Please Forget Me - Chapter 179

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“Still, seeing you hesitate and not speak right away makes it clear that you’re definitely not a spy.”

As the major muttered this with satisfaction, I realized that the reason he had given me time was because he was doubting my true identity. It was truly absurd.

But where, and by whom, am I being watched?

I thought I should take a better look around when I return, but it all seemed pointless. After all, thanks to me being taken instead of him, the man avoided immediate arrest. I had bought him time, but I already knew that buying time wouldn’t change my fate. So, it was all rather futile.

“I’ll handle things here, so you…”

There was no reason to keep me here instead of him, so the major was preparing to send me back. Just then, the door to the right of the hall slammed open, and a middle-aged man with glasses stuck his head out.

“You’re late, Major.”

The sharp look he gave the major suggested that he was a person of very high rank. When he saw me standing in front of the major, his glasses shifted as he furrowed his brows.

“You said it was a man, but why is it a woman? Anyway, we don’t have time, so come in.”

The man stepped outside, heading straight for the large door at the end of the hall. He was telling me to go inside? Stunned, I stayed where I was, and the major, seeing my hesitation, nodded toward me, signaling for me to follow.

“You’ll just play a song and come back.”

It was as if he had forgotten that he was supposed to make things easy for me, now urging me to go.

I stared at him for a moment, and then, as he glanced at the man sending him a sharp look, the major reached out and touched my shoulder, nudging me forward.

Startled, I involuntarily took a step.

Then it hit me.

‘He told me not to play the violin.’

I still didn’t know why. And I couldn’t trust that man. I didn’t have to follow him now, but I stopped in my tracks. The man walking ahead turned around to look at me. With his sharp gaze, I finally mustered the courage to speak.

“U-uh… I don’t have a violin.”

“That’s not something to worry about.”

My hastily made excuse didn’t work. The man signaled for me to keep walking and warned me in a condescending tone.

“And when you’re in front of His Excellency, only answer the questions asked. Don’t speak first.”

As I reluctantly started walking, the man asked from behind.

“What’s your name?”

“Rize Renner.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that name before. What’s your husband’s name?”

“…Johann Renner.”

“Ah, the new speechwriter at the public relations office.”

When I stopped in front of the door, the man knocked.

“Your Excellency, the performer has arrived.”

“Let them in.”

When the low, rough voice from beyond the thick door gave its permission, the man opened the door.

At that moment, the elderly man sitting behind the large, polished desk lifted his head and looked at me. His gaze was so sharp that even from across the spacious office, I felt overwhelmed and unconsciously looked away.

“A woman?”

The prime minister seemed just as surprised by this unexpected meeting. He shot an irritated glance at the assistant standing beside me.

“I hadn’t heard that the new performer you recommended was a woman.”

“I had suggested a man, but it seems there was a mistake, Your Excellency. Should we send her back?”

I wished they would, but the prime minister silently studied my face for a moment before asking for my name and marital status. When I answered truthfully, he gave a small smile and said something odd.

“Your husband must have pushed you in here.”

“No, that’s not it.”

I cautiously countered, trying to gauge his reaction.

“My husband was recommended by Major Felkner, but he’s in class right now, so I’m here in his place.”

I hoped the prime minister would realize it was all part of Felkner’s scheme.

“Hm… A couple of beautiful people, both skilled in the violin. Quite impressive, in many ways.”

His gaze softened as he looked at me, but it still felt ominous…

“Well, since you’ve come all this way, let’s hear you play.”

The prime minister lowered his gaze back to the documents he had been reading, and I, unsure of what to do, saw the assistant gesture to the darkest corner of the office.

There, in the corner by the wall, was a music stand and a chair.

Reluctantly, I opened the violin case, which wasn’t even mine, and took the instrument in my hands. I glanced at the sheet music on the stand, but of course, there was no piece I recognized.

Strangely, I could read the music, but just because I could read it didn’t mean I could play it. I flipped through the pages, feeling at a loss. The assistant cleared his throat, signaling for me to start. Finally, I picked something at random.

‘Just pretend to play.’

If I made a mess of it, I’d get some scorn and probably be laughed at, but at least they’d let me leave sooner.

I began playing, stumbling through the notes as I tried to follow the music. I had decided to make it a disaster, but playing an unfamiliar piece, without practicing, in front of such powerful figures—people I had never met before—made my mouth dry, and my hand holding the bow and strings began to tremble.

The prime minister’s eyes, still fixed on the documents, began to narrow. Then, the moment I missed a note, he scowled and shot me a sharp, cold glance. In that instant, I couldn’t help but think:

‘I’ll be slapped if I mess this up.’