Chapter 2: Heinrich's Substitute Fiancée Suspected of Being an Outlaw...

"..."

Heinrich stared incredulously at his fiancée, as if she were Medusa, who could fix him into stone with a single glance.

She was beautiful, incredibly beautiful, with a bewitching and dangerous allure. But she was clearly not the gentle, dignified lady depicted in the portrait; she was more like a greedy and rebellious witch.

Lilith is not a good name—in mythology, Lilith was Adam's first wife who left the Garden of Eden because she was dissatisfied with Adam's domineering attitude towards her. She symbolizes a fallen sorceress who exiled herself and associated with the devil.

"Money-lending" was a grave sin explicitly forbidden by the Vatican. Dante, in his *Divine Comedy*, describes how moneylenders, after death, would be imprisoned in the seventh circle of Hell alongside homosexuals, their bodies buried in scorching sand to suffer divine punishment. The Venetians even called Liliana "Lilith the Moneylender"—what a vicious curse!

Heinrich gasped. No wonder the Knarro family had decided to marry off their illegitimate daughter to the German kingdom north of the Alps—now it seemed more like an exile than a marriage alliance. They probably couldn't stand this spendthrift daughter who had ruined her reputation in Venice and were eager to get rid of her! But absurd fate kept her in Venice, where she unexpectedly met her fiancé in the VIP room of the slave exchange.

He was eager to tell her, "I am Heinrich Schmidl, I am your fiancé"—but when he met her grey-green eyes, he shut his mouth tightly and could say nothing.

Heinrich then realized that Lilith didn't know him at all. Even in Frankfurt, the wealthiest city in the Main River basin, there wasn't a single painter who had mastered the techniques of Venetian or Florentine oil painting. She had never seen his portrait, and their only communication was through the jewels he had given her. Why would she trust a slave she had just met, believing that he was her fiancé?

However, speaking of gemstones… his gaze shifted to Lilith's chest. The emerald necklace he had personally chosen was adorning her slender neck, its color complementing her eyes, making her as beautiful as a nymph from Greek mythology. But his sapphire ring, along with the pigeon-blood red wedding band, should have been stolen by the robbers. How did the sapphire reappear in her hands, embedded with a strange skull? Could there be some other hidden story behind this?

Moreover, Lilith, dressed like this, must be very concerned about her image and self-respect, just like most upper-class ladies. If a group of lowly slave traders found out that a chained slave was actually her fiancé, Lilith would likely lose face and become the laughingstock of the entire city.

Just to be on the safe side, Heinrich decided to leave it at that for now. His immediate priority was to leave this sinful island. Although Lilith was far from the lady he had imagined—more like a spoiled, ill-tempered rich girl whose thoughts were completely unfathomable—she seemed…to quite like the gift he had given her.

"What's your name?" Lilith asked him with a smile.

"...I have no name. Call me whatever you like."

“Hmm… what should we do?” Lilith pouted, then suddenly held up the skull she was holding in front of her and spoke to it in broken German, “Heinrich, Heinrich, my dear husband, what should I name him? His eyes are just like yours, the color of the sky on a sunny day.”

His grey-green eyes swept coldly over the kneeling slave, then turned his smiling gaze back to the skull, staring at the sapphire embedded in the left eye socket—a sapphire pried from Heinrich's ring.

"How about we call him Heinrich too, and let him stay by my side in your place?"

The slave trader looked at her with a puzzled expression, clearly not understanding what Lilith was saying at all. But that didn't matter; he only needed to understand how dissatisfied Lilith was with the last 'goods,' and how she had successfully bargained the asking price of 100 ducats (Venetian gold coins) down to 50. The black-haired, black-eyed maid beside Lilith took out pre-prepared gold coins from her waist pocket, and the chain and key connecting Heinrich's collar were handed to Lilith.

The red-haired mistress, cradling the jeweled skull in one arm and leading her newly purchased pet dog, which towered over her, by the other, walked briskly toward the harbor. She effortlessly hopped onto the black gondola with her maid, then used brute force to pull Heinrich, who was hesitating at the harbor, aboard as well.

Heinrich sat quietly at the stern. He looked back one last time at the island where slaves were sold, observing the positions of the stars and moon and the direction the boatman was heading. He silently memorized the location of the island, the hellish place that bred desire and sin, and that had plunged him into despair. He would never forget the swill-like food, the merciless torture and whippings, and the humiliation of being picked over like a commodity.

One day he will destroy everything here, just as a righteous knight defeats an evil infidel. He will bring all the slave traders who treat human life like dirt to justice, exile them, destroy this industry that treats people like livestock, and make those who have shattered his dignity pay the price.

He gazed at Lilith's retreating figure at the bow of the ship. His fiancée's red hair swayed in the sea breeze, like seaweed dancing in the waves. The self-introduction he had practiced countless times in front of the bronze mirror lingered on his lips, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

The city lights of Venice danced and illuminated the coastline, like a fire burning on the sea. This city of wealth floating on the water was the very heart of a great maritime empire—controlling the entire Adriatic coast, the most important ports of the Aegean, Crete, Cyprus, and even once possessing three-eighths of Constantinople. "Wherever the waters flow, it is Venice's territory," the Venetians proudly boasted. There was no arable land here, no pastures for livestock; only gold, gold flowing endlessly like a tide.

Heinrich had never seen such a wealthy and beautiful city; he was almost dazzled by the ornate and elaborate houses on the streets. Even if you moved Frankfurt's most magnificent palace to Venice, it would seem unremarkable. But in this dazzling city, he was all alone, without a single person he could trust, as isolated as a drifting duckweed.

The gondola navigated the winding path with practiced ease, leading the young mistress and her attendants to a small white door. It was a three-story building, clearly not the palace of the Knaro family, but rather Lilith's private residence.

Black crepe curtains hung on the deep red wallpaper, and the small table in the entryway was piled with black and white roses and white candles, resembling an arrangement of a chaste and virtuous woman mourning her husband.

"Go wash off the cheap perfume on him, change him into some decent clothes, and bring him to my room."

Lilith tossed the chains and keys to the maid and stepped onto the red velvet carpet as she ascended the spiral staircase. Heinrich, on the other hand, was led down to the servants' bathroom.

He was finally able to take off his tattered, coarse clothes and put on a more presentable outfit. Looking at himself in the mirror, the tailored cut accentuated his upright posture, his blond hair was neatly combed, and his straight nose was flanked by sword-like eyebrows and sharp, light blue eyes.

The person in the mirror seemed to still be the same spirited young German nobleman he once was, only the prominent scar constantly reminding him of the torment and humiliation he had endured over the past month. Perhaps it was time to confront Lilith? Heinrich pondered, still somewhat hesitant.

What does aristocratic status truly mean? Is it this silk shirt adorned with silver buttons? Or the scent of roses and musk on the clothes? Is it the inexhaustible supply of gold ducat, or the power to enslave the lower classes?

Heinrich thought of his family. Schmidl, meaning "blacksmith" in German. His ancestors had benefited from the demand for iron during the Crusades, amassing wealth by crafting armor, swords, and shields for the army, eventually purchasing the title of viscount from the emperor. From birth, he had enjoyed a life of luxury, servants, and a good education, never questioning why he possessed it all. Until everything he had was so easily taken away, and then seemingly returned to him.

Even if Lilith truly believed him and considered him the son of the Schmidl family, would she really help him reconnect with the family and fulfill their arranged marriage? The widowed Lilith seemed completely unaffected by her husband's death; on the contrary, she was quite happy. She lived in her small home in Venice, cared for by maids of similar age, and had spare money to buy handsome male slaves from the slave market to provide her with special services and keep her entertained.

If she then knew that her deceased fiancé had suddenly returned, forcing her to end her carefree life, would she be overjoyed to celebrate his return, remember the humiliation he had suffered, and offer him a tender embrace and understanding? Or would she take advantage of the situation and, while she held the power to dispose of her 'slave' at will, execute a stranger who might embroil her in scandal?

"Heinrich, what are you standing there for? Come here."

Heinrich's thoughts were interrupted, and at the servant's prompting, he entered Lilith's room.

The young widow, dressed in a light black gauze dress, reclined languidly on the sofa, holding a large leather-bound book with the Latin word for "ledger" embossed in gold. Her left leg was stretched out and rested on the soft couch, while a dark-haired, dark-eyed maid of Asian appearance was applying beeswax mixed with rose oil and red dye to her mistress's toenails. The sapphire-encrusted skull, which Lilith called "Heinrich," lay quietly on a cushion on a small table beside the sofa, a dagger beside it.

"Cecilia, you can go down now. Heinrich, you help me with the application."

After the maid left, only the man and woman remained in the bedroom. Heinrich knelt on one knee, picked up the silver cup and brush containing dye from the small table beside Lilith's feet, and carefully held the small brush with the silver handle, imitating the maid's actions as he applied the softened red wax to Lilith's nails.

"What were you doing before you came to Venice?" Lilith suddenly leaned closer, carefully observing Heinrich's reaction.

“Uh…something related to fighting and killing.” He gave an ambiguous answer, his hand trembling slightly as he applied the wax, and warm wax dripped onto his fingers.

"Oh? A mercenary? That's great!" Lilith feigned a mournful face, speaking in a coquettish tone, "I'm desperately missing a knight to help and protect me. Just a month ago, my fiancé, Heinrich Schmidl, was murdered on his way to our wedding. I've only just turned eighteen, and now I'm going to live the life of a widow..."

"That's really unfortunate." Heinrich rolled his eyes inwardly and continued, going along with her words.

“The people of Venice love to spread rumors. So many people want to harm me. I haven’t slept well for many nights because of these gossips. Heinrich, please help me?” As she spoke, she gently traced the forehead of the skull on the small table with her pink-dyed fingertips.

"How can I relieve my master's worries?" Heinrich looked up at Lilith, having evenly applied ointment to each of her fingernails, awaiting her next instructions.

"If I could shut those gossipy people up forever, maybe I could get a good night's sleep."

Lilith lifted her leg and gently placed her toes on Heinrich's broad shoulder, smiling sweetly while staring intently into his eyes.

A note from the author:

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