My Beloved Oppressor

Annette entered a room at the far end of the first floor of the government residence. She turned on several incandescent lights hanging on the walls, and the inside was revealed.

In the middle of the room was something large covered with a white cloth. She grabbed the piece of cloth and hesitated for a moment before slowly removing it.

A smooth black surface appeared. It was the piano she had used since her maiden days. She had moved from the Rosenberg residence to the Valdemar residence when she got married, and then to the official residence when Heiner became commander-in-chief.

Annette sat down on a chair and opened the lid of the piano. The keys were clean and not faded. However, it had not been tuned for a while, so it was difficult to expect a beautiful sound.

She stared at the keys. She could still be sure what sound she would hear if she pressed the right spot on the keyboard.

‘It’s all useless now, though.’

After her father’s death, of course, she could not enter competitions. Everything Annette had accomplished in her career crumbled. She was labeled as something achieved by using her power, connections, and money.

It was then that she could no longer play the piano. She couldn’t even press the keys, let alone play.

At first she made many efforts to try to play it again, but they all ended in failure. After that, she gave up on the piano altogether.

She forgot about it and lived with it. She tried hard to do so.

‘I thought it would get better with time……..’

The keys reflected in the not-so-illuminated incandescent lights turned the surface pale. When she touched them, her fingertips froze and seemed to shatter into pieces.

Dawn was breaking. Annette, who had been sitting in front of the piano for some time, suddenly realized. 

There was really nothing left for her.

***

“The main armament was a .30-caliber bolt-action rifle with a five-round magazine. It certainly appears to have a higher degree of closure and less chance of being inoperable.”

“This is about as close as you can get without using a semi-automatic gun machine. And here, the heat of the gun falls off the barrel and to the maximum extent possible.”

“I see.”

Nodding, Heiner wrapped the gun model in a cloth again. In the case of the Chief Sniper, he was the one to review and approve the model himself.

“It’s past work time. Let’s call it a day. Good work.”

“Yes!”

Brigadier General Fritz and Major Eugen raised their hands in salute, and left the commander in chief’s offices.

Heiner examined the documents concerning the purchase of fighter planes, stamped his seal, then looked at France’s diplomatic situation report.

“Breakdown of Weapons Purchases……..”

Heiner’s brow narrowed as he checked France’s munitions form.

Rutland had long ago become independent from France, but there were still many French people living on the land. They were the pro-France who wanted to merge with France again. The motive for war was sufficient.

Rutland’s internal politics were in disarray due to frequent military coups. If this civil war spread to a diplomatic issue between the major powers, a major war could break out.

Heiner’s age and sense kept the defense treaty amicable, but this was not a definitive answer.

It was a time when most countries were tending toward nationalism. A war that would take place at a time like this would surely bring about a frenzy of volunteer enlistments. It would involve countless sacrifices.

Heiner knew well what after-effects war would leave in its wake. He did, and so did his peers. Anyone would surely suffer any kind of shock, in whatever form….

“……I want to go home.”

The thoughts suddenly stopped in one place.

Heiner looked somewhat irritated and let go of the hand that had been touching his forehead. Why was he thinking of that woman here? He rubbed his eyes once, then looked down at the papers again.

But the print only broke down into disjointed spellings beyond the realm of comprehension.

He struggled to expel the messy thoughts, but it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. It was always this way when he thought about her. Heiner  looked away from the papers, displeased.

A series of scenes replayed in his head.

The way she looked at him as if asking for help, her thin, trembling body in front of the piano, the strangled face as she ran out of the banquet hall, the back of her as she sat and vomited…

The behavior Annette displayed at that moment seemed like the manifestation of a trauma.

“Ha.”

Heiner couldn’t help but laugh.

Trauma? How could a woman who hadn’t shown a single tear in the last three years be traumatized?

“When I was a little girl, I used to cry a lot for different reasons.”

When the woman cried about her lack of improvement in piano skills, Heiner was in training camp undergoing rigorous training under verbal abuse and beatings.

While the woman was partying elegantly in her fancy, peaceful mansion, he was killing and torturing people under the guise of an operation.

How could such a woman be traumatized?

The papers in Heiner’s hands were slightly crumpled. He gritted his teeth and tossed the papers carelessly. The papers fell with a fluttering sound.

“I’m divorcing you, Heiner.”

The woman was so upset about one piano, yet she was talking about divorce with a nonchalant look on her face. It didn’t make any sense.

“Do you still have any use left for me?”

Use? It was useless. But the time for discussing usefulness in the first place was already long past.

Heiner also knew that his choice was irrational. But he could not just let her go peacefully.

What had he endured himself to get that woman?

“It must have been hard to pretend to love the enemy’s daughter.”

“Damn it….”

Heiner rubbed his face with one hand.

The clumsy unrequited love of his childhood, when he was young and lonely, was just a past he wanted to erase.

***

The butler passed the word to Heiner when he returned to the official residence. His expression hardened as he listened to the report. Heiner went to Annette’s bedroom without changing his clothes.

After the opening banquet at the Belen Hotel, Annette hid herself in her room. She had never been out much, but this time was severe.

According to the butler, she even refused to eat. It wasn’t something Heiner cared much about, but he was curious if it was a sign of rebellion.

His hand stopped for a moment as he was about to open the bedroom door. Heiner tightened his grip and then rapped twice on the door.

Heiner’s hand was still clenched, for the noble lady would have despised his ungentlemanly manner.

‘It’s funny, I’ve already set aside all of that woman’s planting.’

Heiner opened the door with a self-deprecating smile. Inside, Annette was sitting and embroidering. She still looked uncomfortably isolated.

Annette did not look at him. Her eyes were downcast and her mouth was closed, and her profile was flawless as if measured with a ruler.

Unlike the perfect still-life landscape, there were medicine bags lying on one of the small tables. Displeasure flashed in Heiner’s eyes.

“Have you been embroidering in your room all day? And skip meals?”

He said, hiding his irritation under a cold tone.

“Are you protesting?”

“No, I’m not, don’t worry about it.”

“How many pills are there?”

Heiner mumbled as he strode up to a small table. All the translucent papers lying on top were empty. He opened the drawer under the side table.

Annette, who was threading colored thread through the fabric, looked up quickly.

“Why do you open it without permission?”

“Did you hide classified documents in here?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then is there a problem with me looking?”

Annette said nothing more. Heiner closed the first drawer and opened the second. Inside were several medicine bags and one palm-sized box.

The box he opened was about half full of white pills. He took some in his palm to check. On top of the small, round pills were inscribed letters and numbers.

“What is this?”

Heiner asked, turning around. Blinking several times, Annette answered with hesitation.

“…It’s just medicine.”

“Don’t you get your meds from Arnold on a regular basis?”

Annette took medicine more often than she ate. She seemed to overdose on her medications so he made sure that Arnold prescribed them in individual bags, not in a medicine box.

“I haven’t been taking them much lately…since I didn’t take them, it piled up.”

Pile up? If it was piling up because she didn’t take them, they should be in the individual bags, not piling them together like this.

Heiner closed the lid of the medicine box with a hard look on his face.

“I’ll take this for now.”

“Why do you do that?”

“I don’t see the need to keep the old medicine. Ask your doctor for a new prescription.”

It was a demanding voice that 

would not tolerate any excuses or counter-arguments. Annette moved her lips as if to say something, then dropped her head helplessly.

Suddenly, Heiner’s gaze landed on the embroidery cloth on the table. The embroidery on the white cloth was a wiggly mess even to his unfamiliar eyes.

Heiner knew that her embroidery skills were quite good. Annette had once given him several handmade embroidered handkerchiefs.

“Heiner, here’s a present for you.”

The embroidery on the handkerchief she gave him with a shy smile was very delicate and beautiful. Heiner thought that if the training school had had this subject, he would have flunked it without a doubt.

He laughed when he thought about the noble ladies who learned all this elegant and graceful stuff, overflowing with leisure.

He did not use the disgusting handkerchief. But that didn’t mean he could throw it away. It was nothing more than a piece of cloth, but he remembered the shape and elaborateness of it vividly.

It was hard to believe that the embroidery she had done then and the embroidery she had now were done by the same person. It was as if a child had made it…

Heiner, who was looking annoyingly at the embroidered fabric in front of him, pressed his pager. A servant entered immediately. Heiner ordered without turning around.

“Bring some food. Something light.”