“Anyway, have a safe trip today.”

“Are you coming over tonight too?”

“Well, Marie said she enjoys it when children’s books are read to them.”

Marcel Blanc grinned as he spoke. Despite not being close friends for years, Marcel had become adept at understanding how to handle Leonard. He knew that Leonard was particularly vulnerable when it came to Marie.

“…If it means being with Marie.”

If anything were to happen to Marie, Leonard would worry endlessly. Even a small cut on her finger would cause him great concern. And so, when Marcel used Marie as an excuse, Leonard couldn’t help but respond to the sudden invitation. It was as if he longed for a younger sibling or niece to be a part of his life. Every time Marcel saw this side of Leonard, he became curious about Leonard’s past, but he had already made it clear that he didn’t need an answer. Thus, he refrained from asking about Leonard’s past and present.

Marcel had decided to treat Leonard like one of the many nobles of the Seine who had fallen after the Great Revolution. He didn’t know how the rest of the town would react, but Marcel was determined to ignore any judgments. After all, according to the republican government, the caste system had been abolished, declaring that all people were equal from birth. If that were true, then the fallen nobles, like Marcel Blanc, were no different from commoners. So, if they were correct, “Leo Serdieu,” who was believed to have been an aristocrat, would not be someone Marcel could never associate with, unlike himself. In fact, hadn’t they already become close?

If there was no reason to discriminate against Leonard as a commoner, there was no reason to despise him as an aristocrat either.

Some might find this notion ridiculous, but Marcel Blanc believed it, at least. With that belief in mind, he spent the whole night taking care of Marie together with Leonard, drinking coffee, having dinner, and occasionally having a drink. That was the plan for tonight as well. Marcel opened the door for Leonard, who was putting on his coat, and bid him farewell.

“Well then, see you later.”

Neither Leonard nor Marcel knew at that moment that those words would not be kept.

? ? ?

After Count Basbourg’s resistance army occupied Rochelle, the southern revolutionary army was struggling to defend Eldanyu while stationed in Rue, the capital of Eldanyu. If Eldanyu fell, Shevour would be next, and if Shevour fell, all three provinces of Basbourg would be at risk of occupation by the resistance. Thus, the main battleground at present was Beluz, another city in Eldanyu, and among them, Verduis, the representative commune of Beluz.

Verduis today resembled a scene of particularly intense fighting. The sound of stick grenades exploding and the continuous exchange of gunfire echoed relentlessly. The once picturesque Verduis, known for being one of the representative urban communes, had completely lost its former charm. The city had been ravaged by repeated battles, and even amidst the chaos, there were civilians who couldn’t evacuate. Whenever a fierce battle erupted in Verduis, they would hide in underground bunkers, inside houses, or sometimes behind crumbling walls, anxiously waiting for the fighting to end.

As Marcel had predicted, Anais had indeed appeared on the battlefield. However, Anais did not follow him closely, fearing that his presence might draw attention from the revolutionary army, as he was still wanted by them.

Instead, it was Leonard who couldn’t leave Anais alone. Though they were not explicitly together, he followed her at a cautious distance. Their objective was to rescue and treat the wounded, so Leonard’s discreet following did not hinder him from fulfilling his duties.

Anais moved through the city, tending to the wounded, while Leonard trailed behind, helping them find safer hiding spots or guiding them out of the city altogether before returning to Anais. It was an unplanned collaboration, one that Anais probably wasn’t even aware of.

“Doctor. Please save me…”

After repeating this kind of cooperation several times, a soldier who had fallen to the ground suddenly grabbed Anais by the ankle. Fortunately, Leonard witnessed the scene from a distance. The man was dressed in a black military uniform, but he lacked the badge that would indicate his affiliation with the Revolutionary Army. He was a resistance fighter, hungry for his first conquest.

Amidst the chaos around them, with no doctors or medics in sight, only Anais had the ability to heal the man. Unaware of whether the man recognized Anais Bellemartier’s face or simply clung to a sliver of hope, he refused to let go of her.

The people Anais had been treating on the battlefield were either unfortunate civilians caught in the crossfire or Revolutionary Army soldiers who had no nearby medics to attend to them. And Leonard, too, had become accustomed to this sight. After all, Anais Belmartier was one of the key figures within the Revolutionary Army. She was revered by many, and the man who sought her healing touch was likely the first and last foolish resistance fighter who would approach her.

Leonard knew that Anais would undoubtedly reject the man’s plea. It was the logical course of action. Anais’s duty at that moment was to save as many civilians and Revolutionary Army soldiers as possible, utilizing the limited time and resources for treating those in need.

However, for a brief moment, Anais appeared to be in turmoil before bending down to examine the man’s injuries.

Leonard was taken aback. Anais’s expression did not betray happiness, but that was all. Soon enough, she transformed into her role as a doctor, focusing on her healing work. How could she be like this?

While Anais tended to the man’s injuries, he trembled. Leonard sensed that it wasn’t just due to the pain. But he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Something about the scene felt unsettling, even eerie.

Bang!

Gunshots echoed through the air.

The trembling hands of the man who held the gun were aimed at Anais. For a moment, Leonard thought he had witnessed something unreal, but then reality hit him like a thunderbolt. No! An inaudible scream rose from deep within his throat. He stood frozen, unable to articulate the words of protest that had sprung forth.

“Ms. Belmartier!”

The scream that had once pierced his ears came rushing back, gripping him by the ankle. His entire body screamed at him to move, but his feet remained rooted in place. It only took a single gunshot to claim a life. Yet, what he saw in that moment, as Anais collapsed, was different from the countless images of people being shot that he had witnessed since coming to Basbur and wandering the battlefields. It brought forth vivid memories, as if the past had resurrected before his eyes. Memories of springs adorned with blood-red flowers. Memories of pleas, promises, and vows…

“By protecting you, let me apologize for your father and brother.”

“I may be seen as a hypocrite, but I genuinely hope His Highness remains safe.”

Could it be that my continued existence is also an apology to you? I don’t think so, but…

If you falter here, what becomes of my atonement?

The man who shot Anais took a few steps back, as if he was terrified, unlike the Imperial soldiers who were skilled in ending lives. Then, he turned and fled. However, Leonard did not give chase. He had no time for that.

For a brief moment, he hesitated, intending to rush towards Anais, who lay bleeding on the ground. Yet, he quickly realized that he had no means to transport her injured body. He had no desire to take her to the Basbourg Fortress, and even if he did, Catherine de Basbourg would never save Anais Belmartier.

Even if Anais were brought to the Revolutionary Army’s doctors or the Armed Forces of Ardi, she would eventually be transported to Rue for proper treatment. But if that happened, it was clear what awaited him. He had claimed that he didn’t care if he were captured and killed, but when the time came to put those words into action, his feet refused to move. Only after it was all over did he feel ashamed for worrying about an enemy like her.

If that’s the case, is this hesitation stemming from my unwillingness to die for the sake of my blood’s adversary?

Just as he was contemplating these thoughts, he saw a short blonde man running towards them from the opposite direction, calling out, “Miss Anais!” He was surrounded by several soldiers who appeared to be her bodyguards, a testament to his considerable status. The anxious tone in their voices when they called out her name confirmed their familiarity. It was evident that they would take Anais to a safe place for treatment. It was over now. He didn’t need to intervene.

As he convinced himself of that, a cold knot formed in the corner of his chest. And when he regained his senses, he found himself on a tram heading to the general hospital in Rue, his hat pulled low without his conscious awareness.

? ? ?

News of Anais Belmartier being critically injured after being shot by resistance fighters during a relief operation on the battlefield spread rapidly throughout Léans.

The people of Léans, who adored Anais Belmartier, the angel of the assembly and the bearer of the dawn’s light, were enraged by the actions of the resistance fighters who targeted a doctor instead of a soldier. In an instant, their anger extinguished the sympathy that had briefly been kindled for the former imperial family due to a photo submitted by a foreign journalist.