ILIOTS 13

Chapter 13

Anyway, the only thing I could sense clearly was that I must never let them know I was near. I tried to figure out the situation. Were they intruders? But this was no ordinary place—it was the Bismarck Count’s estate.

In all the years that had passed, nothing like this had ever happened. Yet, no matter how much I listened, it was clear that they intended to threaten and pillage the family.

Could it be… that my imagination had actually come true? Had the enemy finally made it here? I covered my mouth with both hands. I couldn’t tell whether I was happy or horrified. At last, it had happened.

Bang, bang—the sound of gunfire was followed by a deafening crash that hit my ears, and then everything became certain.

We had lost the war.

The enemy had come!

But soon, I thought they might not be the enemy. The unfamiliar men were shouting in a language I knew. “Quiet! Don’t resist! Shut your mouth and follow! Get everything out of here!”

The noise was unbearable, so I covered my ears. I had never experienced such chaos and commotion. I had grown too accustomed to silence.

It took about half a day for the pounding in my head to subside. After the storm passed, only silence remained. When I could hear nothing at all, I cautiously pushed aside the floorboard above my head.

The screws had loosened from being trampled by so many feet. Using all my strength, I pushed the board aside and emerged.

The sunset had already begun. It had been so long since I had seen it in its entirety. I carefully rose and began inspecting the mansion. Walking freely like this had also been a long time.

I wandered through the rooms as if I were a visitor inspecting the house: the banquet hall, the reception room, the servants’ quarters, even the bathroom… not a single person remained. I soon realized I was the only one left in this vast mansion!

At that moment, I was so overjoyed I could hardly contain myself. I ran through the corridors, cackling like a witch from an old fairy tale. Had I ever been this happy in my life? I shouted with delight, reveling in my freedom. This mansion was mine!

Those who had tried to kill me were all gone. No one could punish me, no matter how loudly I laughed or how childishly I ran around.

I lay on the floor, staring at the slowly darkening sky above. The crimson sunset seemed to mirror my emotions.

I thought happy thoughts. I was free now. What should I do? Whether they were enemies or not, the intruders had emptied the mansion of its belongings in just a few hours. Unfortunately, my options were limited.

Then an idea struck me: the piano! Had they taken the piano? I ran to the music room. Fortunately, the piano had remained untouched.

Before it got completely dark, I sat at the grand piano and played freely. I chose only the liveliest, most cheerful pieces I knew. My lively, bouncing piano ballads filled the empty corners of the mansion.

Even the stars seemed to listen to my performance that night.

The next morning, after my excitement had subsided, I went back to the newspapers I had saved. Under the thin, entering light, I could finally see articles that had been unclear the previous night.

After spending several hours reading every page, I learned many facts.

We had indeed lost the war. Though it was called a world war, it seemed far larger than I had imagined. Our homeland, Beldam, was collapsing. And in the ensuing chaos, another fire was spreading.

A revolution. Seeing Beldam falter, the oppressed people of Ipswin had taken up guns and knives. From the looks of it, the people who had raided the mansion were probably revolutionaries. They would certainly despise nobles like my father.

What would happen to me then?

It seemed unlikely the revolutionaries didn’t know I existed. I was Eloise Bismarck, the Bismarck family’s young lady, and had met Duke Meyer officially. I was worried. They might return to the mansion looking for me.

Should I flee? But where? I could not travel far alone. My body was weakened from long-term hunger and abuse. I realized I would need to find a corpse to pretend was me.

I remembered a maid who had recently fallen ill and died. She had once confided something in me.

“Everyone thinks Maria died from illness, but I know the truth. She was murdered.”

“Murdered? By whom?”

“By the Countess herself. She beat Maria to death.”

The girl whispered softly.

“I know. Maria did something unforgivable to the lady. No one just beats a quiet person to death suddenly. It had to be her.”

“What? Did she steal silverware or something?”

“You idiot!”

It was a very small whisper, but I heard it clearly.

“She slept with the Count!”

The bastard. He hadn’t changed his ways and had done it again. Anyway, I learned that the Countess had indeed killed Maria and, to cover it up, fabricated the story that she died of disease.

Where, then, had the body gone? Surely no proper funeral had been held. To hold one, a priest would need to be called. Anyone with sight would immediately notice it wasn’t disease but murder. Would they take such a risk?

I cautiously went to the basement. There was a family crypt for the Bismarck ancestors—a tradition maintained by high-ranking Beldam nobles.

As expected, the corpse that could not be properly buried was there. I gagged but desperately dragged the corpse upstairs.

I had survived this long; I would not die by a revolutionary’s bullet. Better to carry a rotten corpse than to be killed.

As I had predicted, the soldiers, realizing my absence from their list, returned to the mansion. They discovered the corpse I had hidden and left with it.

Now it seemed everything was truly over. I worried about what to eat and how to survive, but at least I no longer feared encountering the revolutionaries again.

…Or so I thought.

I was trying to sleep. It might look like I was weak, but conserving energy was the best strategy. I decided to curl up until I found a proper plan.

I was annoyed I couldn’t use a proper bed because of the revolutionaries and squeezed into my instrument case to lie down. Surprisingly, it was cozy inside, and the lining was soft.

Then, I heard the sound of the music room door opening.

Click. The doorknob turned. I opened my eyes. Someone was there. Who? Heavy, slow footsteps echoed across the floor. The intruder pressed the piano keys haphazardly, producing a grim, dissonant sound.

It was too late to run. There was no way out. I didn’t need to see him directly to know he was a revolutionary. Otherwise, who else would come here? Surely, they had discovered my corpse ruse.

He had come for me.

Creak. The hinge squealed. I gave up and closed my eyes. The footsteps grew closer and stopped in front of me.

The rustle of clothing accompanied the opening of the case. A young man in uniform crouched down and looked at me.

He had short, neatly combed black hair. I met his pitch-black eyes, which betrayed no emotion.

After surveying me with his gaze, he asked in a cold voice:

“Who are you?”

I couldn’t answer right away. I was terrified. The sounds of screams from the recent raid still rang in my ears. He could easily do the same to me.

When I didn’t answer, he pressed further.

“What’s your name?”

What should I do? If I frustrated him, my life could be in danger. I had to say something. I couldn’t tell the truth, and there was no time to think.

“Lily,” I blurted out.

Damn. It was a terrible fake name.

“What were you doing here?”

Before I could even think of a suitable lie, he asked another question.

“Did you live here?”

I realized one fact: he didn’t know I was Eloise Bismarck. Perhaps he hadn’t come to capture me after all.

Clinging to this faint hope, I began to say whatever came to mind.