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Chapter 38
Recently, the atmosphere in Hasmal had grown somewhat brighter. Although only some of those responsible had been caught, the main culprit behind Hermann Miller’s assassination had finally been apprehended. More importantly, the long-vacant position of Chief Superintendent had been filled. Most people responded positively, encouraged by the prospect that the unstable public security situation would finally return to normal.
The new Chief Superintendent was a complete stranger to the public. According to the media, he was a man who had remained loyal to Hasmal for many years and had faithfully served as a superintendent. Yet, in reality, not a single citizen knew his name.
The complete lack of information about him only made people more curious. Part of the fascination stemmed from the fact that he was the youngest Chief Superintendent in history, and part of it came from his exceptionally handsome appearance.
As articles about him poured in day after day, people developed different opinions while waiting for his inauguration. Some were curious, others hopeful, and still others uneasy. Everyone assumed that, given the public’s intense interest, his inauguration ceremony would be a grand affair.
However, events unfolded quite differently from what anyone had expected.
The long-awaited inauguration turned out to be remarkably modest. It was not even open to the press. There were no distinguished guests, nor were there any congratulatory speeches. A few Stifts executives gathered, and the ceremony consisted of nothing more than a brief declaration being read aloud. He even skipped the customary bureaucratic reception usually held after an inauguration.
As a result, the Chief Superintendent remained a mysterious figure to the public both before and after taking office. The less he appeared before the public, the more rumors spread about him. Eventually, the rumors reached not only Hasmal but also its neighboring countries.
The news spread particularly widely in Glissen, which had recently been keeping a close watch on the political situation in Hasmal. It even reached the village of Tarak, in the far north.
“Did you say his name was Zekart? The new Chief Superintendent of Hasmal’s Stifts?”
“That’s right. I heard he was promoted directly from superintendent.”
“You’d think someone talented enough to become a superintendent would have made a name for himself by now. He’s quite a mysterious figure.”
“Still, it seems he has a good reputation in Hasmal. Apparently, he got straight to work as soon as the inauguration was over. Rumor has it that he’s serious about crushing the resistance. He hasn’t even been in office for a few days, and he’s already arrested dozens of members of the Berg Resistance.”
“Well, I suppose that’s how he managed to rise to the position of Chief Superintendent at such a young age. The people of Berg are the ones who’ll suffer. At this rate, the resistance might finally be wiped out for good.”
Mrs. Koch, who ran a small bakery in Tarak, was chatting with her employee, Lena, when she noticed a young man standing motionless.
He wore a beret pulled low over his forehead and had been standing in front of the display counter for quite some time, despite having entered the shop a while ago.
“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”
The young man, who was wearing a thick jacket, startled at the sound of her voice.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s quite all right.”
“Take your time looking around. Everything was baked fresh today.”
After observing the man for a little longer, Mrs. Koch finally turned her attention elsewhere.
Lena soon resumed their conversation. Once again, the topic was Hasmal’s new Chief Superintendent. Indeed, for the past several days, he had occupied nearly all of Lena’s attention. She knew very little about international affairs, but she was intensely interested in him because his appearance came remarkably close to her ideal type.
“Have you seen the photo in the latest article? He’s unbelievably handsome!”
Watching Lena, who looked as though hearts might burst from her eyes at any moment, Mrs. Koch shook her head.
No wonder she still hasn’t found herself a husband.
“Could you ring this up, please?”
At last, the young man approached the counter with a loaf of bread in his hand. After much deliberation, he had chosen a loaf made with rye.
“Would you like me to slice it for you?”
“Yes, please.”
“Lena! Could you give me a hand with this?”
While Lena began wrapping the bread, Mrs. Koch kept glancing at the young man’s face.
“You’re the one who recently moved into that house along the forest path, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
The young man answered briefly, fidgeting with the brim of his beret. He seemed uncomfortable with the attention, but Mrs. Koch persisted. It had been several decades since an outsider had last settled in their village.
“I heard there are three people in your family. Is that right?”
“…Yes.”
“Oh my! Are you really all family? I thought your arrangements were rather unusual, so I wondered what your relationship was.”
“…”
“Is the child yours? And that middle-aged woman who came with you…”
“Will the bread take much longer to wrap?”
The young man interrupted her with a stiff expression. His discomfort was unmistakable.
Only then did Mrs. Koch reluctantly take a step back. Fortunately, Lena had finished wrapping the bread just then.
“Hoho, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was just thinking you’d make a lovely couple with my Lena.”
“Auntie Koch!”
At Lena’s shout, Mrs. Koch gave an awkward laugh and hurried off toward the kitchen as though making her escape.
“I’m sorry. Auntie Koch is a good person, but sometimes she just can’t help sticking her nose into other people’s business.”
“It’s all right.”
“Here’s your change.”
The young man bowed his head with an awkward smile. Both his manner of speaking and his appearance gave him an impression of neatness and refinement.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Chime!
The bell above the door rang as the man left the bakery.
At the sound of the front door opening, Mrs. Marie rose from her seat.
“Are you back?”
A moment later, Ferel entered the living room, carrying the scent of fresh bread and a faint trace of winter air with him. Looking at the tip of his reddened nose, Mrs. Marie guessed how cold it must be outside.
“Here. The bread you asked for.”
“Thank you.”
“Where’s Leon?”
“Upstairs. He finally managed to fall asleep.”
“I see.”
The conversation abruptly came to an end. A sigh—though neither of them knew whose it was—filled the silence.
Ever since they had moved here, the two of them had often found themselves in such situations. Even while going about their daily lives and exchanging ordinary words, they could never quite shake off the deep anxiety that lay beneath everything.
“Has there been any news of Lady Edith—”
“Edith…”
Their voices overlapped for a moment. The name they had spoken together hurt too much, and both bit their lips without waiting for the other to speak first.
Ferel closed his eyes with a sigh. Even now, whenever he closed them, the events of that day rose vividly in his mind: the living room and basement left in shambles, Leon hiding alone in the basement, and Edith, who was nowhere to be found.
Ferel was consumed by guilt. It was a tragedy he might have prevented if only he had acted a little sooner.
No. I shouldn’t have dragged her into this in the first place.
“Is there still no news of Lady Edith?”
The voice that reached him was choked with sobs.
Ferel remained silent. When Mrs. Marie realized that his silence meant the answer was no, her sobs grew more pronounced.
Unfortunately, they had been unable to obtain any information about Edith at all. Since she had been identified as one of the masterminds, security surrounding her was undoubtedly tight.
The one small consolation was that Shasha and Charon, whose trial dates had been set, were now permitted to receive visitors. Through the Glissen lawyer handling their defense, they had at least been able to hear indirectly about Edith’s circumstances.
“She’s being held in solitary confinement, and she’s not allowed any outside activities whatsoever. Even Shasha, who’s being held in the same prison, says she hasn’t seen Edith even once.”
“Please, find a way. Ferel. If something happens to Lady Edith, what will become of Leon? That poor child…”
Since that day, Leon had grown much quieter. He would wake up several times during the night, crying out for his mother, and his tears had become frequent.
He no longer threw tantrums or screamed in frustration. Instead, he would sob quietly, tears rolling down his cheeks in thick droplets.
Even a child could instinctively sense it. This separation was not like the previous ones, when there had always been a set time for them to be reunited.
“His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Bariel, will make his move this week. He’s said he’ll bring the negotiations with Glissen to a conclusion, even if it means accepting unreasonable terms.”
“And what if the negotiations collapse?”
“I don’t believe they will. But if Glissen ultimately hesitates to confront Hasmal, we intend to leak information to Hasmal that Glissen was behind the recent terrorist attack on the city hall. Glissen won’t be able to avoid war.”
In truth, this had been Edith’s suggestion.
‘If a fight won’t break out on its own, then we have to make one happen.’
Back when Charon and Shasha had been arrested—
“What if even Hasmal remains silent? Hasmal won’t want a war with Glissen either, will it? What if they pretend not to know anything and keep quiet?”
Mrs. Marie asked, her voice filled with unease.
Ferel’s usually composed gaze turned fierce in an instant.
“Then we’ll have to storm the prison.”
Of course, he knew there would be tremendous casualties. The damage might even be irreparable.
But he was prepared to accept all of it if that was what it took to save Edith.
The room was instantly engulfed in a solemn silence.
Mrs. Marie pressed her trembling lips together, struggling to control her emotions, while Ferel sank into thought.
Then, from upstairs, a faint cry drifted down.
“Waaah!”
It was the cry of a child who had lost his mother.
