‘What on earth.’
She thought about fetching another glass, but she didn’t want to draw attention by causing an unnecessary commotion. In the end, Anette gave up and had no choice but to endure the grueling time once more.
Suddenly, a cry of “Ahh” arose from the stage. The host who had climbed onto the stage was holding a microphone. People’s gazes gathered toward the front one by one.
Anette gave the host a brief glance before soon looking out the window without interest. Complete darkness had already settled outside.
The crowd burst into laughter at the host’s joke. After asking whether the food was delicious and if they were enjoying the banquet, the host got to the main point.
“We at the Belen Hotel have invited a special guest for those of you here today. Our president pulled some strings.”
Exclamations followed from the crowd. Even then, Anette continued to stare only out the window.
“For a performance befitting this beautiful autumn night—the amazing genius born from Padania, the sovereign of the keyboard, Felix Kafka!”
Anette’s body flinched. Her half-lidded eyes slowly widened, and her pupils began to tremble. She whipped her head around and looked at the man mounting the stage amid applause.
Felix Kafka.
The genius pianist who had swept first place in every competition, including the world’s most prestigious Prix Carlo International Competition.
He had once been Anette’s idol.
Felix bowed politely to the crowd and sat before the piano. He took a long breath in, then exhaled. And as if immersing himself in his own perfect world, he closed his eyes.
His face was so devout and holy it seemed otherworldly. As if only Felix and the piano existed in that grand hall.
Opening his eyes, Felix brushed his hair back once, then raised his left hand. Fingers that had momentarily lingered in the air slowly landed on the keys.
Anette couldn’t even breathe until the first note rang out as the keys were pressed.
Nocturne No. 2.
A refined melody wound through the air. It was a piece Anette had once performed countless times. Despite a nearly three-year hiatus, she could recall the theory vividly.
E-flat major. Ternary form. Broken chords in the left hand. Non-harmonic tones and chromatic melodies added as the melody repeated…….
Before each note’s breath could fade, Felix linked it to the next and granted it life. Between key and key, and between key and key. Following his hands, vitality was ceaselessly bestowed.
Felix was like a messenger reproducing the Idea in that very place. In this moment, the world upon which one stood felt meaningless, as though every inhalation and exhalation were held captive by his playing.
A melody whispering love to a lover by the window at midnight was so beautiful it brought tears to one’s eyes.
Piano Sonata, La Campanella…… And until the encore ended, she sat with her hands clasped tightly together. She hadn’t even felt the gaze upon her the entire time.
Thunderous applause rained down on Felix as he stood and bowed. People gathered around him as he stepped down from the stage.
Anette stood as if nailed in place, gazing at that sight with yearning eyes. Her chest swelled tight with emotion and sorrow.
You were my idol.
I nurtured dreams listening to your performances.
I wanted to become a pianist like you.
Words once spoken, and now unutterable, hovered in her mouth.
Anette and Felix had met several times in the past. It was thanks to her father’s connections. She had received his autograph, exchanged words with him, and even heard his encouragement and support.
But now, nothing was the same as it had been then.
Felix was a genius pianist who had succeeded despite his commoner origins. He had likely held her in contempt even then; he simply hadn’t shown it. Now, it would be even worse.
Anette’s eyelashes trembled. Heiner gazed down at her translucent face with somber eyes. The moment his lips moved to say something.
“Didn’t Mrs. Valdemar also play the piano?”
A gentle question was directed at Anette.
Anette, who had been half-dazed, flinched violently. Unable to hide her confusion, she looked around.
As if words had already been exchanged once, everyone, including Felix, was looking at Anette. Anette smiled awkwardly and shook her head.
“I did, but I…….”
“You placed third in an international competition, didn’t you.”
“Ah, I remember that too. It was big news in the capital newspaper.”
“Didn’t you hold a recital as well?”
“That was simply the late Count Dietrich personally renting the hall at his own expense…….”
As the chatter went back and forth, the color drained from Anette’s face.
It was true that her father had invested money in her recital, but the recital itself had been a qualification granted to competition winners through the foundation.
The woman who had first posed the question to Anette smiled brightly and proposed,
“If it’s alright, Mrs. Valdemar, would you play a piece for us?”
“Ah, no. I’m not skilled enough for that.”
“There’s no need to be so modest. I heard you received instruction from excellent pianists from a very young age.”
“I haven’t played for so long that my skills…….”
“It’s fine. Come now.”
The woman wrapped her arm around Anette’s shoulder and guided her forward. Anette looked back at Heiner as if seeking help, but he merely stood there with an inscrutable face, silent.
A hollow laugh nearly escaped her in that instant.
*What had I expected from him?*
If anything, he would have welcomed this situation; he was hardly a man to stop it. What on earth had she expected from him?
Like she was being shoved, Anette sat before the piano and glanced at those gathered. Felix had his gaze fixed on her while nodding at something someone beside him said.
Anette turned her eyes to the piano. The keys seen up close after so long were endlessly unfamiliar.
No matter what piece she played now, it would obviously be shabby before Felix Kafka, a top-class pianist. Having rested for three years, it would be all the more so.
The reason they had asked her to perform in such a situation was obvious.
Born luckily into a wealthy noble family, having received the finest education and even held a recital…… and yet only possessing such meager skill. They wanted to expose and humiliate that fact here.
Anette hung her head with a pale face. Save for the occasional clinking of glasses, the hall was terrifyingly silent.
The longer the silence stretched, the more her mind crumbled with each passing moment. When she remained motionless for quite a while, some began to whisper. Those whispers sounded like the crack of a whip.
Anette squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and raised her hand with effort. But that hand could not reach the keys.
Her fingertips trembled. It wasn’t because of nerves or shame. It wasn’t because she feared the mockery she would receive after playing a wretched piece. Nor had she forgotten the music.
“Anette!”
It was simply…….
“You have to run!”
Simply, the piano…….
“Get up!”
The piano—she could not play it. Not a single note.
“Hurry, run—!”
A chill swept over her as if she’d been doused in cold water. Anette unknowingly covered her mouth with one hand. A sudden headache assaulted her, and her stomach churned madly.
Anette sprang up from her seat. The chair scraped back with a loud noise. Ignoring the bewildered faces of the people entirely, she quickly left the hall.
Without even time to close the door, she entered the restroom. She went straight to the toilet in the corner, grabbed it, and retched.
“Huek—.”
Her throat burned as if on fire. Anette continued to dry heave. After retching two or three times, nothing more came out, but her stomach still churned with unpleasant nausea.
“I’ve heard of Miss Rosenberg. They say your talent is remarkable. I hope to see you again someday as a junior colleague.”
Who could have known they would meet again in this manner. Anette’s tightly pressed lips trembled as if convulsing.
Talent? It was doubtful whether she’d ever had any to begin with, but even if she had, what use was it now? She couldn’t even bear to sit before a piano.
Having gasped roughly for some time, Anette rose unsteadily. She flushed the water and turned toward the sink, only to freeze dead in her tracks.
Heiner stood at the bathroom door like a ghost. For some reason, he wore a surprised expression. One she had not once seen in the past three years.
Anette turned her head away. Her head hurt, and she didn’t want to think deeply. She washed her hands at the sink, rinsed her mouth, and moved toward the door.
Even then, Heiner remained rooted to the spot. When she reached him, Anette closed her eyes as if exhausted. She was tired.
“……I want to go home.”
***
To her, it felt as though everything had happened overnight.
When armed revolutionaries stormed all the way to the Rosenberg mansion, Anette was playing the piano in her family’s practice room. The competition was right around the corner. She had no time to pay attention to anything else.
Because the room was filled with the sound of the piano, she hadn’t heard the noise outside. Not until her father burst through the door with an urgent face.
“Anette, Anette! We have to run!”
“Father? Why all of a sudden…….”
“There’s no time to explain, so get up first! Toward the back of the mansion—!”
Bang!
With the gunshot, Dietrich’s pupils contracted. Blood splattered across the wall and floor. Anette screamed and covered her mouth.
His staggering body soon fell into the hallway outside with a heavy thud. In Anette’s field of vision, she could see nothing but her father’s sprawled legs.
The revolutionaries’ footsteps echoed through the mansion. Having advanced deep into the hallway, they stopped before Dietrich’s corpse and exchanged words.
“They said we shouldn’t execute them immediately……!”
“……It was a misfire…….”
“For now, until…… gets here…….”
Her eyes met one of theirs. The revolutionary immediately aimed his gun at her, then lowered it again, perhaps judging that she posed no real threat.
“The count’s daughter, I see.”
A smirk rose to their lips.
“You must have been leisurely playing the piano? How very noble.”
It had happened three years ago.