On Christmas Eve in 1915, at Moderford Estate.

My family gathers around the table for dinner, just like every Christmas season before. Whether at Aries Mansion or Moderford, the food is sumptuous and extravagant, resembling a royal feast. Perhaps a part of me will deeply regret not being able to savour these dishes anymore. But I am also weary of such extravagance. Soon, I will forget them, along with the people sitting at this table.

I rest my hand on the table, supporting my chin, and my eyes gaze at my husband sitting across from me. He is halfway through a cold piece of meat. It must be said that not only Augustin, but all the men when adorned in military attire, seem to elevate their appearance. There is something both masculine, powerful, and intellectually emanating from them. Suddenly, I burst into laughter, which makes the remaining people feel strange and uncomfortable. Even I don't understand what is happening to myself. Since the moment Augustin forced himself upon me, something has changed in my thinking and behaviour. I will remember his words for the rest of my life, that I will always be dependent on Augustin and this family. Those words seem to have triggered something within me, something I had never dared to think of.

"What's the matter with you?" Augustin furrows his brow, looking at me. My parents-in-law also lose their appetite when they see my puzzled and elated expression. I don't answer but pick up the fork. I gaze dispiritedly at the sausage on my plate. I playfully swirl the fork around it, then I raise it to my mouth but quickly bring it down without touching my lips. My unusual actions leave an unsettled feeling in the hearts of those in the house. Lady Rose angrily puts down her unfinished spoonful of soup and asks, "What has happened to you?"

"Nothing, nothing at all!" I shrug my shoulders in denial. "It's just that I feel like something is missing..."

"Is it your lover?" my husband contemptuously remarks. "Too bad he's still at the front lines."

"It's not that..." I dismiss my husband's attacks. "I think we are lacking in prayer."

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"Prayer?" Mr. Lionel furrows his brow. "What kind of game is this now?"

"On Christmas Eve, we usually pray together for blessings. Given the current circumstances, I think it is even more fitting!" I slowly explain.

"What circumstances?" Lady Rose is surprised.

"We are in the midst of a war, mother!" I look at her earnestly. "How can we know if this is not the last time we sit at this table together?"

My words slip from my lips, followed by the sound of metal touching porcelain. Augustin drops the fork he was holding onto the plate. Even my parents-in-law's faces change in hue. They all look at me with strange and repugnant eyes. Lady Rose angrily scolds, "What do you mean, Fiona?"

"I don't mean anything. I just think about what could happen, which is why I want our family to pray together," I mumble, then turn back to the untouched sausage on my plate. The three of them exchange a glance, as if communicating in an enigmatic language unknown to me, and decide to ignore it and continue. My mother-in-law decides coldly, "We won't pray for anything. Let's eat."

I give a fleeting smile and say nothing more. The evening feast at my home continues slowly and blandly. Later, we gather in the living room to listen to music and Christmas programs on the radio. Tomorrow, when dawn breaks, Augustin will board the vehicle and return to the barracks.

I sit reclined on the long chair, holding a glass of brandy. I sit amidst them, in an atmosphere of liveliness that I do not belong to. My gaze wanders up to the light blue wall. I have never taken the time to observe it before. Astonishingly, my entire husband's family suddenly vanishes from my sight, as if evaporating into thin air. Now, there is only me and this vast room, with everything remaining intact. The radio is still playing, the anvil softly tinkers against the gusts of the winter breeze, sneaking through the cracks, and the curtain of snow descends, obscuring the view. On the wall, a crack slowly reveals itself. I hold my breath and watch it gradually descend. I had forebodings about this, but I was too afraid to acknowledge them. But finally, I know what I must do.

What I should have done a long time ago!