt. The whisper had faded away, and only a dull ringing echoed in his ears.
Hainer remained motionless for a long while, his face buried in his hands.
***
The news of Anette’s suicide attempt was reported extensively in the newspapers. On the day of the attempt, the entire mansion had been in such chaos that before Hainer could intervene, the rumors had already spread.
The capital buzzed with the story. While there were voices of sympathy, the prevailing opinion was that it was merely a show to garner attention and pity.
From morning, the front of the mansion swarmed with reporters. Standing by the window, Hainer looked down at them with eyes completely devoid of light.
He had always valued freedom of the press, but at this moment, he felt like mowing down the reporters who had swarmed like a pack of wolves with gunfire.
Sensing Hainer’s ominous mood, the butler, who had hesitated briefly, cautiously approached.
“Commander, a guest for the Madame has arrived…… What shall I do?”
Still keeping his gaze fixed outside, Hainer replied.
“Tell them she is in no state to receive visitors and send them back.”
“Well, they said that if they cannot see the Madame, they would at least like to meet with you, Commander…….”
“Who is it?”
“It is Lord Ansgar Stetter. He came looking for the Madame before as well.”
“Just turn him—”
Hainer, about to say “send him back,” stopped short. He swallowed a sigh silently.
Ansgar Stetter was among the people he least wanted to see right now. But rather than cause a needless commotion after Anette woke up, it was better to deal with whatever this was now.
“……Show him to the main reception room.”
The butler bowed and turned around. Hainer watched the stooped figure for a moment. He was the eldest son of a family that had served as butlers to the Count’s household for generations.
After the revolution, many who had worked in noble households lost their jobs. The current head butler of the mansion was one of them.
Hainer, who had been a leading force in the revolution, created jobs in businesses confiscated from the nobles and in newly established public institutions. And he had ensured that former employees of noble houses were given priority.
But even that was not enough. Other problems abounded. Not every aspect of the revolution could be good.
All responsibilities and obligations had been thrust upon Hainer, who had become a hero before he knew it. At times, he wanted to throw everything away. But he could not.
A great cause? Justice? Conviction? It was not because of such things. Hainer knew those grandiose words did not suit him.
It was solely because of her.
Because of his base inferiority complex and his desire for revenge.
Hainer’s gray eyes darkened further. The reporters were still clamoring on the first floor. He gripped the window frame tightly, then soon released his strength.
***
Ansgar grabbed Hainer by the collar the moment he saw him.
“You son of a bitch……!”
Hainer could have easily shaken him off, but he stood silently.
Ansgar growled.
“Do you feel better now? Are you satisfied, having driven Anette to that state!”
“…….”
“You heartless, tearless piece of human scum.”
“…….”
“What, does hearing this from a trashy noble offend you? Does it disgust you? You must have had great fun trampling noble families.”
“…….”
“Say something, you bastard.”
“You’ve grown foul-mouthed.”
Hainer brushed off Ansgar’s hand with a flick and straightened his collar. Ansgar’s nape flushed red at how effortlessly he had been shaken off.
While not as much as Anette, Ansgar Stetter had once been a respectable suitor who exemplified the ideal of nobility. But just as Anette had changed over the years, so had he.
Hainer stepped back from him and asked dryly.
“Why have you come?”
“I came because I cannot entrust Anette’s life to the likes of you, that’s why.”
“…….”
“You could kill Anette using this opportunity, couldn’t you? If she dies, you’re the culprit.”
“If I were going to kill her, I’d have done it long ago.”
Hainer sneered faintly. The moment Ansgar tried to say something, thinking Hainer was mocking him, Hainer opened his mouth with all trace of laughter gone from his face.
“So, you’re saying you’ll take her away?”
“Yes.”
“Where to? Franche?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think I would hand Anette over to where the monarchist restoration forces are?”
“So you’ll live like this forever without getting a divorce?”
“…….”
“It’s a detriment to you as well, keeping Anette. You must know that even if she were taken to Franche, there would be no threat.”
It was not wrong. At least in the current Padania, the monarchist restoration forces held no power. Unless they established a separate dynasty among themselves.
And to do that, they needed Anette. She was of royal blood, held the highest standing among the surviving former nobles, and was young enough to bear heirs.
In other words, Anette’s descendants could succeed the royal line.
*……At least on the surface.*
The fact that Anette was barren was unknown to outsiders. It meant she no longer held the practical value the restoration forces desired.
Would Ansgar Stetter refuse to take her if he learned this fact? It was impossible to know.
“You’re not wrong, Ansgar Stetter.”
Hainer stopped breathing for a moment, then slowly exhaled as he spoke.
“I cannot hand her over.”
“……Ha.”
Ansgar shook his head in disbelief.
“It’s still not enough? How much…… how much more do you intend to make Anette miserable?”
Hainer could not answer. Because even he did not know the answer. He slowly closed and opened his eyes. For an instant, a bloody scene flitted across the inside of his eyelids.
That woman cannot leave me.
That sentence circled in his head like a categorical imperative stripped of all context. Hainer repeated it like a mantra.
That woman…… cannot leave me.