Chapter 3
I followed the man to Naval Headquarters.
The horrifying sound of the execution still echoed in my ears.
After walking for some time along the road on the opposite side of the harbor, a large modern building came into view. The neatly laid tiles beneath it shimmered in the sunlight.
As soon as we stepped inside, a burly soldier built like a bear spotted the man and hurried over.
He immediately snapped a crisp salute.
“Colonel, you’ve arrived.”
The man returned the salute briefly, and the soldier lowered his hand before glancing at me.
“And who is the lady with you…?”
The man introduced me simply as the family member of a deceased serviceman.
The soldier immediately moved to guide me.
“Ah…! Then right this—”
The man raised a hand to stop him.
“I’ll take her.”
“…Sir?”
The soldier’s tiny eyes widened.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly with his thick hand before stepping aside.
“Y-Yes, sir…”
As we descended toward the basement, naval personnel bustled through the corridors in every direction.
Whenever they spotted the man, they immediately stopped what they were doing to salute.
Afterward, they couldn’t help stealing curious glances at me as I followed behind him.
But none of that mattered to me.
“Have the other bereaved families already come? It seems… I’m the only civilian here.”
“Most of them have already finished.”
The man answered while opening a door at the bottom of the staircase.
The same thing happened here.
The sailors respectfully greeted him one after another.
As we continued walking, another officer approached.
“Commander, we’ve recovered all the belongings from the Balt Fleet. They should all be delivered to the families within the scheduled period.”
Commander…?
The titles everyone had been calling him since earlier nagged at the back of my mind.
Colonel.
Balt Fleet.
Commander.
It didn’t take long before I realized why those words felt so unsettling.
Johannes Schultz…?
I looked up at him in shock.
My lips slowly parted.
A faint gasp escaped them.
“You’re… Young Duke Schultz?”
At my hesitant question, he raised an eyebrow.
Then he looked down at me with his usual indifferent gaze.
“If you’re asking about my birth status… then yes.”
His answer was short and matter-of-fact.
“…My goodness.”
For a long moment, I stood frozen, unable to speak.
I had thought I was the only one carrying unbearable grief.
But the person who had suffered the most was standing right in front of me.
Not only had he been forced to witness his own father’s execution with his own eyes…
He had also endured the condemnation of everyone gathered at the harbor.
So how…
How could he remain so calm?
How could he face something so painful without trying to look away?
“How can you—”
“You’re wondering how I can act as though nothing happened?”
I slowly nodded.
Johannes Schultz answered not with words but by resuming his walk.
We proceeded silently down a long, spotless white corridor.
Eventually, he stopped before a door.
His hand rested on the doorknob as he spoke.
“My father committed a crime, so it’s only natural that he receive the punishment it deserved.”
He paused.
“That’s what he taught me.”
I unconsciously inhaled.
Not the slightest tremor shook his voice.
It was as though he were discussing a complete stranger.
Someone whose fate had absolutely nothing to do with him.
“But… how can you not question it even a little? What if he was falsely accused—”
“Would that change anything?”
“…What?”
He slowly turned toward me.
His blue eyes met mine directly.
“A soldier obeys the orders of the supreme commander, regardless of the reason.”
He looked away again.
“And right now, that commander is the royal family.”
I couldn’t answer.
Perhaps I was imagining it…
But for just an instant…
I thought I saw sadness flicker across his eyes.
“This is the morgue.”
His expression had already returned to its usual impassive calm.
“Are you ready to identify the body?”
Instead of speaking, I slowly nodded.
He turned the doorknob.
The morgue was noticeably colder than the rest of the building.
The sharp smell of chemicals mixed with the odor of decaying bodies, creating a nauseating atmosphere.
Slowly looking around, I found the bed bearing my father’s nameplate.
“The body is more severely decomposed than the others. It won’t be pleasant.”
“…That’s alright.”
I swallowed.
“I need to confirm with my own eyes that it’s really my father.”
My confidence lasted only until I actually saw him.
“…Urgh.”
The moment I laid eyes on the corpse, nausea surged from deep inside me.
I clamped a hand over my mouth and hurried back outside.
Only after spending several minutes struggling to steady my breathing did another feeling overwhelm me.
Disgust.
Not at my father.
At myself.
How heartbroken Father would be…
After gathering my courage once more, I stepped back into the morgue.
My father’s body had deteriorated so badly that it was almost impossible to recognize.
A sickening odor clung to it.
Dark purple blotches covered parts of his skin.
The sight was horrifying.
And because of that…
A terrible doubt struck me.
Could a body this badly decomposed truly be my father’s?
“…Is it really him?”
I wasn’t expecting an answer.
I only needed to say the words aloud.
To force myself to face reality.
Johannes remained silent.
I carefully examined the unmoving body before gently taking hold of its hand.
It was the first corpse I had ever touched.
The skin was damp.
Unpleasantly slick.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the sailors stationed inside the morgue quietly turning away, unable to watch.
But I had no room to care about anyone else.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
The body held not the slightest trace of warmth.
Only now did the truth finally sink in.
Father is really gone.
Then…
I realized something.
This hand…
It wasn’t like the one I remembered.
I quickly lifted it and examined it more closely.
“…This isn’t my father’s hand.”
I immediately looked toward Young Duke Schultz.
His brows rose slightly.
I hurriedly explained, stumbling over my own words.
“My father’s… my father’s right index finger is bent. I’m certain of it! Which means… which means my father might still be—”
I couldn’t finish.
At that moment, the only sailor who hadn’t looked away besides Johannes cautiously spoke.
“Well… I’m not sure if I should mention this, but… during decomposition, swelling can temporarily make a bent finger appear straight.”
“But—”
“The personal belongings recovered from the body all belonged to Petty Officer Prim.”
Johannes interrupted quietly.
He handed me a wooden box sitting in the corner of the room.
“Ah…”
The tiny hope I had clung to vanished instantly.
An overwhelming emptiness wrapped around me.
So it really was him.
Inside the box lay my father’s belongings.
His naval badge engraved with the name Isaac Prim.
His uniform.
The handkerchief I had embroidered and given him as a gift.
The moment I saw them, the emotions I had barely been holding back surged violently.
The tears I had desperately restrained threatened to spill over.
I opened my eyes as wide as I could and bit my lip hard.
Clutching the burial cloth covering my father’s body until it wrinkled in my fists, I fought to hold myself together.
Meanwhile, the sailors quietly left the room one after another.
Only Johannes Schultz remained beside me.
Then I heard his low voice.
“You can cry.”
It was such a simple sentence.
But because it came from someone carrying the same grief I did…
It comforted me more than anything else.
Whether he had intended it or not.
In the end, the tears broke free.
I collapsed beside my father, burying my face as sobs poured from me.
Johannes hesitated for a moment.
His large hand hovered awkwardly in the air…
Then slowly began patting my back.
For a long time…
I cried beside him until there were no tears left.
Only after finally regaining my composure did I finish applying for the death insurance with Young Duke Schultz’s assistance.
If my father Isaac Prim’s life could be measured in money…
The amount was pitiful.
“Only six million Berk…?”
Having to discuss money immediately after sending my father off felt both absurd and miserable.
But I was still alive.
And the living had to continue living.
“Petty Officer Isaac Prim’s insurance payout wasn’t large to begin with. He frequently took advances on his military salary, and he was only an enlisted soldier.”
“But if he hadn’t gone to war, he wouldn’t have fallen ill in the first place!”
“I’m only a low-ranking clerk.”
The soldier waved his hand impatiently.
“Arguing with me won’t change anything. If you’re really desperate, try pleading with some high-ranking officer you happen to know.”
“But…”
Those who had died lonely deaths fighting for their country…
The value placed on their lives wasn’t even equal to what high-ranking nobles spent on luxury in a single month.
“If you keep this up, you’ll only make things difficult for us. We have to explain the same thing to every family.”
The soldier glanced around to make sure no one was listening before lowering his voice.
“The amount Duke Schultz embezzled was enormous. There’s barely any money left to pay compensation to the families of the fallen.”
His response was stiff.
Almost rehearsed.
It sounded less like an explanation…
And more like he wanted me to blame the Duke of Schultz.
That only made it harder to believe.
He insisted that every bereaved family of the fallen had received similarly meager compensation.
Then, practically shooing me out the door, he ended the conversation.
When I finally returned home, the mailbox was overflowing with letters.
Most of them were overdue tax notices.
Utility bills.
“…Ha…”
Poverty wouldn’t even allow me the chance to properly grieve my father’s death.
Before I could spend even a little time remembering his final moments…
I had to earn money.
Reality refused to wait for mourning.
