9.
One day, the house collapsed.
Some might call that incoherent, but it was an undeniable fact.
The Boellony family of Anita Boellony had fallen in a single day. All for nothing more than a false charge.
“That’s how it is, Anita.”
Vlad, the middle-aged man delivering the news, wore a grim expression. As a longtime business partner of her father’s, Vlad had been a familiar face since the days Anita was still learning to walk.
He used to visit once every season, a thick file folder tucked into his steam-powered carriage. Those visits were always welcome.
He would bring one gift after another—luxuries that weren’t easy to find—like imported tin-canned cookies, foreign dolls, and delicate hairpins.
‘But today’s gift is…’
It hurts.
It hurts so, so very much.
“Uncle. Then, Father is…”
“I haven’t found him yet. Since he hasn’t been found, don’t ask about the details, and don’t try to find out. Living while pretending you don’t know is my advice to you. I’m sorry.”
Her father had gone on a business trip and vanished. And now she was being told to live while pretending she didn’t know.
To pretend not to know about her only family?
Having come of age four years ago, she was set to have her belated debutante next month. Her father was supposed to be Anita’s first dance partner.
[Don’t fall for men who are only smooth talkers, Anita. Guys like that just view a young woman like you as a plaything. Find someone who is sincere even if they aren’t talkative, someone who speaks only the truth even if they aren’t affectionate.]
Ever since she approached her debutante, he had repeated that mantra to her.
He really had.
Vlad, who had been rummaging through his inner coat pocket, handed her a clean business card.
“It’s the contact information of an acquaintance of mine. They should be able to find you a decent job. I’m saying this just in case, but never set foot in places like brothels. That will corrupt your soul.”
As she stood there unable to react, just staring, Vlad let out a deep sigh.
“Stay strong, Anita. You have to survive, don’t you? Even if it’s unfair, what can you do? That’s just how human life is.”
Vlad forced the business card into her hand. Then, he left without even looking back.
Anita scanned the house with dazed eyes.
Strong-looking men swarmed in and began clearing out the traces that had been with the Boellony family for generations.
The large watercolor painting her father had brought back from an auction.
The cherry wood display cabinet that held the tableware.
The white porcelain sitting on the dresser.
“Hey, move out of the way. You’ve been an eyesore for a while now.”
Someone brushed past her, bumping her shoulder hard. Anita stumbled, eventually slumping against the wall and sliding down to the floor.
Everything happening before her eyes, and every emotion she felt, seemed hazy, as if she were trapped in a dream.
How much time had passed?
A reddish sunset began to settle over the sky that had been blue through the window.
In the mansion, now devoid of even a shred of warmth, Anita slowly picked herself up.
Even in this state, she was hungry. She walked sluggishly to the kitchen, but it was a disaster, as if a typhoon had swept through it. After rummaging for a long time, she found a few pieces of dry, hardened bread in the cupboard. It was old food the servants had set aside for bird feed.
‘It’s hard.’
It was much harder than the beef jerky she had tasted out of curiosity a long time ago. Having filled her stomach as if chewing on paper, she closed her eyes and drifted into thought.
‘Collapse.’
There must have been many who wished for the downfall of the Boellony.
‘False charge.’
If so, who among them had framed the family? A cousin? A business partner? An enemy?
‘Father.’
As she recalled his sharp-eyed face, the tears she had been holding back finally poured out.
‘Nanny. I miss you.’
Anita buried her face between her knees and wept aloud for a long time. It was more painful to hold it in than to let it go.
She felt bitter toward her father for disappearing and leaving her behind, yet she worried for him, terrified that he had vanished without a word. If he couldn’t return, she wanted him to be alive somewhere, even if it were in a distant land. Yet, at the same time, she desperately hoped he would walk through that door to overcome this crisis with her.
‘What do I do now?’
The Boellony mansion had been seized.
Even if she managed to sleep against the wall until tomorrow, the day after was the real problem. Once the sun rose for the second time, she would no longer be able to stay in this house.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have relatives.
‘Malina unni. Aunt Alexandra…’
But they would not help Anita.
Her father had loathed the relatives who clung to him like ants to benefit from his favor. She couldn’t imagine those who had endured her father’s coldness would show pity to Anita.
If so, where should she go?
‘…The business card.’
Anita unfolded the card Vlad had left behind. Because she had been clutching it so tightly, it was crumpled like a piece of waste paper.
It was a business card for a recruitment agency.
Would the servants who had left the Boellony mansion one by one, after seeing her situation, also be gathered here?
‘Even if I visit early tomorrow morning, I won’t have a place to sleep for the time being.’
Tap, tap. Small raindrops formed circles on the windowpane and shattered.
On a summer afternoon when a downpour had fallen.
Anita suddenly became alone.
***
The Boellony family was a line of businessmen and landowners without a title.
That didn’t mean they lacked contact with the aristocratic upper class.
Anita’s paternal great-uncle was the master of the time-honored Bartlet earldom and a secular lord, and her cousin-in-law was the Baron of Livonia. If one had to be specific, the Boellony family belonged to the ‘lower-tier upper class without a title.’
Still, their wealth was nothing to be ashamed of.
As the only daughter, Anita was inevitably in a position to inherit the family fortune and take in a son-in-law. Since that was a condition sufficient for poor secular nobles to push their sons forward, some of Anita’s nominal friends were children of nobles.
Friends who would turn their backs without a glance once she lost her wealth.
“Haa. This is so strange.”
Riiip. A page of a notebook filled with pitch-black cursive was torn out without hesitation.
She didn’t even know how many pages had gone by.
In one corner of the room that used to be Anita’s bedroom, there was a pile of crumpled scraps of paper.
They were all unfinished letters.
Anita, who let out a long sigh once more, collapsed onto the floor. She massaged her stiff eyes and scanned the room.
All that remained in the spacious house were a few bags containing her belongings and a small desk clock.
“I only wasted my notebook.”
The letters she had spent the entire night writing were all requests for help to her friends. But in the end, she couldn’t complete a single one.
Perhaps it was because she knew no one would respond.
‘No. My previous thought was too short-sighted.’
Not everyone would ignore her request for help.
Yes. There was one person who didn’t belong in that category.
‘Lancelot.’
I want to see Lancelot.
It had been three years since Claunia left. He was the only one left for Anita to rely on.
Lancelot Edenbahir, whom she had spent the last ten years with, would be different. No one knew that fact better than Anita herself.
But she couldn’t possibly…
“…Alright. First, I’ll go to the employment agency. I have to go and show my face so I’ll have a chance to work.”
Let’s do what we can. Being mired in despair wouldn’t solve anything. Time wouldn’t wait for her.
***
The first thing Anita did upon arriving at the agency was change her clothes.
She realized belatedly that her garments were unnecessarily antique and high-quality compared to the other women hoping for employment.
It wouldn’t do her any good to draw attention to her circumstances. Anita carefully scanned the inside of the agency, stepped into a narrow storage room, and changed into the most subdued outfit she owned.
‘I’m glad I packed my suitcase in case of theft.’
A white shirt and a navy-blue long skirt.
This shouldn’t be too out of place among the women.
Smoothing out the wrinkles of her clothes, she waited for her turn in the interview room. An elderly lady with a prim expression handed her a number tag and said in passing.
“You’re lucky, miss. In times like these, you usually have to wait at least a week to get an interview at our agency. Is it that hard to find a job?”
A week. Even if she didn’t show it, she was inwardly surprised.
‘If it weren’t for Vlad ahjussi, I would have been homeless for sure.’
She would have to send a letter of gratitude once she got a job.
Soon, it was her turn.
“Miss Anita Boellony? Please come in.”
Anita took a steady breath and stepped into the director’s office.
Beyond the thick tobacco smoke, the interior of the spacious office came into view. The head of a stuffed yak, a carpet that looked like it had been brought in from the distant East Continent, metalwork in strange shapes…
Anita’s intuition told her: it wasn’t going to be an easy interview.
“Have you ever held a rag?”
Just as she thought. The first question was aggressive.