Chapter 23: One year later, part 2.

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Translated and Edited by: luccayn.
Enjoy!

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I'll be honest. Though it was a deep desire of mine to forget about it, I've decided to understand Lulu's current situation—at least to an extent—through Rein. Yes, she's alive and well even after a whole year.

To be more precise, she's remained in captivity as planned. Her days are now spent in a small cabin far in the mountains, surrounded by groves and thickets as far as her eyes could see. The previous heir of the Camell house no longer had squires to bid on her every whim and instead had to take care of herself. A dainty field was also left beside her house for her to cultivate.

In the beginning, she'd try to escape by attempting to seduce the occasional watchman or by jumping out of her house-cum-hut. However, she eventually found out the mountain's descent to a task far too grueling for her, as she was in the crux of one, and she had no choice but to return. Her life is now riddled with wailing and reluctance.

One time, she even made a fuss about how she'd end her own life, as she menaced when she met me for the last time. Despite all her threats, however, she didn't attempt it once. Yup, that's pretty much like her, all bark no act.

How, then, had she gone down that route when the Marquis himself made arrangements to get her executed? Simple, unnervingly so. He had laughed and agreed at my answer back when he proposed such an ultimate choice. <Regardless of his own selfish choice, he still arranged it through the Count of Camell.>

“I… No, my apologies. In my opinion—”

Rein and his father locked eyes with mine, and I put my own two coins on the table.

“—I agree with you she's not worth keeping alive, and your judgment ultimately isn't wrong. However, she won't feel a shred of remorse or regret even facing her own mortality, though she may fear it. The Berner’s heads have left her punishment to the heads of the Camell house, and we have no objection to her continued confinement, or whatever other misfortune may be brought upon her.”

I continued. “I personally do not wish for you to regret that ultimate choice. No apology is necessary for what happened in this meeting. And whatever the punishment for her is, let's wear here and now that there will be no hard feelings left between our two families,” my words hovered for a moment longer. “…I know it's selfish, but I truly hope she may live and realize it's not all fantasies and roses, and that life isn't a dream world that gives out unconditional love to those that live in it.”

“I see. You do have a point. Do you have any plans for that life you speak of?”

“I do. She has always wanted to be loved by everyone around her and was ultimately overconfident in that area. It was almost a sickening need for affirmation, if that makes sense. Thus, having a life that subverts that deep-seated desire will be enough for her… Adding to that, and though it may not be the best idea, I would send letters to her in confinement. Every one of those would describe the happy life—hopefully—of myself and those around me. I would let her know of my joy.”

The place of confinement would be little more than a hut deep in the mountains. She would have to do all the household chores alone, and the food she would eat would have to come from the field she was given, so she would be obligated to work as well. In the beginning, she might need some supplies in order to get used to it, seeing as she will refuse to comply at first. As the harvest comes in, however, the supplies will be gradually reduced and she will have to be the one to provide, no matter how much she may wail in selfish screams.

By spending her life like that, no matter how good she may look, she will end up sweating after a hard day's work, have her pretty fingernails riddled with dirt, and have her skin smeared in the grime of a normal fieldworker's burden. Her only virtue, beauty, would then be supplanted by the hardships of daily life.

Such punishment was the one that was decided long ago when they first locked her up. All they had to do was keep following the plan and it would work out like that.

Still, I knew this was far less than it would take. I predicted that, if it were left to just that, she would just keep living and mourning her previous life, filling her head with delusions of a tragic heroine story. The letters I proposed sending had the very purpose of preventing such an outcome.

If the marquis had not asked me for my input on the matter, I would've only asked Rein and Lyla for permission to have a letter I wrote sent to her. But since it was a big deal, I opted to get the marquis involved as well.

A life without entertainment would beget something to fill in the void, and the letters would be the only thing in her grasp. As I would be the sender in every one of them, she would probably try to misunderstand their content in various convenient ways.

However, through time, her idealistic and gormless world would be slowly eroded by the contrast of the life written in ink.

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