Abel Claren.
The son of a minor baron with no land to his name.
Around this time in her previous life, she had been relentlessly bullied by Abel. The harassment only stopped after war broke out and his conscription papers arrived.
Which meant that, unless something changed, she would have to endure him for several more years.
At least, that was how it was supposed to be.
“You made a house call to some count's estate yesterday, didn't you? Help out your poor older brother. If I hit it big, I'll pay you back double.”
Still sprawled on the ground, Abel spread his arms dramatically and grinned.
Thankfully, they rented a place tucked away in a secluded corner of town because they couldn't afford anything better.
If they had lived downtown, this idiot's shameless antics would've spread rumors throughout the entire neighborhood that she was actually a woman.
“How long are you planning to keep living like a complete loser?”
“Oh? A loser, you say? Your dear brother here has simply been a little unlucky. But now that I've found my little sister again... perhaps my luck has finally changed?”
A sharp glint appeared in Abel's unfocused eyes.
Even looking back, she had to admit—his mind worked frighteningly well whenever it came to doing bad things.
Abel had waited until she found employment before suddenly reappearing and extorting money from her.
After stealing her house-call fees under the pretense of collecting a "licensing fee," he squandered every coin at the racetrack and gambling halls in the port city.
Since Abel himself was living proof that she had stolen someone else's medical credentials, Ibel had no choice but to hand over the money.
“This is all I have right now.”
She pulled an envelope from a drawer and tossed it to him.
Abel caught it, sniffed it theatrically, and broke into a broad grin.
“Good, good. We'll call it even for now. But make sure you have more ready next time. My tab at the tavern is starting to pile up.”
...Should I just shove a pistol into that loose mouth of his?
For a brief moment, her reason nearly vanished without a trace.
Barely restraining herself, Ibel leaned against the window and watched Abel saunter away with a smug smile.
“Even if things continue exactly as before, he'll end up getting drafted and dragged off anyway...”
Suddenly, she remembered the words the Grand Duke had spoken shortly before his death.
"Getting married and becoming a good husband wouldn't be so bad, either."
"Taking care of a family... living like everyone else."
Maybe that was why he had posted that advertisement.
Or perhaps God had granted this miracle so he could live that kind of life.
Not that she was particularly religious.
After agonizing over it for hours, Ibel finally pulled out an old travel case as the sun began to set.
She neatly packed her medical instruments, then retrieved the travel funds hidden in a secret compartment and counted them carefully.
Losing yesterday's house-call fee hurt, but she always set aside ten percent for emergencies like this.
The problem is... where exactly am I supposed to go to apply?
That small problem was solved by a newspaper advertisement published the following day.
[-.- --- -. .-. .- -.. / …- --- -. / . -… . .-. … - . .. -. . / .-.. .. -.-. …. - . -. / .-.. .. -. -.. . -. … - .-. .- … … . / .---- ..--- . / .--. --- … - -.-. --- -.. . / .---- ----- ----- .---- …--]
The advertisement contained nothing but Morse code and absolutely no explanation.
Typical of him.
Ibel naturally deciphered it.
“Konrad von Eberstein. Lichten Linden Street No. 12. Postal Code 10013...”
Her gaze lingered briefly on the name Konrad.
Of course. At this point in time, he's still alive.
Now that she knew where to go, she decided to leave before Abel could show up again.
Locking the door firmly behind her, Ibel grabbed her suitcase and never looked back.
Just as the Grand Duke had done, she was taking her first step toward changing her fate.
“Do you really think the person you're looking for will figure this out and come here?”
Several days after Bavaria's bizarre advertisement became the talk of the capital, inside one of the Grand Duke's secret residences in the capital—
Aside from the Grand Duke himself, only a handful of trusted individuals knew about this hidden location:
His most trusted aide, Matthias.
Colonel Konrad von Eberstein, who had loyally served him for years.
And a few others.
Normally, the safe house sat empty, with no one even assigned to maintain it.
Today, however, two shadows stretched long beneath the window.
Watching the crimson evening sky, Victor replied quietly.
“She will come.”
“Could you at least tell me who she is? Where you met her? I don't understand any of this. Publicly, everyone thinks you're staying in your territory, but instead you suddenly rushed off to the capital—”
He had come to meet a comrade who had walked through a darkness worse than nightmares alongside him.
Not that he was the type to say something so embarrassingly sentimental.
And even if he told the truth, nobody would believe him.
“No.”
Victor cut off his aide's complaints and turned his gaze toward the yarrow and dandelions growing along the roadside.
Several minutes later, someone emerged beyond the gently swaying grass.
Platinum-blonde hair glowing strangely beneath the setting sun.
Long, delicate eyelashes.
Full lips.
And amber eyes that reminded one of the midsummer sun.
Whenever he saw her desperately trying to save lives amid falling ash, teeth clenched against despair, he always found himself thinking the same thing.
Like being pulled into a whirlpool.
She really came.
The moment the thought crossed his mind, Matthias nearly shouted.
“W-What?! Someone actually came! But that's a boy, isn't it? His hair's short!”
“Escort her inside. Politely.”
“Y-Yes, sir!”
Matthias hurried downstairs in confusion.
Victor waited quietly.
Ordinary people couldn't read Morse code.
Only those connected to the military could.
The safe house's location might be exposed, but that didn't matter.
If his objective was achieved, the place would be abandoned anyway.
Besides, this wasn't wartime.
Meeting Abel again was worth more than a single safe house.
And the code he'd used wasn't even standard Morse.
It was a special system developed by the Bavarian Army during the war.
By now, people all over the place are probably desperately trying to decipher it.
It wouldn't be easy.
The system had been created by a soldier with terrifying talent for cryptography.
Then a calm voice spoke from the doorway.
“Hello. I'm here to apply for the temporary Grand Duchess position.”
Victor couldn't help smiling.
He was not a man who smiled often.
“At this point in time, you shouldn't be able to read that Morse code. A mere doctor would have no reason to know the system used by the Bavarian Army.”
“...”
“If you hadn't found your way here, I was planning to try another method. Fortunately, that won't be necessary.”
“It has been a long time, Your Grace.”
Her voice resembled cool autumn air.
A voice capable of summoning autumn even in the height of summer.
Slowly turning around, Victor took in the sight of her.
She looked far thinner and more fragile than he remembered.
The evening sunlight climbed from the cuffs of her trousers upward, bathing her entire figure in warm reddish gold.
As she stepped forward, memories he could never forget stirred vividly once more.
“It took me an entire day before I could believe it. Was it the same for you?”
“Yes. Seeing that Your Grace survived as well convinced me that... perhaps I haven't completely lost my mind.”
They had died together.
And returned to the past together.
This was neither a dream nor a hallucination.
What proof could be more convincing than each other?
She clenched her right fist and placed it over the left side of her chest.
A salute unique to the Bavarian Autonomous Legion.
“Second Lieutenant Abel Claren, Medical Corps, Bavarian Autonomous Legion. Returning safely and reporting for duty.”
Among an army of fifty thousand soldiers, only twelve had survived until the very end.
She had been one of those survivors who endured on the front lines until the last moment.
This actually worked.
Ibel muttered inwardly as she lifted her teacup.