Even if the Dawn Abandons You - Chapter 5

The old floor creaked, greeting the uninvited guests. Besides the aged furniture, the neatly organized room reeked of disinfectant, resembling more of a hospital than a home. I couldn’t help but feel surprised at the sight.

In Dunang, there were many vacant houses left without owners. Like Leonard, Anais settled in one of them and established a hospital. Despite spending more time on their feet tending to the wounded, they received no compensation. Anais’s house served as the only hospital in this small yet perilous town after the village’s sole doctor fled to the capital a month prior.

As Leonard placed the baskets of potatoes in the shed adjacent to the kitchen, he pondered why he was still residing in Dunang. The reason, which had been painfully clear until Anais arrived, suddenly became muddled with her presence. He contemplated why he had let go when he confronted Anais that day, and why he hadn’t run away upon hearing the villagers’ exclaim, “Anais Belle Martier has come to our village.”

As the sole surviving member of the Charleroi Dynasty, Leonard knew the Revolutionary Army would continue to pursue him, and Anais Belmartier was an officer within their ranks. By all accounts, when he encountered Anais, it would have been logical to eliminate her and make his escape. If they were concerned about witnesses, the act could have been carried out by visiting this house when it was unoccupied. After all, she was an enemy who had mercilessly killed his entire family, including innocent children. However, she was now a fragile opponent who couldn’t even protect herself. Yet he wasted endless days for no discernible reason, and that… 

“I swear upon my honor, Anais Belmartier. I must—”

… damn it.

Delving into the labyrinth of his mind, unwelcome memories that he had hoped to keep buried for this moment resurfaced abruptly. He recalled a face more filled with resentment than any external enemy—the face of a fool who had unknowingly entrusted the weightiest promise of his life into her hands. He also recollected the earnestness he had displayed, offering what he believed to be the heaviest thing he possessed. Alone in the warehouse, hidden from prying eyes, Leonard clutched his forehead, consumed by unease. Damn it, damn it.

“Mr. Serdieu?”

After a while, he sensed something amiss as the voice of an elderly woman called out to him from outside. It was time to don the mask of Leo Serdieu once more. Taking a few deep breaths and feigning a benevolent expression, as if he hadn’t been consumed by such intense emotions, he hastily left the house, pretending to wipe away nonexistent sweat.

Outside the door, Anais, repeatedly apologizing, insisted that she had to attend to urgent patients instead of having tea with the grandma. The old lady reassured her, shaking her hand, saying it was alright. They created a heartwarming scene. In the past, or rather, in recent times, it would have been a sight Leonard would have delighted in witnessing.

But that only made it harder for him to witness such a heartwarming scene. Just as he was about to announce his departure, an unexpected voice caught his attention.

“Hey, Mr. Serdieu.”

Anais called out to him. Leonard was taken aback. At first, he thought he had misheard, but upon the second instance, he wondered, ‘Did she really call me just now?’ He had grown accustomed to the improvised surname Serdieu, yet hearing it spoken by Anais felt peculiar.

 Was it truly appropriate for her to address him in such a manner? Or, just as he struggled to maintain the facade of Leo Serdieu, was she also wearing a mask? Were her cool silver hair and bright eyes merely an easy disguise? Countless unanswered questions swirled in Leonard’s mind as he turned to face Anais.

Then, with an expression as ordinary as a lie, Anais Belmartier uttered the following words:

“Actually, it seems there’s a leak in the ceiling, but I find it challenging to fix it myself. If it’s not too much to ask, could you come and take a look this evening?”

Brave, thoughtless, or perhaps insane.

One of those three words came to mind.

? ? ?

Anais Belmartier was born to two esteemed scholars from wealthy bourgeois families. Her parents, Frédéric Belmartier and Edith Angel, were both professors at the University of Beaurenais. Anais had an older brother named Marcel Bellemartier, with whom she had a somewhat distant relationship. She grew up showered with love from her family. Their four-story townhouse in the capital, Seine, was their cherished abode.

The first tragedy struck the Belmartier family when Anais was merely five years old—her mother, Edith, succumbed to a plague. Anais retained only faint memories of her mother. In her mind, she held onto a hazy, black-and-white photograph that captured her mother’s gentle smile. Nevertheless, Anais thrived, nurtured by the affection of her father and brother.

However, a storm brewed within the family the following year. Marcel, against Frédéric’s wishes, joined the military academy. Marcel aspired to become a valiant and righteous soldier of the empire, a bastion safeguarding Léans. Frédéric, a staunch pacifist, vehemently opposed his son’s path as a soldier. This disagreement led to a bitter conflict, severing familial ties. When Marcel entered the dormitory-based military academy, Frederic and Anais remained the only ones at home.

Years later, Marcel graduated from the military academy, ranking first in his class, and was honored to serve as a second lieutenant in Prince Henri’s bodyguard. Frédéric refused to attend the graduation ceremony, so Anais, then ten years old, stood as the family representative, presenting a bouquet of flowers. Despite the lingering discord, Anais couldn’t help but feel proud of her brother.

The second tragedy struck in the winter of Marcel’s second year as a second lieutenant.

News reached the imperial family that radical republicans were plotting an assassination attempt on Crown Prince Henri. While unable to prevent the emperor’s tyranny, the imperial family discovered the radicals’ audacious plan to attack the crown prince during his birthday procession—an event synonymous with exploiting the people—resulting in his death and the emperor’s demise.

However, Prince Henri, distrustful of the intelligence reports, refused to alter or cancel the procession. He lacked the courage to deviate from the planned course of action; he had always been inclined toward cowardice. In response, the prince chose a substitute to ride in the carriage designated for him.

As a result, the prince remained unharmed. However, the substitute—Marcel Belmartier, the second lieutenant of the prince’s bodyguard—boarded the carriage in his place and was fatally shot by a young radical republican.

That day marked the end of Marcel Belmartier’s life at the age of 22.

? ? ?

“Leo!”

While lost in thought, contemplating whether he should indeed return to Anais’s house later that evening and, if so, what he should do, Leonard halted upon hearing a familiar voice.

Across the street, he spotted a young man with fiery red hair approaching. Leonard couldn’t help but emit a soft chuckle. Indeed, anyone in Dunang who encountered him other than Leonard would think the same. This young man happened to be Leonard’s first friend after arriving in Dunang.

“Where are you headed?”

“The sun is setting, and Marie hasn’t come home yet. I’m going to look for her because I’m losing track of time, and we’ll play together.”

The young man rolled up his sleeves, his voice brimming with determination, as if to say, “I must express some kindness today.” But Leonard knew all too well that his friend was completely defenseless against his younger sister’s whims. Little Marie, so adorable and endearing, would eventually return home, holding her older brother’s hand. Perhaps Leonard would have the chance to give her a piggyback ride, a rare occurrence these days. A fleeting smile crossed Leonard’s face as he reminisced about his eldest niece Louise and her same-aged cousin Marie. However, his smile quickly transformed into a melancholic expression.

Louise Henriette de Charleroi.

The daughter of Prince Henri, she now lay as a lifeless body in the cold and towering eastern keep. Leonard swallowed his anguish, his teeth grinding against the flesh inside his mouth. In the past, he had carried his nieces on his shoulders, played with dolls and toy soldiers, and read them children’s books. But now, all he could hope for was that the children’s end had not been too agonizing.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could you come and check on my house tonight?“

Nevertheless, those children met their tragic fate, and yet, they spoke to him with such ordinary expressions. The more he pondered, the more it stirred a mix of laughter and anger within him. And, on the other hand, he couldn’t help but wonder why Anais had gone to such lengths to summon him.

Just as Leonard wrestled with his thoughts, the young man, oblivious to Leonard’s intentions, lightly nudged his arm and continued speaking.

“I know where you’re going.”

The young man let out a series of inexplicable laughter.

“Did you visit Mrs. Belmartier’s house with Madame Bruni?”

“How did you…?”

“At first glance, I heard that two young individuals from the capital suddenly arrived in this remote area, and I wondered if it was a good opportunity to make new friends. I thought she might have taken you along since she’s helping the teacher pick potatoes.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“True. I told you not to go, but you didn’t listen.”

The young man patted Leonard’s shoulder, as if seeking guidance, and offered words of encouragement. Leonard remained silent but silently expressed his gratitude to his friend for noticing his disheartened state.

As the sun set, Marcel Blanc’s resolute smile was bathed in the warm red glow of twilight.