1-19

On the first night of living together, they didn't make love. Nor did they on the second night. Nor the third. It seemed both understood that the beginning of their relationship carried too strong a desire, thus it required time to confirm if there was something else between them. This situation troubled Hilsbeth more, for she still harbored some fear of him, making it impossible for her to be the initiator. The second night, she lay in bed with her back to the bedroom door; after he got into bed, he embraced her from behind. Nervously, she wondered what he would do next, but nothing happened. He simply held her until he fell asleep. Goodnight, she murmured to herself.

Though living together, Hilsbeth still went to church every morning. Panthonia went to the police station; they had a brief part of their commute together, but he left home half an hour earlier. Two days later, Hilsbeth left half an hour earlier, too, to walk with him. During this walk, she occasionally walked close to him. The result was that when they arrived at the church, the gatekeeper still didn't allow anyone other than clerics in, leaving her to wait for half an hour. Eventually, Hilsbeth no longer fretted about being too early for church. However, she encountered trouble in choir rehearsals. The conducting priest often said to her, "Hilsbeth, this is a solemn, dignified, and holy song, passed down in the church for centuries. No one asked you to cleverly modify its melody. Follow those around you."

" Hilsbeth, how many times must I tell you? When singing, your heart should be filled with reverence for the holy light. The church is not a place for worldly charm; you don't need to use a smile to entice the audience."

" Hilsbeth!"

Both of them had lunch where they worked during the day. Hilsbeth only had to prepare dinner for the night, but this became another thing that troubled her. She couldn't confirm when Panthonia would come back at night; even if she asked him in the morning, there wouldn't be any useful results. So her usual approach was to prepare the ingredients and start cooking after he returned. Growing up in the Queen's district, she never needed or had the conditions to prepare elaborate dishes, so she didn't have to make him wait long. Not long after, she found out that he had a very big appetite, so usually, she didn't need to worry about cooking too much. But there was one thing she absolutely couldn't say in front of him: "It's a shame if you don't finish it," or show a similar attitude. In such situations, he would intentionally—Hilde guessed—leave some food uneaten, even throwing them away before she finished cleaning up. This quirk, combined with some other small things, gradually led her to realize a truth: if reminded directly about something Panthonia needed, he would immediately show a negative attitude.

Following the same reasoning, Panthonia never expressed his preferences for food, so Hilsbeth had to observe carefully. She reluctantly concluded two things: he was almost a vegetarian, and he hated spicy food. She wasn't confident about the accuracy of these conclusions, but she believed that she was at least the first woman to attempt to judge him this way, which made her proud.

For Hilsbeth, living with Panthonia was like walking on thin ice, but even if she accidentally stepped wrong and broke the ice, she wouldn't sink into an icy lake—underneath the thin ice was only a small puddle ankle-deep. He never, truly, scolded her. Compared to the men and women in the Queen's district who often threw bottles, tables, and chairs when quarreling, she felt very—

She still didn't dare to use the word "happy" lightly. Ironically, this was also because they never had a real argument. When she inadvertently upset him, his approach was to completely cut off the possibility of emotional communication with her and issue instructions for improvement. "Throw away the things in this plate." "Don't wear this dress." "Don't go out at this time." Arguments were too direct an exposure of inner self, something he would never do. In the past, Hilsbeth thought this was mysterious, but now she felt it was his self-defense. He never let go of this defensive stance, even when sleeping with her—he always found a way to hold her hand in a manner that seemed to prevent her from swinging her arm in her sleep.

The day she decided to live with him, what Hilsbeth worried most about was his statement "I need you," just a lie, like what Aretta and other women experienced. But the longer they were together, the less she worried about this, because she understood that if this statement suddenly became invalid one day, he would immediately throw her out without any explanation. The hesitations and selfish hopes for leaving traces in the other's heart during a breakup, common in ordinary men, were impossible for him. Since they were still together, that statement was effective.

At work, Hilsbeth never asked him anything, but every time she held his discarded clothes, she was afraid of finding bloodstains—and indeed, she found them several times. She could only try to see them as ordinary dust.

One man entered her life while another left. Since the banquet night, she hadn't seen Phipin again. This not only meant he didn't contact her but also that he stopped going to church, sparking many rumors. Some said Koen sent his son away to study elsewhere. Some said Phipin fell seriously ill and couldn't travel. Of course, these were just conclusions drawn by ordinary people. There were also some who, due to their special status, were closer to the truth.

One afternoon, Hilsbeth was preparing to leave the church and return home. Under the wide arches, she passed by several noble ladies chatting. Suddenly, one of them leaned back and accidentally stepped on her heel with her heel. Hilsbeth squatted down in pain immediately.

"I'm really sorry, I lost my balance just now," the lady turned her head and looked down at her. "Oh, isn't this the distant cousin of Lord Phipin? What are you doing here? I thought you had already returned to your hometown to help manage the family's gold mine—I heard someone say that at the banquet."

Hilsbeth wanted to slap the woman, but to avoid provoking her to continue spreading rumors about the banquet, she said nothing and limped away.

Back home, Hilsbeth felt that her foot wasn't too painful anymore, and there seemed to be no problem walking. Later, while cooking, Panthonia behind her said, "What's wrong with your foot?"

"Huh? Nothing..."

"Come here. Let me see."

She could only sit down in front of him, put her left foot on a low stool, and take off her shoe. Between the first and second toes, there was a small dark bruise.

"What happened?" he asked.

"In the church, a book fell off the shelf and accidentally hit me."

"This doesn't look like something caused by a book."

"Anyway, it's just something hard..."

"Why didn't you let the church staff treat it for you?"

Before Hilsbeth could come up with an excuse, he stood up and took out a small box of medical supplies from the cabinet against the wall.

While helping her with the wound, he said, "Be more careful next time, don't let others step on your foot so easily."

"Okay."

Then one night after dinner, he said to her, "I remember you mentioned wanting to audition for the opera company."

"I just said it casually."

"When you lived in the Queen's District, did you have the chance to see opera performances in the Inner City?"

"...No."

"If you don't even understand it, how can you think you can do it well?"

"I don't know why I said it."

"Tonight, we're going. It's a performance by the Queen's Tribute Opera Company. You have an hour to get ready."

She didn't respond immediately. "But... don't we need to buy tickets in advance?"

"I can arrange regular seats at the last minute."

"Is there a dress code for going there?"

"I told you it's regular seating."

Later, she returned to the bedroom and changed clothes, closing the door. Was this something he had planned in advance, or was it a spontaneous idea? She didn't intend to investigate.

This was the first time they appeared together in public. She couldn't hide her nervousness and almost asked him, "What if someone we know sees us?" But since he didn't warn her in advance, she assumed it was fine. This gave her an optimistic speculation: perhaps soon, he would be willing to openly acknowledge their relationship to his colleagues at the Security Bureau.

At the opera house, they didn't encounter any trouble. Throughout the performance, she held onto his arm, occasionally stealing glances at him. He seemed to pay more attention to what was happening on stage than she did.

The princess and the prince from a foreign land fell in love. Jealous of them, a witch cast a curse to kill the princess but accidentally killed the prince. The princess, relying on her wit, sent the witch to the guillotine before committing suicide herself. The final scene before her suicide was the climax of the entire opera, as the soprano playing the princess captivated all the audience's attention and ears.

In the past, Hilsbeth fantasized about being the soprano standing on the stage right now. In the audience below, there were no longer criminals and drunkards killing time, but people who genuinely cared about her and came just to hear her sing. But now, she no longer needed to fantasize. She preferred to be an ordinary audience member sitting beside him, and that was enough.