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LOS 14
The soldier listened to me in silence. It was difficult to read his eyes. I couldn't tell if he knew I was lying and was simply pretending not to, or if he actually believed me; the uncertainty made me feel as if I might faint.
Then, he made a chilling suggestion.
“I will take you to where the food is.”
Startled, I shouted without a second thought.
“No!”
The soldier frowned slightly. Was he angry? Terrified, I couldn't hide my emotions properly, and I was making the situation worse.
“I can't go outside. Please.”
“There is nothing left here. Everything has been seized for the revolution. You have no reason to stay here any longer.”
“How do I know who you people are to follow you? You might sell me off somewhere else.”
“I can show you my identification if you wish.”
“Even so, I don't want to go outside.”
Losing my composure was a more fatal problem than I had imagined. I couldn't think straight. Before I could even process my thoughts, all sorts of excuses poured out of me. I needed to deceive him calmly, but everything was ruined. I could feel him doubting me.
He looked straight at me, as if trying to pierce through to the truth in my head. After a moment of thought, he lowered his voice.
“I will ask one thing. Are you Eloise Bismarck?”
The moment the name I least wanted to hear flowed from his lips, I knew instinctively that my life was over.
It was useless to answer, “No, I don't know such a person,” at this point. He wasn't asking because he was genuinely curious if I was Eloise.
“......You knew from the beginning, didn't you?”
He stood before me like an impregnable fortress. I couldn't see a single loophole to escape through. Feeling a long-accumulated fatigue wash over me, I finally resigned myself.
My gaze drifted to the pistol hanging from his waist. Yes, I thought that if he were to kill me, it would be better if he did it cleanly with that gun. There was nothing left for me to do. I could only hope that he was a different kind of person than Count Bismar.
Having obtained the truth he desired, the soldier asked useless questions. That I knew how to play the piano. Whether the piano in the next room was one I used to play. Whether it was true that my family had tried to starve me to death.
I began to feel angry at him. Why was he talking so much if he was going to kill me anyway? Was he playing with me? Deciding there was no longer any need to stay in his good graces, I snapped back.
“What’s the point of talking? I’m going to die anyway.”
The soldier simply stared at me with that handsome face. I felt upset, as if I were a mouse caught in a trap, being observed by him. More than anything, it felt unfair. I had fought so stubbornly to survive, only to die like this. It was maddeningly unfair.
Sure enough, the soldier called his subordinates. I braced myself to be dragged out by them.
However, to my surprise, he lied about my identity.
“She is just a vagrant woman. I found her hiding in this house.”
I was confused. What? Isn't this man a member of the revolutionary army? Why is he lying to his comrades? I am Eloise Bismarck. Unable to fathom his ulterior motive, I kept my mouth shut.
The soldier even handed me some food. That was the day I first realized that bread could smell so fragrant.
Regardless, an opportunity had presented itself. One was the chance to fill my stomach, and the other was the chance to think while eating the bread. I chewed the oat bread, my mind racing.
The soldier lied about my identity. That was practically the same as deciding to spare my life. Why does he want to save me? Perhaps I had garnered his sympathy. After all, I looked so wretched and pitiful that it was hard to believe I was a noble.
Whether it was sympathy or something else, I had succeeded in swaying his heart. I couldn't let this opportunity slip away. To survive, I had to get on his good side. I had to show him that I was a person worth saving.
I was very accustomed to situations like this.
“Have you played the piano recently?”
He asked. Ah, right. The piano. I had the piano. I knew that I had a talent for playing. It would become my shield and my weapon.
I must make sure he doesn't regret the decision to save me.
Although he didn't ask me to play, I stood up first. My body, which had felt as if it would collapse and lose consciousness, regained its vitality. There was no time to waste. I had to survive.
I felt the soldier following behind me. Every hair on my body stood on end, reacting to his every move. Stay calm, Eloise. You used to play the piano well. Just do what you've always done. Just make him completely fooled by your playing.
Once I actually sat before the piano, it suddenly occurred to me that a considerable amount of time had passed since I last played. I decided to trust myself. Then, I placed both hands upon the keys.
While playing, I tried to focus solely on the music. I listened to my own performance, trying my best to forget the soldier's presence. A concert hall unfolded in my mind. An audience was listening to my playing in the darkness. My heart felt much more at ease.
My playing gradually regained its own breath.
The soldier waited in silence until I finished. Without making a sound, he simply sank into the stillness. Because of that, I was able to concentrate even more on my performance.
The music, which had reached its climax, subsided low once more, and finally, I pressed the last key. Without realizing it, I was sweating. Was he still listening? I turned my head.
The soldier was standing in the same spot, looking at me with a thoughtful expression. Since he didn't look like he wanted to kill me, I felt a momentary sense of relief.
“Did they teach you the piano?”
He asked. For some reason, I thought his voice sounded a bit strange.
“Yes.”
“Unbelievable.”
The soldier muttered to himself. He looked at my gaunt body and the scars barely covered by my chemise. He let out a sigh, and after a moment of silence with his eyes closed, he strode toward me.
The soldier reached out toward me. I flinched, expecting him to grab my arm and drag me away. However, instead of pulling me, he extended his hand. Even though I couldn't grasp his intention, I offered my right hand. It was a habit formed from my time living as a noble.
I thought he might mock me. That I looked like a vagrant yet wanted to be treated like a lady. But the soldier did not do that. On the contrary, he treated me truly like a lady.
The soldier bowed and kissed the back of my hand. Then, he met my eyes from a very close distance.
I could now discover favor within his pupils. My playing had worked. It was certainly something to be happy about, but my body was trembling regardless of my will.
Without saying a word, the soldier turned and left the room. I heard the door close. The sound of his footsteps grew distant and eventually faded away.
I had survived.
It was certainly a happy thing, but...
I burst into tears. I sat at the piano and sobbed aloud. The emotions I had suppressed for fear of offending him finally erupted. I hurriedly wiped away the tears, but once the sobbing started, it would not easily stop.
I had been so scared. From the moment he asked my name, stared at me in silence, listened to my playing, and kissed the back of my hand...
Every moment spent with him was terror to me. I was the daughter of a captured noble, and he was a soldier. Moreover, he carried a gun.
The relief of surviving broke me in an instant. I had not been afraid of Johann Meier, nor had I ever feared my father. But he was different.
Because he could have killed me at any moment.
Even though he could have killed me right then and there, he didn't, and instead showed me mercy.
My life had been dangling by a thread from his fingertips.
It's okay. It's okay, Eloise. He liked you. You survived, and that's all that matters. Don't think about anything else.
I repeated this to myself as I wiped my tears.
And I hoped that I would never have to meet him again.
Not long after, the soldier visited me again. This time, I thought he had changed his mind. However, contrary to my expectations, he took a sandwich out of his bag and handed it to me.
Even as I took the sandwich, I wondered what on earth this man was thinking. Did he have some objective? I suspected the soldier had a dark motive. There is no such thing as kindness without a reason in this world. My father had taught me that fact personally. The damn Johann Meier was the same.
The soldier simply watched me as I ate the food he had given me, as if he had never seen someone eat a sandwich before. For someone with a dark motive, his gaze was too plain and dry. Still, I did not trust the soldier hastily.
The more he tried to be kind to me, the more my distrust grew. The reasonless kindness made me even more afraid. What was he planning to do later that required him to lay such groundwork now?
Regardless, I diligently accepted and ate the food he gave me. Whatever his intention, I had to build up my strength.
Like a foolish child, I repeatedly said thank you. Acting as a kind and pitiful woman was my specialty. I intentionally put on a dim-witted smile in front of him and nodded unconditionally to everything he said.
Whatever his scheme was, he had a favorable impression of me, and most people accepted it as truth when I acted foolish.
I had to make sure he continued to like me.
He was still an object of fear to me, and I was in a position where I had to cling to the kindness he bestowed as if it were an act of charity.
The visits from the revolutionary army officer, Giles Hessen, continued in that manner.
I gradually began to wonder if the sinister plan in this man's head was perhaps just to fatten me up. He really did nothing but bring me food. And then he would watch me eat it.
Did he have a hobby of doing charity? I knew there were people who became narcissistic by giving to the pitiful. Was Giles that kind of person? Or did I look funny while eating? I was hungry, and honestly, it was true that I devoured the food greedily.
Furthermore, he stared at me as if something terrible would happen if I didn't find the food delicious. I wonder if he knows that I almost choked on my food several times because of that?
Giles's visits had now become a predictable occurrence. I hoped I would never have to see that terrible military uniform again, but he steadfastly came to find me. Every time, I pretended to be glad to see him.
It was the same on that day.
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