“Where are you going now?”

“I’m taking Lady Liliette back to her hometown. She’s been struck down by the plague, poor thing. She won’t make it through the year, and with the way things are going, it’s probably safest for her to stay there for now.”

“…….”

“Please take care of yourself.”

The nanny opened her arms and hugged Belviana tightly before parting. It was a pathetically thin embrace. Belviana realized it was the last time she would ever see her. The old nanny’s tears fell on the diary. Fearing the words would be smudged, she stole them away, but to no avail.

By spring, a violent civil revolution had broken out, demanding the emperor’s abdication. The crown princess was thrown from her carriage and decapitated in the square, while her close handmaidens were burned in a tower. The emperor’s indiscriminate slaughter of civilians turned even the majority of the knights against the House of Wittenberg.

The revolution was in flames. It burned the living and the dead alike. Those who had sided with the nobility were hauled off to prison in Belfargo day after day. The newspapers chattered loudly about how powerful the men they had executed or imprisoned were, the placenta of those noble names being those whom Belviana had once glanced at or smiled at in social circles.

The Emperor’s last army had cleverly walled off the capital, but after a few seasons, supplies and food began to run low. Some soldiers were paid to bring supplies into the capital, or to smuggle people out of it. The revolutionary army encamped outside the capital, blockading trains and supplies from entering. The last of the Emperor’s Knights lasted exactly ninety days and two more days. The 49th day of summer. It was the day the white banner of the Templars was hoisted on the highest spire of the castle, and the black and red banners of the Revolutionary Army were raised over the capital, marking the de facto end of the monarchy.

By the following spring, a civil government was in place. The majority of the aristocracy were stripped of their land and property and forced to flee to other countries. Under the new government, nobles were targeted for purge. Those who had survived as parasites on the monarchy, regardless of their origins, were rounded up, spearheaded, and burned to death.

The treasury was already depleted. Crime ran rampant with the government’s acquiescence. Drug, human, and gun trafficking……. It was a time when the more depraved you were, the more wealth you accumulated. Criminals, racketeers, and murderers who pretended to be noble occupied prominent positions in government. They competed to build the largest mansions, threw parties at dawn, and began to build sky-high buildings. There was even talk of a republican aristocracy.

Belviana lived in the midst of it all.

She was able to live through the chaotic times unscathed, thanks to the fact that House Lester had officially announced her death years earlier. At the behest of the Countess, who had sensed the end of her life, a body of someone her own age was procured, placed in a coffin, and a grave made. Not even the revolutionary army, which had descended upon the convent on the northern edge of the city, could drag Belviana away from the oath the faithful nuns had sworn to God. With the help of Mel’s nudging of the city clerk, Belviana was able to get an ID card with her new name on it.

Scarlett Hesse.

It was a combination of her baptismal name and a surname that was randomly distributed to citizens. Her features were still naturally graceful, despite the poor name, but the lack of life was enough to make her look like someone else. It was hard to recall in her dry eyes and pale complexion the woman who had reigned as the Rose of the South so many years ago; she seemed so far removed from all that was noble in the world, a flower frozen by the bitter frost.

Exactly eight and a half years into her stay at the convent in Aalborg, Belviana decided to leave. In the spring of twenty-seven. She was still young after all she had been through.

* * *

When Belviana insisted on leaving the convent, Mel gave her all of her gold without question. She consoled her friend as if she intended to return after a period of traveling around the country, but Mel seemed to intuit a long, perhaps permanent, separation. They parted by clasping each other tightly. After spending a small fortune on train tickets, they only had enough money for a month’s living expenses.

“Where are you going?”

“To Dietrich. It’s been a long time coming, but somehow I think I should start there. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to stay here.”

Mel had vowed to follow the path of a nun after all these years of wandering. After the death of her noble birth father in the midst of the Tribulation, she seemed even more determined.

“Write, you must. Come back whenever you can.”

“I will.”

Belviana sat in the cramped second-class compartment and chewed and swallowed the dry bread she’d brought from the convent without water. The train rocked too much for her to sleep with her eyes closed, and having read all the newspapers and books she’d brought with her, all she could do now was stare out the window.

It had been five hours ago that the unremarkable countryside had disappeared, and the further south she traveled, the more stark and barren the landscape became. At each station, there were far more people getting on than getting off, and by the time she reached the southern part of the train, the sparse spaces were packed tightly together. The occasional trolley selling snacks would pass by, and an unpleasant commotion would ensue as people squeezed themselves into the cramped space.

After dozens of minutes of stops due to a derailment of the train ahead, the train arrived at Dietrich’s station in a cloud of smoke. Nineteen. Home for the first time since he’d fled.

Belviana stepped off the train, clutching the leather bag she’d stowed in the luggage compartment. The grandeur of the station, all white marble, was just as she remembered it, but it bore the marks of its capture by the Revolutionary Army and conversion into a military facility. Belviana wandered around, half dazed, until she bumped into a woman she didn’t recognize.

“Where the hell have you been keeping your eyes?”

“Sorry.”

The woman rolled her eyes and walked away. Belviana picked up her bag from the floor. The air seemed different from the Dietrich she remembered. She grabbed one of the carriages lined up outside the station and headed into Dietrich’s old town, where a few years ago it had been a bustling row of dress, jewelry, and perfume shops, but now the staples of daily life were tucked away. Belviana dismounted in front of the ramshackle inn her coachman had recommended.

“Twenty thousand sols a night.”

The innkeeper opened the door, looked her up and down, and quoted her a price. It wasn’t cheap for a ramshackle inn. When Belviana hesitated, the innkeeper pointed a chubby finger at her and listed the benefits.

“Bath water is heated and served every other day, and meals are served every morning until seven. The sheets are changed every three days. The room has a window. I won’t accept anything less.”

“Okay. Show me the room first.”

“How long will you be staying?”

“A week, maybe a little longer.”

The hostess pulled a packet of keys out of her front pocket and led the way up the cramped stairs. Belviana followed closely behind her, carrying her leather bag. The room she led them to was cramped, barely big enough for the three of them, but the bedding was as clean as she’d promised. Belviana produced two platinum coins and placed them in the hostess’ thick palm, and was given a long, flat key. The hostess slipped the coins into her front pocket and said.

“Dinner is five thousand sols, and I lock the door after ten o’clock at night, so you must be in before then.”

“I’ll remember that.”

After paying for the inn, all she had left was a handful of coins that could be held in one hand. Belviana tossed her bag onto the bed and made her way to the labor office.

Dietrich was the city where she had lived her entire life as the young Countess of Lester, so it would not have been out of place for someone to recognize her on the street. Choosing Dietrich as her first stop, and going to a manpower office where she would not be expected to look unless she intended to settle down, was a puzzling move, but she had no choice. She had to get back into the Lester mansion somehow.

Years ago, when she and Liam had planned their getaway, she’d stashed her jewelry and dresses in a secret compartment under her bed. It contained as much wealth as the iron-fisted count could muster. It was not easily opened without a key, so as long as the building remained intact, it would still be intact. The riches would be enough to sustain her for the rest of her life.

The Empire was all too real to her. Her dead parents, the war, the revolution, and Aiden……. Every moment was a reminder of the past. Summer nights, endless balls, New Year’s parties, champagne, the strong arms of the man who held her tightly……. These were moments she would have given her all to relive, but she knew now that it was all in vain. She was sick of it all. Once she secured the Count of Lester’s inheritance, she planned to travel beyond the borders of the country and spend her days wandering the quiet cities of exotic lands.

Belviana pushed open the shabby wooden door with its curled parchment inscription. Even though it was nearly evening, the office was bustling with activity. The woman at the cramped desk in the doorway handed her a pen and paper and spoke softly.

“If you want to register, please fill this out first.”

Dipping the pen into the ink, Belviana pressed the paper against the wall and wrote down her fake name and age. As soon as she had filled in all the blanks, the woman snatched the paper from her hand. After a long wait, Belviana was led to a larger desk stacked with papers. The one-eyed, bespectacled man held the papers in front of her and spoke slowly.