Silver Lining Yesterday - Chapter 3
A dim light flickered above the desk.
Sitting in the chair, Nix rummaged through the scattered papers on the desk when his eyes landed on an old photograph.
The faded black-and-white photo showed three people smiling side by side.
In the middle, the woman was Jean Rohrbach. She had a wide smile, her arm draped around the person next to her.
The woman dangling on Jean’s right arm was Gemma Heidegger, who, according to stories, couldn’t live without her. Unlike Jean, whose smile was natural and beaming, Gemma’s lips barely curved upward and her expression stiff.
Finally, on the far right, there was a tall man, his arm around Jean’s shoulder.
Nix stared at his smooth smile, which unnervingly resembled his own, yet something he could never replicate.
If color had been present in the photo, the man’s eyes would likely have been a soft green, like the delicate sprout of a new plant, not the deep crimson shade Nix’s own eyes carried.
At the bottom of the photo was a date stamped in black ink:
<July 12, 1898>
The time when Jean Rohrbach was the unmistakable face of the revolution.
Gemma Heidegger and Ernest Garland, the two friends who had been with her since childhood, seemed destined to support Jean, as if bound by fate.
Even though they were scattered across vast battlefields, they were forever tied by the threads of destiny, and though they hadn’t been born on the same day, it seemed as though they would die on the same day.
From the perspective of someone knowing the outcome, it all seems like a naive thought.
Nix ran his dry fingers over the marks in the photo from being torn and pieced back together.
Like the marks that separated Jean from Gemma, the destinies of the three had been torn apart.
Gemma Heidegger was left alone, and the whereabouts of Jean and Ernest were lost for so long…
Nix cut off the trail of thought and stood up. For some time now, the sound of a labored cough had echoed through the room.
He crossed the darkened carpet and, pulling back the canopy of the bed, found Jean Rohrbach, her face red and struggling to catch her breath.
Leaning against the wall at an angle, Nix gave a mocking smile.
“Isn’t it about time you gave up?”
“Go away…!”
He was sorry to the angry, desperate person, but it was no more impactful than a cat’s harmless swipe.
Leaning back with arms crossed, Nix casually watched her disheveled state and glanced at his wristwatch.
“It’s been 34 hours since you woke up from the seal. At this point, I think it’s time to accept reality.”
“Go away!”
With all her strength, Jean clenched her neck, veins bulging, and threw a pillow at Nix. As Nix tilted his head to dodge the pillow, she sprang from the bed like a swift cat.
But the moment her bare feet touched the carpet, she tripped, her foot caught by Nix’s outstretched leg.
Nix swiftly grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling and forced her back onto the bed. He then pulled a chair over and sat directly in front of her.
With her legs wedged between his muscular thighs, and his knee supporting Jean’s weight, Jean found herself unable to move.
Jean bit her lip and glared at him sharply.
Her sharp eyes flickered.
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“…”
“You’re telling me to believe that 23 years passed while I was sealed away, just because you say so? I’d rather you say I died, you filthy kingdom soldier!”
Jean hurled the blanket in her hands.
Nix easily twisted his head and sighed and tied up her wrist in annoyance.
It wasn’t surprising that Jean, who had fought fiercely against the kingdom’s forces, would be stunned by the kingdom’s emblem on his military uniform.
However, repeating the same explanation over and over was beyond frustrating for Nix.
“Hey, I’ll explain one last time, so listen carefully.”
Nix furrowed his brow, trying to calm his irritation.
“The revolution you started ended long ago. The tyrannical king was executed, and the kings who followed are nothing more than powerless puppets. I’m a soldier of Alderon, but I’m not part of the forces you need to oppose. Got it?”
“…”
“It seems like you can’t accept that you’ve been sealed for 23 years…”
Nix shifted his hand, lowering it from her wrist to press his elbow into his thigh.
His muscular torso leaned forward, creating an imposing atmosphere.
“So how to explain this face that looks just like Ernest Garland, the one you loved so much?”
As Nix loomed, his figure becoming larger against the backlight, Jean appeared small and fragile in the shadow cast by him.
Her doe-like eyes, seemingly trembling with fear of the physical disparity between them, flickered faintly.
But was it an illusion caused by the shadow?
Her previously weak gaze sharpened, and a voice, too clear and distinct, cut through the air.
“Please, refrain from using the word ‘love.’ It’s revolting, and it makes it hard for me to answer.”
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