If I could have, I would have fallen to my knees before him. But he enjoyed watching me crumble and beg. It hardened him further and made him crueler.

Yes, this moment was exactly the same.

After Father was purged, I, too, was interrogated by the Red Army. When I was fifteen, I was spat at and shouted at by an officer wearing the red star.

“Filthy girl… You pretended to be noble, raising your head high, but the tables have turned now. You won’t escape the people’s judgment. We’ll tear you apart until your thighs split, shave your head bare, and drag you through the Red Square for all to see…”

Jurgen’s hatred and rage were no different. The way he sought to vent his fury in such awful ways!

He used me throughout the night.

Only after that torturous ordeal had ended did he finally fall asleep. Trapped in his burning embrace, I, too, slipped into unconsciousness, exhausted.

✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹

Something cold pressed against my back. A stethoscope.

“It’s due to overwork.”

The man in a white coat said, speaking with Jurgen. He must have called for a doctor.

“Yes.”

“I’ll administer an IV drip. Make sure she rests for at least four days.”

After the visiting doctor set up the IV and left, Jurgen settled into a seat beside me. The steady drip, drip of the fluid grated on my nerves, and I wanted nothing more than to rip the needle out immediately.

“I’ll give you the room. Rest.”

Jurgen murmured after staring at me in silence for a long while. With a sigh, he rose to leave.

As soon as he stepped outside, I removed the IV drip and stood up. I couldn’t afford to waste any time lying there. The first thing I needed to do was call the garage.

“Hello, Mr. Smirnov. It’s Svyeta.”

— “Svyeta, are you serious…! How many times has this been? Why are you doing things you’ve never done before?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be able to come to work for a while.”

— “What?”

“I really am sorry.”

— “Is something going on?”

“It’s… not a serious problem. But there’s something urgent I need to resolve.”

I heard Mr. Smirnov sigh on the other end.

— “All right. I understand. Let’s meet soon. I’ll make sure you don’t lose your job.”

“Thank you.”

After ending the call, I searched Jurgen’s room from top to bottom. There must be a reason for his hatred of me. I wasn’t sure if I would find anything, but I searched the meticulously organised space anyway.

The bookshelves were filled to the brim. Aside from his professional texts, every book was written in a foreign language. While searching, I came across a framed photograph on top of the dresser.

It showed a beautiful woman smiling warmly as she held two boys who looked like brothers. On closer inspection, I realised that the boys were Jürgen and his older brother. The young Jürgen was laughing playfully in his mother’s arms. He looked so different from the man I knew now that I was overcome with an unsettling feeling.

“What are you doing?”

Jurgen had returned unexpectedly. Startled, I hurriedly set the frame back down.

“Are these your mother and brother? And this one is you? You look so different from now—I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Jurgen removed his coat and hung it neatly in the wardrobe before answering.

“That was taken a long time ago.”

“To think even you… had such a bright, innocent time in your life…”

“I’m still bright and innocent.”

I froze, backing away awkwardly. Innocent? Him? Where on earth?

“Why didn’t you stay put with your IV instead of rummaging through someone else’s room?”

“I wasn’t rummaging. I was just… looking around.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

“…”

“If you’re better, then go wash up.”

Of course! A man who is obsessively neat could hardly tolerate seeing me looking dishevelled. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he cut my hair short or slicked it back with pomade.

✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹

I did as he said and showered in his bathroom. There were lots of unfamiliar items: shaving cream and razors, skin tonics, lotions and colognes. I opened one of the perfume bottles and took a whiff. It was the same scent that clung to Jürgen.

“This looks like something a woman would use…”

I stared in surprise at a lotion bottle adorned with roses. He was so rigid and stiff on the outside, yet his taste was oddly peculiar.

When I had finished my shower and was about to step out, there was a knock at the door.

“I bought some clothes for you. I’ll leave them here. Put them on and come out.”

Inside the department store bag, I found some underwear and a slip. I could feel the heat rising to my face — I had never received anything like this from a man before. Embarrassment and shame washed over me. But what choice did I have now?

Resigned, I put on the slip he had given me and stepped outside. His gaze fell on me immediately, and my cheeks burned hot.

“You really are a disgraceful man.”

I muttered, my face flushed scarlet. To dress me in such a revealing slip instead of proper nightclothes… It was infuriating.

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“In Elkinsky it’s too cold. If you sleep in nothing but a slip, you’ll freeze to death.”

“My apologies. Sit down.”

Jurgen set the newspaper he had been reading onto the table and gestured with his chin toward the seat across from him. I went over and sat where he indicated.

“This is my father.”

I tilted my head as I accepted the paper he handed me. Was the man in the photograph supposed to be his father?

“You don’t look very surprised. Did you already know?”

“Know what?”

“That my father is Günter von Bechmann.”

“He does look familiar… Is he someone famous?”

“…Are you that ignorant of current affairs?”

“I suppose so.”

I admitted honestly.

“Is your father a Communist official? A politician? That’s why he’s friends with Archum, isn’t he?”

I tossed out the guess without much thought, sipping at my tea.

“My father is a high-ranking official in Hildenbech. A soldier who led the coup.”

Hildenbech had once been a dictatorship, but a rebellion had overthrown it and a new government had been installed. The war ended with the rebellion in Hildenbech and the subsequent surrender of the new government that had emerged from it. Meanwhile, a socialist revolution erupted in Elkinsky.

I sighed and glanced at the newspaper he had put down. “Purge, purge, purge!” The word blared in the headlines, and my heart sank.

Even now, newspapers frightened me. Ever since Father’s death, I had stopped reading them. It wasn’t that I had no interest in politics, I just couldn’t bear to know any more.

“Still… if your father is a high-ranking official in Hildenbech, shouldn’t you be worried about being here like this, Jurgen?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Hildenbech doesn’t carry out purges?”

“Why would they?”

His eyes drifted toward the snow falling outside the window before he spread the newspaper open again.

“This world is so beautiful—why would anyone want to kill?”

As he spoke, he reached for the record player on the table. The disc spun, and Shostakovich’s lively waltz began to play.

Jurgen was a contradiction. The same man who once declared he would kill me was now murmuring about why anyone would take a life.

“Do you know how to dance?”

“I learned when I was very young, but… I don’t really remember.”

“Come here.”

I hesitated before stepping toward him.

“You can’t mean we’re going to dance?”

His arm slowly slid around my waist. Timing his steps to the music, he guided me effortlessly and, just like that, my childhood memories came alive. Almost entranced, I waltzed with him.

“Ah…!”

However, being as clumsy as I am, I stumbled when my feet got tangled up. Jürgen lifted me up easily and spun me around in his arms.

Held against his chest, I clung to his shoulders and locked gazes with him. My breathing quickened and my heart pounded wildly.

When my feet touched the ground again, he pulled me closer by the waist without saying a word. His lips pressed down on mine. The passionate kiss lingered — deep and unyielding — and that night, I gave myself to him once more.

He claimed me every night as if it were a matter of course. Yet this time, it was not the violent ordeal it had once been.