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Chapter 9
There was a reason Giles’ followers hadn’t been his own men. The leadership wanted no room for personal feelings to interfere. They wanted reports on Giles from the perspective of strict outsiders.
In reality, that operation had not been for the fugitives—it had been for Giles. It was a simulation to determine whether he was truly worth keeping alive.
“All the reports seem to have reached me, since word has gotten back even here. The problem is, the agents who went to observe you…”
Harrington pressed his voice with strength, carefully avoiding the word surveil.
“…they saw you less as a loyal officer of the Revolutionary Army and more as a Beldame man with landowner blood. The reports themselves were objective, but their tone was not favorable toward you. And the small fact that you did not fire your gun—that became a very convenient pretext.”
In short, Giles was under suspicion. Their doubts were understandable, for Giles had indeed failed to kill Celeste himself. That had been suicide. Their suspicion was not only reasonable—it was the truth.
Within the Revolutionary Army, many disliked Giles. He was a Beldame they had been unable to kill. That fact unsettled them. This cruel operation had been devised for that very reason: to reconsider whether they might simply eliminate the source of their discomfort…
…and the result rested entirely with Giles.
“A hearing will be held soon, Giles.”
Harrington had arranged this meeting as a warning. The revolution was nearing its conclusion, Ipswin’s struggle was at its end—but for Giles, many trials still remained.
His bloodline would cling to him like a label until death. For the rest of his life, he might be plagued by suspicion, forced to endure questions, endlessly pressed to prove his innocence.
“They’ll base their questioning on those reports. Answer carefully, Giles. Convince them with the truth as it is. I believe you have the ability to earn their trust. I repeat: I don’t want to lose you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Giles. The revolution is drawing to a close. That means you can no longer prove loyalty just by arresting aristocrats. You must show something more, or you won’t survive. Even the most faithful hunting dog becomes unwanted once the master no longer hunts.”
“Do you believe they’ll give me that chance?”
“If only you prove your worth.”
Would they? In truth, Giles’ name was already fated for the execution list. In a place full of men eager to seize upon any minor fault as grounds to destroy him, could he survive?
Fatigue weighed upon him. Of course, Giles wanted to live. Yet since Celeste’s death, the foundations of his will had crumbled—even his obsession with survival.
And what good would tomorrow’s borrowed life be?
As if reading his thoughts, Harrington spoke:
“You, too, must have a reason to live. Everyone does. Hold on to that one thing. Nothing else.”
Dinner was served. A waiter placed a plate before Giles. He silently took up the knife and cut the meat. Red juices bled into the white porcelain.
He had no choice but to close his eyes.
Harrington had not lied. Giles soon realized the Revolutionary leadership truly was preparing a hearing for him.
He felt countless eyes upon him from all directions. His soldier’s instincts told him so, even without direct eye contact. Surely they were guarding against the possibility that he might flee before the hearing.
This was no time to visit the abandoned manor where Lily stayed. Shadows tailed him constantly. If he was careless, Lily could be dragged into danger as well.
So Giles stayed away from the Solzburg estate for a while. It troubled him, but Lily had survived before he ever helped her—she was resilient. He decided to trust her.
The hearing, he thought, would be held within days. But days stretched into weeks.
At night, Giles thought of Lily. When sleep would not come, he played piano records on the phonograph. And he asked himself: When did I fall in love with Lily Belmore?
At first, it had been only her music. He loved the beauty of the sound he had saved, and even more the fact that he had chosen not to kill her. That choice itself made him strangely glad.
But gradually, his feelings shifted from the music to Lily herself. When her body filled out, when color returned to her cheeks, he felt relieved. When she smiled, he smiled with her. He wanted her to grow healthy, to keep on living.
It was only after his world was stripped bare that he began to want more. The values he had believed in, the things he thought he would surely uphold, the confidence of right decisions, the hope of the future—he lost them all in an instant.
And just as the Solzburg estate had been looted and left hollow, the one person left in the ruins of his world was Lily. At first she occupied just a corner of his heart, but she grew, until he could think of nothing else.
Giles was a murderer. He had gunned down countless people under the pretext of Revolutionary orders.
Years of such life had filled his head with blood and screams. Even if he survived, he would likely spend the rest of his days haunted by those voices, tormented by nightmares.
Only Lily let him forget.
Not loving her was impossible.
She was all he had left.
So then… what decision should I make?
“Answer carefully.”
At the hearing, he would have to face the council and tell them the truth.
The truth was that he had not killed his sister, Celeste Hessen. She had taken her own life. Giles had failed his mission. He had not made the decision for the Revolution. He had put himself and what he cherished above the cause. That was the truth.
And Giles had to speak it. That was the path without sin. He had already failed to save his sister, already failed to watch over her despite promising to protect her. And even the will to live, which had once driven him, was fading.
…Fading?
On the day of the hearing, Giles stood before the Revolutionary leadership, ready to speak the truth. Many eyes fixed on him. Though he wore their uniform, he still seemed apart, an outsider.
Countless gazes demanded the truth from him.
And he, too, intended to tell it.
No more lies. It ends here. It always should have ended here…
The chairman’s voice rang through the chamber.
“Captain Giles Hessen, are you aware there are conflicting opinions regarding the outcome of the Mainhebach operation you commanded?”
“I am aware.”
“State your account.”
On his right, General Harrington was watching.
You must also have a reason to live.
Speak the truth.
Choose—peaceful death, or survival in torment.
Giles straightened his shoulders and met the chairman’s gaze.
And he spoke “the truth.”
“I killed Celeste Hessen myself.”
The murmurs ceased.
“That is the truth.”
By now, fallen leaves blanketed the entire Solzburg estate. The trees had gone to sleep, awaiting spring. A desolate season was coming. The wind herded the leaves into nowhere, until soon they, too, would vanish.
Lily could not endure long in the manor. With broken windows letting in drafts, the cold would seize the halls. No one could go on sleeping curled in an instrument case.
He had to bring her into the city. It would be better for her. Her identity could be arranged—many Ipswin folk had never had proper birth records. Lily could pass as one of them.
With a few strings pulled, she could shed her dangerous past entirely.
Giles stepped out of the car and looked up at the manor. Though large, there was only one place Lily could be. She always chose the instrument storage.
He walked up the familiar steps, turned the familiar corner, crossed the familiar halls. Through a crack in the door, he glimpsed the abandoned piano.
“Lily?”
No answer. Was she asleep? He slowly opened the door to the storage room.
But no one was there.
Nothing remained. As though no one had ever stayed, only dry dust filled the emptiness.
Giles’ mind went white.
“Lily!” he cried.
But no voice answered.
