Chapter 15
I Just Want to Go Back
2023.08.15.
There were several voices. Perhaps three or four. What they had in common was that each one carried a sneering hostility.
“Can’t you tell by the black hair? She must be illegitimate.”
“Even if she’s illegitimate, if she’s of noble blood, black hair wouldn’t appear.”
“Then she must have dyed it. When someone wants the Emperor’s attention, what wouldn’t they do?”
At one person’s comment, the others collapsed into laughter like falling acorns.
“I don’t understand. The Martinecs had everything they could want.”
“Why? I understand. She’s an Operta. Haven’t you heard the rumors?”
Operta was Belf’s underworld. Naturally, the quality of its rumors wasn’t high. The whispers from over the walls were no different.
“If she touches this man and that man, eventually even the Emperor might want to grope her, right?”
“Ugh, how vulgar. And they expect us to call such a woman a Lady?”
“Calling her a Lady would be the lucky part. Helen even got slapped. If the Emperor’s mind changes, her head could be cut off, yet she struts around like she owns the world.”
When the name Helen came up, Shimoren was certain that these chatterers were the maids who had once served Anette at Sheyen Palace.
The maid who got slapped was named Helen.
Palace maids, especially those serving the royal family, were usually taken from noble households. Mabel had also become a palace maid for the same reason. Noble daughters, raised with care, only volunteered to serve others for one purpose: it became their network and career.
Thus, if a story circulated about a maid getting slapped while working, it would tarnish only that person’s reputation. Only those who had been present or were involved could speak so freely about such an incident.
Even so, this is excessive.
Even if the Martinecs were slightly removed from other noble families, they were still a family granted a dukedom. Moreover, the maids’ chatter was so hostile that even Shimoren—who harbored little affection for Anette—couldn’t help but frown.
“They really have no shame. Coming in pretending to be someone who’s dead, they must have thick skin.”
By the time this conversation arose, Shimoren’s patience had reached its limit. These maids would pay the price for speaking so boldly.
Shimoren immediately reached for the scabbard, but—
“They dare… right now?”
“Why?”
He was stopped.
Anette, who had been standing beside him just moments ago, had somehow come so close that her hand rested over his on the scabbard.
“That’s not even wrong, is it?”
“…Are you serious?”
Even after hearing such an insult up close, she showed no sign of backing down. Shimoren frowned, suspicious, but Anette’s expression remained unmoved.
“So… do you mean your opinion differs from theirs?”
No—her gaze was cold. Even without intentionally narrowing her eyes, her indifference cut like ice.
“You think the same thing. That I have no shame, that I entered pretending to be someone dead, a thick-faced woman.”
“…I…”
Shimoren’s restrained voice tried to escape past his lips, but he couldn’t form a sentence. He always lost words in front of Anette, because she was never wrong.
Anette, staring coldly at him as he struggled to speak, slowly removed her hand from his.
“If they must be punished, it’s my responsibility, not someone who shares the same opinion as me. So leave it be.”
“But the fact remains that they are mocking Lady Anette. And my duty is to punish such people.”
Even as Shimoren continued speaking, he couldn’t understand why he said such things. As Anette had said, he shared the same view as the maids laughing beyond the wall. He disliked Anette—and that feeling hadn’t changed.
If it had been just a few days ago, or even a few hours, Shimoren wouldn’t have felt so stifled. If he hadn’t met Anette smiling while showing him a shortcut, or if she had shown even a hint of anger at those words…
“I’m too tired to punish them all, Lord Lindel.”
…If he hadn’t seen Anette’s true face, which he had thought unknowable.
“You judged me by my black hair without a shred of doubt. Why wouldn’t they?”
“…I’m truly sorry for what happened then.”
“There’s no need to apologize. Everyone in the world would think the same.”
Saying this, Anette turned her head toward the setting sun. Time had passed during their conversation, and the sky was now red, the horizon dyed in sunset. Shimoren’s pale gray hair was bathed in crimson.
Yet Anette remained black.
Her color, all-consuming, resisted the sunset, unaffected.
Only one thing stood out: as she looked at the sinking sun, she seemed to long for something.
Before Shimoren, she was like waving reeds—a tall, elegant stand of riverbank grass.
Straight, yet flowing; strong, yet graceful.
Her voice, falling like dead leaves against the twilight backdrop, whispered:
“I’m really tired. I just want to go back.”
Her words, almost a mutter, were as quiet as water-soaked paper.
“Seeing you makes me feel it even more. You’re really a good brother. Mabel really likes you.”
I have a brother, too…
Muttering almost imperceptibly, Anette’s gaze shifted slightly. Shimoren could read the regret crossing her face, even if he couldn’t know her thoughts. It resembled envy—the sense of losing something one can never possess.
Although she didn’t speak much, it was enough for Shimoren to understand clearly.
The brother she spoke of meant only one person.
So René Martinec must have been involved.
If Anette had come here under René’s pressure, her actions made sense. What Shimoren had never understood was that Anette had no apparent motive for her behavior.
But René was the head of Operta. If he had ambitions, he could use his own kin. That was the most likely theory.
Of course, this is just my speculation…
Still, it needed confirmation. As the whispered voices beyond the wall had faded, Shimoren spoke after internal conflict.
“Lady Anette, I heard what you said to Noah.”
“What did I say?”
“That your goal was to suppress His Majesty’s madness.”
“Oh, yes.”
“I want to know… what that means.”
Despite the difficulty of speaking, Anette simply nodded.
“No need to overthink. I only want the moment when I become useless.”
“The moment you become useless…”
“When His Majesty’s madness is completely gone, my presence here will have no meaning.”
And then she could return.
“As you just saw, there’s no place here where I can breathe.”
If only there were somewhere I could rest even briefly… muttered Anette, appearing utterly exhausted, as if all the caution she had held until now had been in vain.
Now, in Shimoren’s eyes, Anette was like a doll—used for someone else’s ambitions, a substitute for someone dead, in a place where no one showed her favor.
Shimoren still didn’t entirely like her, but he already felt a mix of emotions: sympathy, guilt for his own mistakes, and even a trace of compassion.
Lady Anette, by the way… my brother. I didn’t realize we were the same age. Maybe that’s why we get along well. I thought he was cold, but he’s surprisingly cheerful.
Shimoren had been a good brother, a kind man—at least enough to not ignore the voice of his conscience.
After much hesitation, he spoke.
“…Three years ago, a place was sealed by imperial order. It hasn’t been opened since. There, you can spend some time.”
Before finishing his words, Shimoren tightly closed his eyes. Revealing this secret to Anette felt like a first-time transgression.
He didn’t notice the flash of blue in her normally black eyes at the news.
“Sealed? Thank you, but is it really okay for me to go there?”
“No one will look for you. For a single visit, it will be fine.”
“Really?”
A small smile tugged at Lowell’s lips.
“Thank you so much, Lord Lindel.”
Had Shimoren opened his eyes at that moment, he might have guessed the consequences of his decision.
But he didn’t—and he could never know he was being deceived by the woman before him.
Unaware, Shimoren watched as Lowell whispered with a smile:
“Now we have two secrets between us.”
It feels like we’ve grown much closer. Right?
