IPTYFM

CHAPTER XXXlX

“Next time, bring something to knit with.”

I wondered why he wanted to keep me in front of him for so long. He had no tasks for me to do and no intention of forcing me to do something he wanted.

“If you’re not into staring at your hands for hours.”

It sounded like I couldn’t go home until I fulfilled the assigned time, although I was never informed of such a time. Was it until he got bored of me?

“Don’t look down. Keep your head up. I’m not assaulting you, so drop that expression and smile.”

It seemed I was just a painting on the wall of his office to him, something to look at until he got bored.

Would it have been better if the bombing had disfigured my face instead of injuring my head, so I wouldn’t attract dangerous attention? But would Johann have loved me if I hadn’t been pretty? Surely, Johan’s affection wasn’t just for my appearance.

No, that couldn’t be. I missed Johann. He must be worried about me too. How much would he be worrying?

As I sat uncomfortably with nothing to do but uncomfortable thoughts, the Major spoke to me again.

“Rize Einemann, can you read?”

“Yes.”

I thought he might ask me to write something or work on documents, but that wasn’t the case.

“I guess I can’t leave those documents out then.”

Everything on his desk must be military secrets. I’m a civilian without clearance.

‘Wouldn’t it be best not to keep me sitting here then?’

However, he seemed to have no intention of letting me go. Now, he stopped his work to stare at me.

‘Why is he looking at me like that?’

His gaze was sharp. It felt like I was being interrogated, even though I had done nothing wrong, which made me anxious.

“Being able to read is common in the city where women can have careers and earn money, though not so much in the countryside where a woman’s role is limited to homemaking and childbearing. But…”

He analyzed me as if something didn’t add up, furrowing his brow.

“You speak with the accent of the upper class, which is not common even among city women.”

Upper class? I speak with an upper-class accent?

I knew my accent was different from the people in this rural area, but I thought it was just the difference between city and country dialects. I didn’t realize that what I used was considered upper-class.

‘Is that why people insisted I must have been from a wealthy family?’

Could I really be from the upper class? Yet, Johann never mentioned such a thing. No, Johan chose not to tell me.

“Just follow my lead without asking. When the time comes, I’ll explain everything.”

He said, asking me not to ask further.

“Why would a lady of the upper class live in poverty in this remote village…?”

As if he was looking into and stirring up my inner world with such remarks, I snapped back to reality.

“War can turn the wealthy into paupers overnight.”

“So, Rize Einemann, you do come from an upper-class background?”

“…”

“You don’t know, do you?”

The Major smirked as if he had anticipated my ignorance.

“Your husband hasn’t told you, has he?”

He keeps portraying Johann as some kind of mysterious figure.

“I’ve never asked him.”

“Then, consider it homework until next time. Ask your husband if Rize Einemann comes from the upper class.”

“Why should I ask that?”

“I’m curious.”

“If you’re curious, perhaps you could ask my husband directly or investigate my past yourself.”

“Hmm…”

The Major scrutinized me again, this time with a look of intense interest.

“Don’t you want to know about your own past?”

Now he’s implying I’m the strange one.

“Rize Einemann, you’ve been caught, so just admit it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The claim of memory loss, it’s a lie, isn’t it?”

He was so confidently wrong that I almost laughed.

“Pretending not to remember everything, huh?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because your past isn’t honorable, so you pretend to forget.”

“An honorable past?”

He wildly speculated about my history.

“Did the lady of the upper class abandon her parents for a love escape with a poor commoner? Or perhaps you weren’t an upper-class lady but a wife who eloped with her elderly husband’s son?”

His audacity and vulgarity knew no bounds.

“If that were the case, wouldn’t my husband also need to pretend to have lost his memory?”

The Major fell silent for a moment. Encouraged by successfully countering his argument, I couldn’t resist pushing further. I did something quite out of character for me.

“Major, may I make a speculation of my own?”

“Go ahead.”

“Major, you’re trying to fabricate a weakness in me.”

Just as Johann had mentioned days ago, it seemed like he was trying to concoct a lie or find fault to manipulate me into a position where I’d have no choice but to sleep with him.

“What?”

“The fact that I’ve lost my memory is true, but even if it was a lie, it wouldn’t serve as a weakness for you to exploit.”

The Major looked as if he had been slapped, not because of what I said, but for another reason.

“You seem like a different person.”

“…”

“From a timid woman who stutters and trembles in front of me to suddenly transforming into someone else. Like a haughty lady of the upper class.”

Actually, I was just as surprised as the Major for the same reason. Despite feeling continuously nervous inside, words came out unexpectedly calm and assertive.

‘Is this the real me?’