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Chapter 11
Rebecca hesitated.
Kanna’s hand, which had been brushing her hair, trembled.
“And none of this is Lady Rebecca’s fault. The Count doesn’t know the details of what happened last night. So the Count still doesn’t…”
Kanna’s brushing stopped. Rebecca had grabbed her hand.
Wounded blue eyes shot straight at Kanna.
“What is this? Did Zeppelin order you to win my favor like that? Don’t bother. You saw Alice’s end, didn’t you? You know well enough. Run away before it’s too late. If you value your life.”
Kanna stared blankly at the thin hand clutching hers.
Her hand was warm. Nothing had changed.
Kanna knelt before Rebecca. Then she pulled a handkerchief from her bosom.
“This is something I’ve cherished more than my own life.”
Rebecca accepted the handkerchief. It was embroidered with roses, clumsily stitched.
As she retraced her memories, Rebecca’s eyes widened.
“You are…?”
“Yes. That’s right. I am the girl you saved—the child who jumped in front of the carriage.”
Kanna’s eyes brimmed red with tears.
It had been a warm spring day.
But to little Kanna, it was a bitterly cold season.
Because of gambling debts, her father had sold her to a brothel. In the back alleys, it was nothing unusual.
She saw red wallpaper and half-naked women. The stench of heavy perfume and liquor made her dizzy.
“She’s too skinny!”
“Still, the dead girl’s mother was pretty. Give me a good price.”
“Tch. This is all you’ll get!”
“What did you say?”
While her father and the madam haggled, Kanna seized the moment and ran with all her strength.
Since childhood she had stolen just to keep from starving. She was used to fleeing.
Her father’s furious voice rang behind her.
She had no plan.
But if it meant escaping her only family’s hands, she would do anything.
Her lungs burned, but Kanna didn’t stop. Even when she stumbled, she forced herself up again.
At last, she burst from the alley into the wide main road.
A large carriage screeched to a halt with a deafening noise.
“You! Are you trying to die?”
The coachman shouted.
It was a perilous moment. The startled horse reared, hooves striking the air.
Fearing the whip, Kanna squeezed her eyes shut.
“Are you all right?”
But instead of a harsh crack, a gentle voice reached her. A voice so sweet and soft it brought tears to her eyes.
Kanna opened them slightly—and saw Rebecca, hand outstretched.
Blonde hair, dazzling as midsummer sunlight. Sapphire-like eyes looking right at her.
For an instant, Kanna thought an angel had descended.
“My name is Rebecca. My goodness, you’re hurt badly.”
“Kanna! Where is that brat!”
Her father’s voice cut through the crowd. Kanna shivered instinctively.
Rebecca frowned faintly and turned to look at the man.
Guessing the situation, Rebecca swiftly scooped Kanna up into her arms.
Kanna struggled in surprise. Blood streamed down her knees, staining Rebecca’s dress.
“M-my lady! Please don’t! Your dress—”
“You’re so light… Don’t worry. It’s only a dress. You are far more precious.”
Only a dress.
Kanna realized instinctively that Rebecca’s gown cost more than the price her father had sold her for.
Rebecca set her in the carriage and rapped on the wall.
“To the Liberta Relief House.”
The carriage rolled off smoothly—too smoothly to believe it was driven by the same coachman who had shouted earlier.
“Was that shouting man someone you know?”
Kanna thought a moment, then shook her head. She didn’t want anyone to know such a wretched man was her father.
Perhaps sensing her heart, Rebecca asked no more.
Instead, she pulled out a handkerchief and tied it around Kanna’s bleeding knee.
“I made this to gift someone else, but… it’ll do for now.”
Kanna didn’t know what to say. She just stared at the embroidered rose.
Rebecca gently wiped the tear streaks from her cheeks.
“We’re going to the Liberta Relief House. Everyone there is kind. That shouting man won’t be able to come near you.”
She stroked Kanna’s hair, telling her it was all right now, that she had suffered enough.
Kanna blinked her brown eyes, feeling like she was dreaming. Then, haltingly, she asked:
“Will you be there too, my lady?”
“I can visit sometimes. But… I cannot leave freely.”
Rebecca trailed off, lowering her gaze and clenching her fist.
Kanna thought she looked terribly lonely. Without thinking, she placed her hand on Rebecca’s arm—then pulled back in shock.
“I-I’m sorry! I forgot my place… my filthy hand—”
But Rebecca caught it again, stroking it gently.
“Anything dirty can be washed away.”
Kanna couldn’t look away from her warm, radiant smile.
The rustle of her deep green dress, the faint perfume, the sunlight streaming in the window, glinting off her golden hair.
And above all, the tender touch she had never once received before.
Even after entering the Liberta Relief House, Kanna never forgot that moment. No—she could not forget.
All the more so when she later learned that her benefactress lived miserably in the Count’s household.
Life’s trials came often, but the memory alone sustained her.
There are people who live their whole lives on a single memory. Kanna was one of them.
Kanna was crying freely now.
“Never, not once, have I forgotten you, Lady Rebecca. Even if you had forgotten me, it wouldn’t matter. As long as you can be happy, I can do anything.”
Rebecca was momentarily struck dumb, staring blankly at her tears.
The first thing she had done after becoming Countess was to found a relief house.
It hadn’t been for any grand reason.
She had always given alms on her outings, and eventually people began to gather. A place was needed to house them.
Zeppelin had gladly agreed to her request to build it—he seemed to enjoy the reputation of having a “saintly” wife.
Thus Liberta Relief House was created.
Its members were mostly powerless children, women, and the elderly.
No grown men who might tempt Rebecca were admitted.
On good days, Zeppelin permitted her visits there.
It became the only place where Rebecca’s heart truly belonged—until even that was eventually forbidden.
Zeppelin was stingy with donations, so the house was always short of funds. They would take any work that brought money.
Knowing this, Rebecca often felt guilty and secretly sold jewels to help them.
The Liberta members lived and struggled together, tightly knit like a clan.
If someone harmed one of them, the rest would band together to strike back. If not, they’d at least make sure a stone came flying their way.
Individually weak, together they were strong. More than family.
Rebecca didn’t know.
At the center of that bond, tying them together, stood herself.
Blood didn’t unite them—Rebecca did.
Each had a different story, but most had been helped by her.
Kanna was one of them.
“It was a cold winter. My father sold me to a brothel for gambling debt. I was only ten. I ran desperately, and I leapt before your carriage.”
The memory returned.
Rebecca looked down at the handkerchief Kanna had given her.
It had been soon after her marriage. She had made her first handkerchief as a gift for Zeppelin.
She had no talent for embroidery, but she had poured her heart into it.
Yet Zeppelin had mocked it.
‘Pathetic. Rebecca, it’s clear you don’t love me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t give me such worthless trash.’
She should have fled that very night.
But she hadn’t. She had loved him too much then.
She had still believed it was love.
That day, frustrated, she had gone to the relief house—and met a skinny little girl.
The child looked ready to collapse, yet her eyes still shone bright. Rebecca had taken her into the carriage.
Seeing her bleeding knees, Rebecca had tied the handkerchief—meant for Zeppelin—around them.
“I won’t ask you to trust me right away. But please, use me. If you tell me to kill Zeppelin, I will. If you tell me to break a concubine’s legs, I’ll do it. I want to be on your side.”
Kanna looked up at her with a determined face.
Rebecca’s heart thudded.
Was it really chance that Alice left and this girl appeared? Did she truly mean to be her ally?
Rebecca wanted to grab her hand right then and say yes.
She longed to trust. She longed for warmth.
But she could not afford to trust so easily.
Alice’s venomous final expression still haunted her.
Rebecca bit her lip and sank into thought.
At last, she rose and pulled Kanna up from her knees.
“You’re one of Zeppelin’s people now.”
“I came under the Count’s orders, yes—but only so I could stay close to you. I will never truly be his, even if it kills me.”
“No. You must become Zeppelin’s.”
“…What?”
“If you truly want to help me, earn Zeppelin’s trust. Be my eyes and ears—and, if need be, my feet. But first, you must prove your loyalty to me.”
“Just say the word.”
Rebecca paced the room. Her long hair, loosened from brushing, spilled over her shoulders.
Kanna gazed in rapture.
Rebecca toyed with a strand of hair, then suddenly lifted her head with an idea.
“Bring me Zeppelin’s hair. The messier you cut it, the better.”
“His… hair?”
Zeppelin, who so obsessively cherished his appearance, would never willingly part with his hair—least of all to trick Rebecca.
It was nearly impossible. If Kanna failed, Rebecca intended to press some trinkets into her hand and send her away.
