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Chapter 02
He already knew the answer. He simply wanted Lily to confirm it with her own lips.
Judging by her hesitation, she didn’t seem foolish enough to try a lie. Giles waited patiently for her reply.
There was no need to rush—time was on his side.
“From the very beginning… you knew everything, didn’t you?”
“Answer me. Is that truly your real name?”
“If I admit it, will you kill me?”
She sounded half-resigned. Lily’s eyes were fixed on the pistol hanging at Giles’s waist.
“That’s not for me to decide. The revolutionary leadership will give the order on how to deal with you.”
“I never thought this day would actually come.”
She muttered to herself. So gaunt and frail—one could hardly tell whether Giles was interrogating a noble or a wandering vagrant.
“I was never treated as a noble. I thought I’d live and die that way. Only now, at the very end, do people show me the same treatment they’d give to one of them. I suppose that’s better than starving to death alone.”
Her reaction struck Giles as strange. Every noble he had ever captured had raged and fought to keep their dignity, desperate to prove that their exalted blood made them different.
Of course, in the end, they all begged for mercy. But never once had someone surrendered so quietly, so readily, as Lily did.
“The maids who worked here told us a few things when we questioned them.”
“About me?”
“They said you could play the piano.”
“That’s true.”
“Then the piano in the next room—was it you who used to play it?”
“Only when guests were present. I mostly played a smaller one.”
“We also interrogated your family.”
Lily didn’t look particularly sad or surprised. Giles wasn’t surprised either. Just one minute of listening to them would have been enough to make it clear that Lily had never been happy here.
“They said your family tried to starve you to death. Is that true?”
“Yes. That’s true. As you can see, they failed.”
“…How long has it been since you had a proper meal?”
“What’s the point in telling you? I’ll be dead soon anyway.”
Only then did tears begin to stream down her cheeks. Giles watched her for a moment, then called out the names of his men.
Before long, the sound of boots echoed through the empty hall. Wübner, the closest of his men, appeared first.
The moment he saw Lily, he asked loudly:
“Who is this woman?”
With tear-soaked blue eyes, Lily turned to look at Giles.
Giles answered, still meeting her gaze.
“Just a stray. Found her hiding here.”
“What could she possibly want in a place like this? I searched it top to bottom—nothing but dust and dead rats.”
“Looks like she just needed somewhere to sleep. Wübner, do you have any food on you?”
“Food?”
He shrugged, then answered.
“I’ve got some oat bread.”
“Bring it here.”
“But that’s my lunch.”
“I’ll pay you back. Go buy something else. Look at her—can’t you see she’s starving?”
“Wouldn’t it be better to just put her in the car and take her with us?”
“Wübner. Bring it here.”
Wübner stopped arguing and left. Soon after, two more subordinates arrived. They asked the very same question Wübner had.
“Anything unusual?”
“No. The comrades cleaned the place out. Is this woman a vagrant?”
“You can see for yourselves. With no furniture left, she was sleeping inside an instrument case.”
“I see. Are you going to take her with us?”
“I tried to persuade her, but she wouldn’t listen. For now, leaving her here is best.”
“But if she stays, she’ll just starve again!”
“Are we supposed to drag off someone who refuses to go?”
“If necessary, yes, but…”
“She has nothing to do with our mission. Vagrants live their own lives. There’s no need to waste our energy.”
The men stopped objecting. Wandering vagrants were a common enough sight when traveling through various regions. Contrary to their assumptions, most of them had little interest in city life.
Their mission was to hunt down nobles, not rescue beggars.
“The inspection’s done. Return to the car and wait. I’ll be there soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Their footsteps receded, and once again, the space held only the two of them.
Giles handed Lily the oat bread Wübner had left behind. She hesitated briefly before snatching it from his hand and devouring it in haste.
With her dark hair disheveled, tearing at the bread like that, she looked every bit the vagrant. If someone claimed she had once been a noblewoman, no one would believe it without evidence.
Meanwhile, Giles felt a creeping sense of confusion.
Just now, he had saved Lily.
Though he knew exactly who she was, he had lied to his men, calling her nothing more than a beggar.
He—who had dragged countless Beldam nobles out by their hair, showing no exceptions. Men, women, even boys and girls not yet of age.
He had stared straight into their terror-stricken eyes.
There had never been room for pity or compassion. They were Beldam-born nobles, hated by Ipswyn, and destined to be erased from the land. Helping to accomplish that was his only duty.
And yet, here he was—lying to protect the youngest daughter of a surviving noble house, even taking food from his subordinate to feed her.
He couldn’t understand it himself.
Was it because of what she said under interrogation? Because he’d learned she was an abused, pitiful woman? Was that why he suddenly felt sympathy and no longer wished her dead?
He considered the thought. Lily certainly looked wretched—that was true. But she didn’t stir his heart in any particular way. She didn’t feel special to him.
Then why? It wasn’t too late—he could still drag her to the car and deliver her straight to prison.
But the urge wasn’t there. He didn’t want to.
It wasn’t that he wanted to save Lily… it was that the driving force that had always compelled him forward suddenly seemed to stop. The fuel was gone, like a steam engine run dry, leaving him motionless.
No personal feelings were involved.
Arresting Lily simply felt… meaningless.
She finished the bread quickly, practically in a single breath. It wasn’t much, but enough to ease her hunger a little. Her complexion seemed calmer.
His men had been right—today, she’d been lucky enough to eat. But tomorrow, she’d be starving again. There was no way she would last long.
A noblewoman raised in a mansion could never survive the brutal life of a vagrant.
Lily seemed to understand this herself.
“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?”
Giles had no answer.
Instead, he asked another question.
“Have you played the piano recently?”
She shook her head. A piano was useless for survival, so the revolutionaries had left it behind. Music and art were luxuries for those with full stomachs.
Then Lily spoke again.
“Would you like to hear me play?”
She steadied herself against the wall and rose. Her white dress, down to her calves, only half concealed her emaciated frame.
“You gave me food, so I can at least repay you with this. You also saved me… and besides, playing the piano is all I can do.”
Before Giles could respond, Lily was already moving to the room with the piano. Her steps were weak, ghostlike.
He followed her slowly. She sat on the bench, staring down at the keys. She brushed her fingers over them awkwardly, as though she hadn’t played in a long time.
Sunlight streamed through the window, washing over her figure. She no longer looked like the crouching shadow she had been in the dark. Dust floated in the air. Lily drew a deep breath, then her pale hands descended on the keys.
The once-empty, desolate space filled with sound. A solemn, slow melody gathered its voice. Only moments ago those hands had clutched a piece of bread for dear life—now they unleashed a cascade of tones.
The soft opening swelled into a lyrical flow. Gentle and beautiful, yet not simplistic. It was a nocturne—a piece that only someone with true training and artistry could command.
Standing nearby, Giles watched Lily play with skill far beyond what he expected. In an instant, the ruined mansion transformed into her concert hall.
She no longer looked like a vagrant. Nor did she look like the youngest daughter of Beldam’s nobility.
She was simply a pianist he had encountered by chance. A woman destined to die unnoticed, never to reveal her true gift—until she met him and breathed life back into both herself and her music.
The pianist he had saved.
Had he not found her, or had he decided to drag her away, her nocturne would never have been played—it would have been erased from the world forever.
Though he had acted on impulse, Giles now felt glad. Glad that Lily had survived.
After years surrounded by screams, cries, and bloodstains, his numbed, hardened heart suddenly revived with forgotten emotions.
For once, it felt like he had done something worthwhile. Lily—and the magic of her music—had survived. That alone was enough.
It was the first deed he had carried out, not under orders, but by his own will.
After a long, dark descent into the abyss, he had finally encountered a ray of light.
He had come to love Lily’s music.
