Annette peeled the washed fruit and cut it into small pieces with a knife. Her knife work, which Catherine and Bruner had teased her about, was gradually improving. Of course, she was still slow.
She liked doing chores so that she wouldnât have to think. When she put all her energy into the blade, the distracting thoughts in her head would disappear.
âAnnette, when youâre done cutting, can you put it over here? Iâll do the rest.â
âUh, yes. Hereâ¦â¦â¦â¦â
Catherine was selling homemade fruit juices in the store. Annetteâs knife skills had also improved while helping her make the juice.
As she was engrossed in her work in silence for a long time, the front door opened with the sound of a lock turning. It was Catherineâs husband, Bruner.
âItâs chilly already. Good evening, everyone.â
Bruner took off his hat as he shivered. Immediately, Catherine admonished him.
âThen put on a jacket. How can you not take care of yourself like that?â
âItâs still hot in the daytime.â
âYou call that an excuse? Itâs cold at night. Is it so hard to take off during the day?â
âYes, yes, okay. Iâll take it with me tomorrow. Ugh, Annette, does she nag you so much during the day too?â
Annette smiled without reply. Catherine said Annette did nothing wrong for her to nag about, nothing to nitpick.
While the couple exchanged banters, Annette continued cutting the fruit. But she didnât get it as effortlessly as she just did.
Her hands moved slowly as she quietly pondered.
Her father and her ex-husband said something similar to her. She nagged too much.
Annette was the one who took care of those around her, âher peopleâ to be exact.
It was only by taking care of every little thing that she felt at ease. That was her way of expressing her affection.
When did she stop doing thatâ¦
âWhereâs Olivia?â
âSleeping.â
âMy princess sleeps all the time. Daddy is upset.â
âShe sleeps a lot because sheâs like her father.â
âThere is no one as diligent as me.â
Catherine clicked her tongue and went into the kitchen. She prepared dinner while Bruner went into the nursery to see his sleeping daughter.
Annette peeked in and asked if she needed any help, and was kicked out to finish with the fruit. But she could not finish her work until the meal began.
The three of them sat down at the table where the food was ready. After Bruner briefly prayed for the meal, everyone picked up their silverware.
As they ate, they went about their day. Annette opened her mouth only occasionally to answer a question, agree, or add a word.
âThe atmosphere has been unsettled lately.â
âIs it because of the war? A deal in which we participate?â
âWell. The problem is the governmentâ¦.â
Annette stopped her spoon.
She thought she had glanced at an article in the newspaper about the war. She carefully asked about the story she had picked up.
âI hear that everyone wants war⦠is that true?â
âThatâs the atmosphere, apparently, and the hostility toward the belligerents is sky highâ¦â
These days, the concept of ethnicity had become almost identical to the religious meaning of the word. War was both a way of solidifying their nationalism and a means of proving their power.
The former ruling class, which emphasized the role of war leaders, as well as numerous intellectuals and artists, welcomed the war.
It was a very strange phenomenon.
âIs Padania really going to war?â (Ca)
âI think so.â (B)
âAre you not going to enlist?â (Ca)
âWhere would I go without my wife and my daughter. And my daughter is still a baby.â (B)
âHow commonplace it is for men to leave their babies to go off to war.â (Ca)
âThose are professional soldiers.â (B)
âItâs common among civilians, too.â (Ca)
âAnyway, itâs not me. Why are you so worried about it?â (Ca)
âWhat if youâre forced to enlist?â (Ca)
âThey canât do that these days. Weâre in an era where the King was even brought down, so thereâs no forcing anyoneâ¦Ah.â (B)
Bruner, who had said something outrageous, covered his mouth with his hand. The atmosphere quickly sobered.
Talk of revolution was a kind of inviolability to them.
Annette had never told them not to talk about it, and she hadnât shown any qualms about it, but they didnât even mention it.
Because Annetteâs ex-husband was a military commander-in-chief. Her ex-husband was also taboo to them.
Annette swallowed her stew and agreed with Bruner with a polite smile.
âBruner is right. We are not in the era of monarchy, and they cannot force people. Donât worry, Catherine.â (A)
âHa, ha, see. What are you so worried aboutââ (B)
â⦠If thatâs the case, Iâm glad.â (Ca)
âMore importantly, are you going to look at furniture with me tomorrow? Annette, is there anything you need?â (B)
âShe needs a small bookcase. Itâs roughly this big.â (Ca)
Immediately the subject was changed. The atmosphere that had subsided was revitalized, but the strange awkwardness remained like dust.
Annette was completely indifferent to any mention of the revolution. But she felt uncomfortable nonetheless.
The meal ended in a friendly atmosphere. Olivia, awakened just in time, whined in her room.
Annette cleared the table for the couple, who hurried to check on their daughter. As she lifted the plate, she suddenly noticed that her hand was shaking slightly.
Annette clenched her fists and opened them. Then she cleared the table. Bruner, who had arrived later, dismissed her, saying he would do the dishes.
She tended to the few remaining fruits, and before she knew it, it was late at night. Annette finished cleaning up and went out into the living room.
âIâm turning in a little earlier. Good night, Bruner; good night, Catherine.â
âYes, good night, Annette.â
Annette approached Olivia who was in Catherineâs arms. Her closer face smelled of face powder. Her cute cheeks were soft and plump.
Oliviaâs big eyes fluttered as she stared at Annette. Annette kissed the babyâs cheek and muttered.
âGood night, Olivia.â
âGood night, Annette.â
Catherine replied, mimicking Oliviaâs baby voice. Annette smiled lightly and waved.
***
After washing and dressing, Annette opened her bookshelf. Yellow lights flickered on the gray bookshelf.
Annetteâs gaze moved slowly along the print. But then the gaze stopped moving, staring for a moment, then back to the previous one, and then staring again.
Eventually, Annette closed the bookshelf with a sigh. Her mind was buzzing and she couldnât see the print.
She looked at her empty hands. The shaking had stopped, but the feeling of uneasiness, for reasons unknown, persisted.
âWill Padania really have to go to war?â
What did she know about war? Had she heard about it? Annette didnât even know what war was.
She had no idea how it would practically affect her and Catherineâs household if Padania were to enter the war.
It suddenly seemed laughable.
She had lived for several years in the official residence as the wife of the Commander-in-Chief, how could she know so little about anything?
How pathetic could she be?
Annette, who had been ridiculing herself, realized one step too late the reason for her uneasiness.
Commander-in-Chief. Heiner Valdemarâ¦â¦â¦.
Her ex-husband. The war and the man were inseparable. If Padania went to the war, he would of course be a major decision maker.
ââ¦â¦It has nothing to do with me anymoreâ¦â
Annette thought dryly.
No matter what decisions he made, no matter what accomplishments he made, whether he was on the front lines or at the end of the battlefield, they now had one connecting point left: the country of Padania.
He, commander-in-chief of Padania and she, the citizen of Padania. That was just about the extent of the relationship.
She felt no sadness or nostalgia at this fact. She was just a little more clearly aware of a fact that she had already known before.
Annette could not define exactly what the rest of her feelings were. She was in a state where it was difficult to even control her own feelings.
But Annette was slowly forgetting about him. She used to think about him a hundred times a day; now she thought about him ten times a day. And she would be able to forget him forever.
Just as the world had forgotten her.
Once again, she thought that was a blessing.
***