Between Your Letter and My Reply

Chapter 17

[Translation By Divinity]

Damian knew the address by heart, having memorized it over the months of exchanging letters. However, it had been three months since he last replied to Lintray’s letter.

Her last letter in February had the same address, but… it was already the end of March. Had anything changed in the meantime…?

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Damian rose from his seat on the train.

“Edenfallen! This stop is Edenfallen!”

The conductor announced the arrival. Damian stepped off the train, confirming the “Edenfallen” sign on the platform.

It felt strange to think he was actually in Edenfallen.

Although Paul had given him a train ticket to Nichio, the capital of Istarica, Damian had transferred at an intermediate city to reach Edenfallen. He had come directly from Lebe to Edenfallen.

He could have settled in the capital, taken some time to breathe, and then gone to Edenfallen, but he didn’t want to.

He wanted to go to Edenfallen as soon as possible. So he had arrived, but…

‘What if I get turned away for showing up unannounced?’

Worries flooded him belatedly.

‘I don’t look too bad, do I? I got a haircut a few days ago, so I should be presentable. Ah! But what do I say about my arm?! Maybe I should have gotten a prosthetic before coming here…’

Damian considered quietly returning to Nichio. But the thought of Lintray being nearby made him unable to bear it.

With his initial enthusiasm slightly dampened, Damian walked briskly out of the train station.

She had said it was a tiny village, and indeed, the station was very modest, and the scenery outside was nothing but fields.

A single carriage was waiting outside the station. There was no way a tram would run in a place like this, so the only public transportation was a carriage.

Damian had no choice but to approach the carriage. Hearing his footsteps, the coachman, who had been dozing off on the driver’s seat, woke up and looked at him.

“Where are you headed?”

Damian hesitated for a moment before answering the coachman’s question.

“I’d like to go to the mansion at 14 Philpos Street.”

The coachman frowned and asked again.

“14 Philpos Street? What business do you have there…?”

The question’s intent was puzzling. *Why would he ask why I’m going there?* Damian paused for a moment, then replied,

“I’m going to see a… friend.”

“A friend? Who?”

Damian grew increasingly uncomfortable with the coachman’s interrogative tone. ‘Why is he being so nosy when all he has to do is take me to my destination?’

“Do I have to tell you that? Forget it. I’ll wait for another carriage.”

As Damian turned away, the coachman quickly spoke up.

“No, no! That’s not what I meant… I was just wondering if you knew the situation there.”

“Situation?”

Damian tilted his head in confusion, and the coachman clicked his tongue.

“Seems like you don’t know. No one lives there anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a big fire a while ago, and the whole place burned down. I don’t know who your friend is, but the owner and a maid died, and their daughter was severely injured and taken to a hospital in the capital, I believe.”

Damian’s face hardened at the coachman’s words.

“…What?”

“Judging by your reaction, you didn’t know.”

Damian shook his head.

“When did this happen…?”

“Let’s see… About three weeks ago? Around that time.”

It was while Damian was unconscious and hospitalized.

He had assumed Lintray’s persistent letters hadn’t arrived because he was in the hospital…

No, he had asked Paul to discard all letters addressed to Second Lieutenant McCord, so it was natural that he hadn’t received any. But so suddenly?

Damian felt his blood run cold. He asked the coachman urgently,

“You said the daughter of the house was taken to a hospital in the capital?! How badly was Lady Lintray injured?!”

“What? Lintray? What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“It seems your friend is Lintray, but she was the maid in that house, not the daughter.”

“What?”

“You must have gotten something wrong. Anyway, if the Lintray you’re talking about is the maid from that house, she’s dead.”

Damian’s thoughts stopped. His brain couldn’t process what the coachman was saying.

He stared blankly, then asked the coachman again.

“So… what does this mean…? No, then who was the owner of 14 Philpos Street?”

“The owner was Baron Lloyd Benbrick.”

“Isn’t it Lintray?”

A foolish question slipped out of Damian’s mouth. He had never heard the name ‘Lloyd Benbrick’ before.

“I told you, Lintray was the maid who worked there.”

“Then what’s the Baron’s daughter’s name?”

“Seyra Benbrick.”

That was also a new name to him. Seeing Damian’s face grow pale under his bandages, the coachman clicked his tongue.

“It seems there’s been some confusion. Anyway, three people lived in that house: Baron Lloyd Benbrick, the owner; Seyra Benbrick, his daughter; and Lintray, the maid who had no surname. Seyra was taken to the capital’s hospital, and the other two died. Is that clear now?”

Damian was even more confused.

He didn’t know if the person he had been exchanging letters with was Seyra, the Baron’s daughter, or Lintray, the maid, but the Lady Lintray he knew had lied. But why?

“S-Still, can you take me to 14 Philpos Street?”

Damian hurriedly climbed into the carriage and urged the coachman.

“I need to see it with my own eyes.”

“Well… if you say so…”

The carriage started moving with Damian on board.

Damian held his confused head and fell into deep thought. ‘Why did she lie?’ Whether the person he corresponded with was Seyra or Lintray, it was full of questions.

If Seyra was indeed ‘that Lintray,’ he could understand her fabricating her identity.

But he couldn’t understand why she had to use the maid’s name, Lintray, instead of creating a completely new one, like Damian did.

On the other hand, if Lintray was ‘that Lintray,’ then why did she write as if Seyra’s experiences were her own?

“We’ve arrived.”

The rattling carriage stopped in front of a charred mansion. Damian got off and stared at the remains of the house with a stunned expression.

“Huh…”

There was truly nothing left of Baron Benbrick’s mansion. The roof had collapsed, and the second floor was mostly crumbled. It looked like it could collapse at any moment.

Despite the danger, Damian approached the house.

“As you can see, this house was in such a remote location that the village didn’t know about the fire until it was too late. So it ended up like this before anyone could do anything… Hey, wait! It’s dangerous!”

The coachman, who had been speaking as if making excuses from behind Damian, tried to stop him from opening the front door. But Damian ignored the warning and entered the house to look around.

There were hardly any traces left to recognize the original interior. The second floor looked too dangerous to go up, but it probably wasn’t in any better shape than the first floor.

After a quick look around, Damian returned to the coachman and asked in a dazed voice,

“The village headman’s son… his name is Glenn… right?”

“You seem to know little about what happened here, yet you know that? Do you know him?”

“I don’t know him, but is it possible for me to meet this Glenn?”

Damian pleaded earnestly.

If he couldn’t find any clues about the situation here, he wanted to talk to Glenn, the only person mentioned in the letters who might have some information.

But the coachman shook his head.

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“He didn’t want to inherit the family business and went to a port city to learn about trade. He’s not in this village right now.”

Come to think of it, Lintray’s letter had mentioned that. Damian slumped like a puppet with its strings cut.

It felt like his last hope was disappearing, but Damian was persistent.

“Then can you at least take me to the village headman? He’s the one who knows the most about this village… right?”

“That’s true, but… I’m not sure if he’s home right now. Get in. I’ll take you there.”

The coachman gestured, and Damian glanced at the mansion once more before getting into the carriage.