The Commander's Stain

Annette scanned the headline with dull, expressionless eyes and set the newspaper aside. Debating the fate of those who had prospered under the monarchy was a topic dragged out nearly every other day.

Most of the nobles’ assets had been confiscated. That was Heiner Valdemar’s doing. He had exposed every economic and military scandal and secret, scraping them down to the bone.

Yet the citizens still clamored for punishment and purging. A few nobles and military figures had fled abroad into exile, after all.

As the wife of the Commander-in-Chief, Annette had received countless letters of condemnation and threats. After the Republican Party proposed the Monarchy Liquidation Act, they only grew worse.

Staring blankly at the pile of letters on the table, Annette clamped a hand over her mouth. Her stomach churned madly. She felt as if she might vomit any second.

Gulping down cold water, Annette sprang to her feet and left the room. The air was too stifling and heavy to bear. She wanted to walk in the deserted rear garden, at least.

Annette crossed the mansion at a swift pace. The servants’ gazes that brushed against her felt like needles. It was commonplace for the staff to gossip about her.

As she passed through the first-floor corridor, she came face-to-face with an unwelcome visage.

"Lady Valdemar."

"...Major Markov."

It was Yugen Markov, Heiner’s loyal subordinate. He was also one of the many who despised Annette.

"It’s been a while. Are you at peace?"

Yugen asked with a smooth smile. It was a common greeting, and ordinarily one would reply that one was fine... but the intent behind those words was different.

It meant she ought not to be at peace.

"Same as always."

Annette replied with forced vanity. Muttering a soft “I’ll be going then,” she turned away. She had no desire to exchange more words with Yugen.

"A marriage proposal has come from Representative Gunter’s side."

The voice that followed halted her steps. It was an abrupt remark. Annette turned her head only slightly and offered a faint smile.

"...Congratulations."

"Not to me—to the Commander-in-Chief."

The smile on her lips froze as it was.

"The other party is Miss Annelie Engels, formerly of the militia. She was also a comrade who served alongside His Excellency the Commander in operations."

His tone was casual. Yugen always mocked her in that nonchalant voice. Annette clenched the sleeve of her dress tightly with one hand.

Republican Gunter Engels.

He was a major figure who had armed illegal labor unions to lead the revolution to victory and participated in establishing the provisional government. His wife and son had been killed by gunfire during a protest, and his daughter Annelie Engels had distinguished herself in the militia. Naturally, he still enjoyed great public support.

In every way, he stood in the opposite position from Annette.

"...And so?"

"‘And so,’ she says."

Yugen let out a short scoff.

"Are you still living in a flower garden?"

The rose of the flower garden. It was a pejorative nickname people used to mock her.

The moment she heard those words, her mind became terrifyingly calm. Annette looked at Yugen with an expressionless face. Yugen sneered.

"Madam is no longer the daughter of a man in power. You are nothing more than a remnant of the past that must be eradicated. You would know if you read even a few lines of the newspaper."

"..."

"The only reason you can still walk around with your head held high is purely by the mercy of His Excellency the Commander. You are his stain. Have you heard what people say about this marriage..."

"I demanded a divorce from my husband yesterday."

Annette cut off his words mid-sentence with a weary face. Yugen asked back a beat late.

"...Pardon?"

"I said I demanded a divorce. Heiner refused, though. It seems he wants to watch my misery up close."

Until yesterday she had found Heiner’s true intentions utterly inscrutable, but once she spoke it aloud, she thought she might understand a little.

"Because Heiner hates me. I realized that fact far too late. The Major hates me, the people hate me—why wouldn’t he?"

Annette’s calm voice echoed through the corridor. Yugen seemed not to have anticipated this situation at all; he looked flustered despite trying to hide it.

It made sense. Heiner Valdemar had been Annette’s last lifeline. Even if she divorced now, there was nowhere in the world that would take her in. Except perhaps Heiner—her wanting a divorce made no sense by any common logic.

"So I demanded a divorce. I’d be grateful if the Major would persuade my husband. It seems your wishes and mine align."

"..."

"Spread it in the newspapers or don’t—do as you please."

Annette smiled a clean smile.

The next day, an article about Representative Gunter proposing a marriage match to Heiner Valdemar appeared in large print on the front pages.

The combination of a Republican representative and the Commander-in-Chief. There was a clash of welcoming and concerned gazes, but it was a major issue either way. Two years prior, the two had fairly and cleanly resolved internal strife among the revolutionary leadership, so positive reactions held a slight edge.

Needless to say, Annette’s already nearly nonexistent standing narrowed even further. The hangers-on who had tried to curry favor with her just to connect to Heiner all turned away.

Heiner and Annette’s divorce became a foregone conclusion amid the circulating talk. And it was something the public rather welcomed.

People wanted her downfall. Yet as the Commander’s wife, there was a limit to how unhappy she could be. To Annette this place was hell, but from the outside it merely looked as if she was living a peaceful life with her eyes and ears closed. Looking only at the surface, it was somewhat true.

So of course she was cursed—Annette thought self-deprecatingly.

She lay on the bed gazing at the high ceiling moldings. Whenever she lay alone in this vast room, she felt as if she had become a corpse in a coffin.

Annette rolled over onto her side. Several newspapers she had been reading earlier lay scattered on the floor. One evening edition listed the prices of the dresses and jewels she had once owned one by one and condemned them.

"You would know if you read even a few lines of the newspaper."

Ah, the newspaper.

Annette had read the newspapers too. The problem was that she couldn’t finish them.

She closed her eyes, but the invading headache kept sleep at bay. What had begun as stress-induced migraines had become chronic over time. Days when she needed headache medicine or sleeping pills just to fall asleep had grown frequent.

Knock knock.

Suddenly a knock sounded. Annette lay as if dead, facing the wall. Presently the bedroom door opened soundlessly.

Watching the shaft of light that leaked in cast upon the wall, Annette held her breath. Footsteps thudded through the desolate room.

"Madam."

Heiner sat on the edge of the bed and called to her in a quiet voice.

"Annette."

Annette did not answer. Not because she didn’t want to, but simply because she had no energy. Her head hurt too.

Behind her, Heiner exhaled a low sigh.

"I know you’re not asleep. Just listen."

"..."

"I don’t know if you’re aware, but a marriage proposal has come from parliamentary circles. I had no intention of accepting it and planned to refuse quietly, but the article came out... In any case, there will be no reversal."

"..."

"If you were hoping for anything, drop it."

There was a brief pause as if he were choosing his words.

"About you leaving this place."

He acted as if he refused to utter the word “divorce.” As if speaking it would bring the sky crashing down.

"...People say so."

She could feel Heiner listening intently to her voice. Annette spoke softly while still lying on her side.

"That I should have fallen completely, but thanks to being the Commander’s wife I’m living well like this. Why doesn’t the Commander divorce that woman? No matter that she helped the Revolutionary Army... he was once a marquis’s subordinate and a corps commander, so of course he hasn’t shed those habits, they say."

"Those words are just—"

"That I’m your stain. That’s what people say."

Annette laboriously pushed herself up to sit. Her golden hair cascaded down her back along the line of her shoulders.

Annette turned her body and looked at Heiner. Up close, his gray eyes meeting hers appeared pitch-black, submerged in darkness. Eyes that knew no joy.

Once upon a time, Annette had loved her lover’s joy. She had loved the face that smiled back and the tender voice. But none of it had been real.

Heiner Valdemar had been a truly excellent spy.

"Do you still hold such a grudge against me that you’d go this far even at a loss?"

"Annette—where you would go and live well after leaving this place is something no one knows."

"Do you think I might have hidden assets somewhere I don’t know about?"

Annette laughed aloud. It was absurd that Heiner would say such a thing. Wasn’t he the man who knew everything in the world and enforced it all within his grasp?

"I have nothing, and nowhere to lean on. As you know."

"Have you forgotten that you contacted those who were your father’s close aides to dig into my past?"

"Those people are in prison—how could they help me? And I started digging into your past quite a while ago. In the meantime they’ve all been executed or transferred to the camps on the island. I can recite the names if you want."

"Your father had formidable connections. There’s no knowing where else those ties might reach. You must know that some who fled are living well in exile overseas."

"I promise I won’t leave the country. I won’t take anything from this house either. Just the divorce is enough."

"...Since you want it so badly, I find myself even less inclined to grant it."

Heiner spoke with a completely chilled face, having cast aside even the minimal pretense and facade.