Editing City Series:Volume5b Chapter14 (section)

===Beretta’s Journal: Today’s Entry #1===

I’m writing this on the train to Bourgogne. Rosetta is with me.

I felt a little too overjoyed in the morning, so I have to work to stay calm. I’m taking this trip to deal with a number of issues, not to remember what happened and laugh.

Last night, I did a lot of important things and a lot of things I shouldn’t have done.

I may have altered history in the most incredible way.

This is a change to history that only a woman can make. And it’s a change that won’t go away.

It’s undoubtedly scandalous and it’ll definitely cause some problems later. Back in ’88, a female transfer student came back bearing the child of a diligent Nazi officer, but Nazi hunters later shot her and the kid to death.

I don’t know if I’m pregnant yet, but I committed a forbidden act regardless.

Especially because the Missel family died out with Phillip Missel’s death. What if I gave birth to a descendant of his now?

That would be a serious problem. Even though I’d been taught plenty of ways to refuse and make excuses. But…

<“I want to talk about a number of things.”>

When he said that with such a serious look on his face, there was nothing I could say. We sat on the bed together and he told me how he was in the Resistance and what his plans were. I had learned in the future what would become of everything he was talking about.

But the entire time I listened to him, I stared at the right arm he was resting his cheek on.

<His arm was wrapped in bandages to hide the last traces of his broken bone.>

He had gotten that injury protecting me during the Heavy Barrel battle at the school festival.

I’m so weak-willed. I shouldn’t have let that bother me and I should have ignored what would happen to him and just kicked him out of my room. I had plenty of reason to do that.

But there was only one reason why he had been there.

For the first time in a while, I realized how little independence I had. When I thought about it, I realized that my grandma had used my curiosity to push me into going to Paris. I needed to stand up for myself more.

And if I could stand up for myself, maybe I could have asked for what I wanted instead of just letting him take the lead last night.

“You can do whatever you want as long as you’re gentle.”

That’s not asking for what I want. I bet he thought I was cute as could be when that little shriek escaped my lips after he touched my butt.

Although he was pretty cute too.

<He opened the box on the floor, pulled out the dress, and laid it on the bed.

He laid me naked on top of it and spoke.

“My grandfather apparently did it like this with my grandmother.”

“Is getting a pretty dress dirty one of the privileges that comes with being Chevalier de Paris?”

“There’s nothing else to keep your sheets clean.”>

I couldn’t believe how dumb that was, but I let him do it because I knew he was just trying to be nice.

He never talked much and he isn’t the type to compliment people, but maybe that was what made this all so hard. I’m not sure. I hope my waist and whatnot looked okay. If only I had a perfect body like Rosetta.

But what was I thinking when he rolled me onto my stomach so he could see everything? And what was I thinking when he held me to lift up my hips and I held him back?

I’m not sure.

I may have only been thinking about making sure I didn’t scream.

<When it was over, I removed my hands from his back and saw blood on my nails. I must have dug in a little too hard.>

He may have been thinking the same thing. I bet we were both hurting each other without thinking we were doing anything wrong. But at the same time, we were begging each other to gradually close the distance that had developed between us.

I wish I had asked him why he protected me during the Heavy Barrel battle. That may have resolved some of my doubts. But it’s too late now and it wasn’t really the time for questions like that.

I feel no guilt about what I did. Is that a bad thing for someone who came here to help the world?

But when he held me close, when he placed the dirty dress back in the box, when we fell asleep together, and when I ineptly made him some breakfast, I knew what mattered most: that I would never forget this world and that it would always be important to me even after I said goodbye to them all. When I confessed I had lost the ring, he just rubbed my head without saying a word.

Maybe physical things like rings aren’t what matter.

And I realized something while writing all this.

I want to be a part of this era.

I didn’t sleep with Phillip out of pity because I know he’s going to die. I never would have let him go all the way if that was why. These things are important to me too. And there are some things you have to do because they’re important.