Let Her Be Free

At another intersection, Chiba got out of the car to buy several newspapers and magazines featuring Hesta's picture. She then got back in and handed them to her.

Hesta flipped through them page by page. In the articles within these publications, a "Jane Hesta" appeared, making her feel utterly unfamiliar.

This girl not only shared her name but also entered the abbey at the same time. Furthermore, she was described as gentle, devout, and possessing a compassionate heart from birth, like a Madonna.

The articles were filled with numerous details, vividly portraying life in the abbey. It seemed the reporter must have interviewed the children who survived Saint Anne Abbey. However, anything related to Hesta was heavily mixed up. For instance, Flosang had found a squirrel with bloody wounds on the day of the incident, but in the article, it was Hesta who discovered it first. Not only that, but Hesta, who was always gentle, thrifty, and humble, was also said to have taken the initiative to organize the other children to pray for the deceased small animals in the absence of the nuns.

Hesta didn't understand. "Why are they writing such nonsense?"

Chiba's car passed the civic square at that moment. The sudden commotion not far away made Hesta involuntarily turn her head.

In front of a tall monument, countless people stood, waving flags or holding homemade corrugated cardboard signs. As the angle changed, Hesta saw many people holding her portraits or photos—the very ones featured on countless magazine covers that day.

On the fluttering flags and signs, people had written in thick red or black paint: "Let Her Be Free!"

Beneath the monument, someone was giving an impassioned speech. Due to the distance, Hesta couldn't quite make out what the speaker was saying. She saw many police officers standing not far from the crowd, their arms crossed, watching the demonstrators silently.

Perhaps because the speech was nearing its end, the person on the elevated platform suddenly began to wave their arms and shout. The crowd in the square instantly erupted with a world-shattering roar: "Let Her Be Free!"—"Let Her Be Free!"—"Let Her—Be Free!!!"

Hesta looked at Chiba. "What are they doing?"

"They're demanding the United Government step forward and negotiate with AHgAs."

"Negotiate... what?"

"They hope AHgAs will leave you alone, let you return to a habitable zone to live like an ordinary person, and avoid becoming a tool for fighting against Chelated Beings in the future," Chiba replied, straightening up to check the road ahead. Seeing what seemed to be a traffic jam in the distance, she began looking for an opportunity to turn around.

Hesta asked, "Why are they doing this?"

"Who are 'they' you're referring to?"

"...The people in the square," Hesta said softly. "I don't know anyone there."

"Ha," Chiba replied meaningfully, "That's naturally because 'someone' wants 'them' to do this."

Hesta thought for a moment. "The United Government?"

"Mhmm," Chiba responded. "Although AHgAs is a completely independent organization, a significant portion of our funding comes from the regional United Government's budgetary allocations and private donations... The public image of the region directly affects our budget for the coming year. Whoever can leverage this point can put pressure on us."

Through the car window, Hesta looked back at the crowd in the square again. The distant crowd was continuously erupting with even more fervent shouts. These sounds grew smaller as Chiba's car sped up, and the sides of the road entered a brief period of quiet.

Upon entering the old town, the city began to liven up again.

Hesta saw a continuous stream of pubs, bakeries, small supermarkets, and shop windows displaying new clothes. On the open spaces along the street, brown or dark blue tables and chairs were set up. People sat chatting under large umbrellas, with various cups and snacks on their tables, and laughter frequently erupted.

Due to the strict speed limit in the old town, Chiba's car slowed down considerably, giving Hesta more opportunities to observe the beautiful old city. Unlike the fairytale-like colorful row houses seen earlier, the buildings here were more solemn, and the color palette was more subdued and elegant.

Bronze statues were visible everywhere, in the streets and alleys. Their names and birth and death dates were inscribed on their patinated bases. Eroded by rain and wind, the statues' surfaces were mottled, displaying a dark and cold beauty that had endured the passage of time.

Chiba stopped in front of a bakery and unbuckled her seatbelt. "Let's go, let's get something to eat first."

"I already ate at the base this morning—"

"I haven't," Chiba said, already getting out of the car. "It would be a miracle if the food at the base was good."

Hesta followed Chiba out of the car. She looked up and saw the words "White Ship" carved on the wooden sign overhead. Next to it was a string of characters Hesta didn't recognize—likely a translation of the shop's name in another language.

The moment they pushed the door open, Hesta was enveloped by the sweet aroma of butter, so rich and mingled with the fragrance of coffee that it made her feel as if she had suddenly arrived in paradise.

She silently followed Chiba, gazing at the dazzling array of bread and cakes in the glass display case. Under the soft yellow lighting, the solidified cream and frosting looked exceptionally alluring. She couldn't help but slightly lift her sunglasses to get a closer look, until her breath fogged up the glass.

After ordering three croissants and a cup of coffee, Chiba turned back. "What do you want to eat?"

Hesta was taken aback for a moment, then became a bit flustered. She hesitated for a long time, pointing her finger, and finally pointed to a small cake on the top shelf that had both strawberries and raspberries. "Th-this one."

Chiba turned back and said to the shop assistant, "One strawberry fruit tart, and two cannelés."

The two soon sat down at a spot against the wall inside. One side was a stone wall, and the other faced the street. The street-facing side was fitted with a large pane of stained glass. Through the window, everyone on the street appeared as a faint, blurry silhouette.

Hesta's fruit tart and Chiba's coffee were served shortly.

"Eat. Don't wait for me," Chiba said.

Hesta held her breath and picked up the cutlery beside her. Her knife cut into the cake's center twice, creating a small triangular piece of about sixty degrees.

"Who taught you to use a knife and fork?"

Hesta paused. "Sister Gurdin at Saint Anne Abbey."

"Not bad," Chiba said, propping her cheek with her hand and watching Hesta eat. "I've been coming here for over five years, and I still can't get used to using a knife and fork."

As she spoke, a server approached with a large white plate, on which Chiba's three croissants were arranged. She pulled out a paper napkin from the wooden tongs beside her, placed it down, and picked up the bread directly.

Neither of them spoke further.

It began to rain outside, the raindrops pattering against the colorful glass wall near Hesta's hand.

The wind chime at the bakery door rang, and a mother and daughter pushed the door open. After a brief stop at the ordering counter, they also soon sat down nearby.

The mother held her daughter's hand and carefully placed a jet-black violin case on the chair beside them.