IPTYFM

CHAPTER XL

⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭
IPTYFM
⭑. ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊˚✩.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭

Why did I find my lost self only in such a situation? My embarrassment must have been plainly visible on my face. The Major sneered and interrogated me.

“Did you forget you had to pretend for a while? Is that why you’re flustered? Or are you now pretending to be surprised by this side of yourself in order to escape this predicament?”

“Major, my brain injury and memory loss can be confirmed by Doctor Seidel at the Leningen University Hospital.”

I meant to assert the truthfulness of my condition. However, he actually took down the hospital and the doctor’s name.

Why go through such painstaking and cumbersome lengths to find a pretext to sleep with me? It was ludicrous and pitiful.

On one hand, if he’s so eager to find a pretext to seduce someone, there are surely easier ways than this laborious charade.

“Why aren’t you trying to regain your memory if you truly don’t have any?”

The stubborn dog resumed his bite without letting the main issue go.

“Common sense dictates that a husband should strive to retrieve his beloved wife’s precious memories first, doesn’t it?”

An ominous feeling prevented me from responding to this person’s insinuations.

“Did the past Rize Einemann experience something so horrific it’s better left forgotten?”

He speculated, echoing my thoughts.

“Not knowing is sometimes a blessing.”

I recalled Johan’s pained expression when I said I wanted to regain my memories.

“I guess I hit the nail on the head.”

The Major smirked, observing my reaction.

“Shall I try to guess what that horrific event was?”

“…”

“Forced marriage.”

“What?”

“A common man must have forced a noble lady into marriage by assaulting her. That’s why Johann Renner is hiding the circumstances of your marriage from you. If you knew, you might want to kill him as you might have wished to in the past.”

“…”

“Now, now, it becomes clear how such a nondescript man acquired a wife as stunning as you.”

“Major…”

“Well? Have you finally remembered?”

“My husband and I speak with the same accent.”

I said, implying that Johann and I belong to the same social class.

This once again silenced the Major. Yet, like a dog unwilling to let go of its bite even after being kicked, he refused to abandon his suspicions about Johann and me.

* * *

Even after that, I was summoned to the Major’s office four to five times a week. As the last month of the year passed by, there was never an occasion where I had to clutch the gun. All the Major did was…

“Has your husband still not told you?”

He would concoct wild theories, framing my husband as a suspicious figure.

“There must be a dishonorable past.”

He wasn’t a confidant, and given there was no love lost between us, he certainly wasn’t a rival in love.

I couldn’t understand what he hoped to gain by slandering my husband, a mere rural school teacher.

“If you write it in a book, it’s a novel; if you say it out loud, it’s a delusion, Major.”

“Oh, how impudent of me, a lowly commoner, to offend. My apologies, Lady.”

And yet, the Major still hadn’t abandoned his suspicion that I came from the upper class, probing at every opportunity.

“Lady Rize.”

“…”

“Aren’t you feeling unfair? That a mere commoner dares to have a noble do menial tasks. If you were of high birth, even I, as a military officer, would go unpunished if you slapped me.”

“…”

“Now, don’t you want to ask your husband, even if just to have a reason to slap me?”

“I did ask.”

“Really?”

Was he truly that eager to know? The Major straightened up from his slouched position, ready to listen attentively to what I had to say.

“And the answer?”

“The answer is something the Major doesn’t need to know.”

“Ha…”

The Major chuckled and leaned back into his chair.

“Given you’re not rushing to slap me despite knowing the answer, you’re probably not nobility.”

I didn’t know. I hadn’t asked.

“If he tries that again, either make up a believable lie or just sulkily tell him there’s no reason to tell him. Or leave him with an ambiguous answer that lets him jump to his own conclusions.”

I simply followed Johann’s advice. I told him everything that happened in the bunker, ensuring he knew there were no inappropriate actions or remarks. He was relieved to hear this, but…

“The Major keeps writing novels about our story.”

“Novels?”

He was significantly concerned when I mentioned how the Major would delve into my amnesia, our status, and fabricate theories about why he wouldn’t tell us about our past.

“Don’t talk about you or me to the Major if possible. Try to change the subject naturally, or if that fails, just keep quiet.”

It does seem a bit suspicious that we have to hide so much. Even to me.

But I don’t want to know.

Perhaps because it seems suspicious, I want to avoid it even more.

“Let’s forget about the past and live on.”

I’m happy now. Knowing a past that only makes Johann give a pained expression. It would only bring unhappiness.

‘Right, as Johan said, not knowing is a blessing.’

Despite weeks of the Major’s third-rate novel reading, my continuous knitting and sewing allowed me to finish Johan’s Christmas present before the day arrived.