Even if the Dawn Abandons You - Chapter 2

“Basbourg…”

The central meeting room of the grand palace, once known as the Imperial Palace of Leang but now renamed the Presidential Palace, fell into an uneasy silence. Enjolras Remicourt, the first president of the Republic of Leans, touched his forehead with a troubled expression. Enjolras had been a student of Frédéric Bellemartier and had cared for Anais like his niece for several years.

Anais had boarded the train to Basbourg, more precisely to Rance, the city adjacent to it, immediately after the execution of the royal family. Despite their belated realization, Enjolras and the other comrades in the revolutionary army couldn’t stop her in time. Charlotte, shaking her head, admitted that she had no idea Anais was planning to leave right away.

The conference room, filled with officers of the Revolutionary Army, was enveloped in an awkward silence. Concern for Anais, who had gone to Basbourg, was on everyone’s mind, but no one rushed to speak. It was Arianne Champleign, twirling her black straight hair, who finally broke the silence with a voice dripping with intrigue.

“Anyway, she’s not naturally like that. She’s just a kid with exceptional acting skills.”

“Don’t be like that, Arianne.”

“The President is overreacting. Anais is not fifteen; she’s twenty-five. Shouldn’t we believe that an adult can find her own path?”

How could one stop a doctor from claiming they could heal a patient? 

Arianne’s cynical question cast another temporary silence. Everyone knew that there was no solid reason to prevent Anais from going to Basbourg. The one to break the silence this time was Edmond Lambert, a young strategist of the revolutionary army who had vehemently clashed with Anais over the execution of the imperial family members. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, exhaled a thin stream of smoke, and looked down at the old marble table in the middle of the conference room.

“I agree. It would be best to keep Anais in Seine, but we can take this opportunity to show our concern for the civil war in the south.”

Edmond’s voice carried a touch of femininity as he brushed aside his neatly combed dark blond hair. He cleared his throat a couple of times, seemingly anticipating the president’s disapproval. No one seemed to dispute the fact that he was the most pleased with Anais’ departure to Basbourg at the moment, which troubled Charlotte. She blamed herself for failing to apprehend Anais.

“Edmond, you’re like this even in such circumstances…”

“More importantly, Charlotte, what I’m curious about is this.”

Edmond continued his question, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray and rubbing it out. His bright green eyes sparkled with a cool light.

“You said she won’t come back?”

“Yes, that’s what she said. She doesn’t believe this is where she belongs.”

President Renicourt’s voice echoed with anguish upon hearing Charlotte’s response, and the comrades questioned Anais’ decision to leave forever, especially after causing some discord over the execution of “only” the imperial family members.

Only Arianne, who had observed the situation with keen interest, noticed the strangely ominous atmosphere emanating from Edmond’s actions.

? ? ?

The news of the republican government executing all members of the royal family in the Eastern Tower spread rapidly throughout Leans. Some viewed it as a severe punishment, while others were appalled that it wasn’t enough to bring down the “Emperor” and annihilate the royal lineage.

In the south, there were no birds to sing cheerfully.

Basbourg alone found itself amidst a civil war between the Imperialists and the government forces.

The government forces, confident that killing all members of the royal family would crush the imperialists’ momentum, soon realized how spectacularly wrong they were. Even after learning of the deaths of the entire royal family, the Imperial Restoration faction refused to back down. Filled with loyalty and a burning desire to avenge their fallen master and restore the national system, they stood resolutely against the government forces. Leading the charge was Countess Catherine de Basbourg, the young commander of Basbourg Fortress.

Dunang, a tiny village in Basbourg, suffered greatly.

The Count of Basbourg, once second to none in his loyalty to Antoine XIII and his exploitation of the southern populace, had disregarded the suffering of the people and sparked a civil war. The government forces fared no better. While some military personnel had joined the revolutionary army during the Great Revolution, the majority of Ardinand’s troops were essentially mercenaries. Even with the presence of government officials dispatched by President Renicourt, who genuinely aimed to protect civilians, their capabilities had limits.

Dunang, located not far from the war zone, was in a constant state of turmoil. The already dwindling population continued to decline day by day, and the village was on the brink of collapse. Injured individuals appeared daily, and the whole village seemed to be teetering on the edge of destruction.

Neither the imperialists nor the government army paid heed to the escalating pain inflicted upon the people by the civil war. In the midst of this crumbling village, a young man managed to survive alongside his fellow villagers.

The villagers knew him as Leo Serdieu.

This burly young man with auburn hair and gray eyes arrived in Dunang not long ago. He had shown up in the village towards the end of last summer, stayed at the inn for a few days, and eventually settled down. Contrary to his somewhat imposing appearance, Leo was a polite and gentle young man. He quickly assimilated into the daily life of Dunang, endearing himself to the villagers.

“Mr. Serdieu, where are you heading?”

“I need to go to Verduis.”

Leo Serdieu was intercepted while walking down the street, dressed inconspicuously in old clothes. When he mentioned the name of the neighboring town, a young boy’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he exclaimed:

“The adults said it’s dangerous in Verduis today!”

Leo Serdieu paused and gazed into the distance. He then bent down to the child’s eye level, his reddish-brown hair tousled but giving off an oddly well-kept appearance. In a low and earnest tone, he spoke to the child.

“Yes, it’s dangerous there. People can be very dangerous.”

His large, calloused hand tousled the child’s hair. With curious eyes, the child asked Leo Serdieu as he patted his now-ruffled hair.

“Can I come too?”

“No, my friend. As I said, you shouldn’t follow Mr. Serdieu so recklessly!”

The boy’s uncle, a man living next door to Leo Serdieu, intervened to prevent the child’s awkward question. Pretending to playfully tap the child’s forehead, the man gestured to Leo Serdieu, urging him to proceed. Leo picked up his pace, acknowledging the gesture with a grateful wink. Meanwhile, the man next door loudly called out to Leo Serdieu:

“Serdieu! Stay safe!”

Turning around, Leo smiled kindly at his neighbor’s words of caution. The neighbor shook his head, seemingly unsure about the situation, but with a deeply moved expression on his face, he returned to his seat.

Today, Leo Serdieu found himself at a corner of the battlefield. He had no intention of joining the fight. The battle of Berdua was taking place that day. The cacophony of cannons and gunfire merged into a deafening symphony, while blood and spent shell casings littered the ground, emanating the acrid scent of gunpowder and death. Leo Serdieu climbed as high as possible to survey the chaos unfolding beneath him.

Ardinand’s army donned navy blue uniforms. Until recently, both the Imperial Restoration Army and the government military forces, which had once been part of the Imperial Army, had worn black military uniforms. The only distinguishing feature was the badge symbolizing the Revolutionary Army worn by the latter.

It was a stroke of luck that the civilians were the easiest to differentiate in the midst of this living hell. Although Leo Serdieu rarely found himself on the battlefield, whenever he did, he would assist in carrying wounded or deceased civilians caught in the urban warfare. He did not discriminate; he helped everyone because he refused to turn a blind eye.

As he scanned the area, Leo noticed a petite woman standing awkwardly next to an injured man. She held a first aid kit and appeared to be a doctor. It seemed that the wounded man she had treated had lost consciousness and was unable to be moved to safety. While he drooped as if he had lost all strength, he was considerably shorter than Leo and should have been able to walk to the safety zone on his own.

“I can assist you—”

Leo Serdieu rushed towards them, but as soon as he got a close look at the woman’s face, he froze in his tracks as if rooted to the spot. He immediately regretted his carelessness. The woman had silver hair. He should have been a little more cautious. However, before he could dwell on his mistake, the woman uttered his name in astonishment, her voice trembling.

“His Highness Leonard…?”

The silver-haired woman quickly glanced around to ensure no one had overheard, her face familiar to Leo.

She was an officer of the Leang Revolutionary Army.

A young revolutionary known as the harbinger of the dawn.

“…Anais Belmartier.”

And just a few months ago, she had become Leo Serdieu’s enemy—or rather, the second prince of Leans, Leonard Antoine de Charleroi.