Charity Chaos

If the chaotic crowd is a collective body, then the gunshot is the most effective sedative. Those entangled in scuffles froze, still gripping each other's clothes. The person who climbed onto the table squatted abruptly at the sound of the gunshot, then recoiled slightly, but his knees remained bent. A mirror fell and shattered on the ground, unnoticed. Nuns, who had stayed in the monastery, unwilling to get involved, huddled at the windows, eager to witness the events yet afraid to expose themselves. Like most, Dalia quickly identified the source of the gunshot and turned her gaze in that direction.

A man stood at the entrance on the east side of the lawn, flanked by two armed guards. His hands were clasped behind his back, surveying the scene. His eyes swept over those nearby, silencing them further. When he spotted Dalia, his gaze lingered for a moment.

"I see what's happening here," he said. "A brawl in front of the monastery?"

The crowd remained silent. Even without the warning shots, based on attire and tone, they would have known he was someone authorized to give orders in such situations.

"I'm waiting for an answer," the man said, his gaze seemingly inadvertently returning to Dalia.

"Who are you?" Dalia asked. The citizens, including the Duchess, focused their attention on her, as if she were the least likely person to ask questions in this situation.

"Prosecutor Ivanov Gallmont. If I'm not mistaken, you're Lady Dalia. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I'm holding a charity sale," Dalia said. "But things aren't going well."

"I know it's a sale. Saw the flyers you distributed. Given the chaos, there must be a reason. —You there, sir, where are you going? Please stop and slowly put down what's in your hands. In fact, no one is allowed to leave here until I give permission."

"Not allowed to leave? Who gave you that right?" the Duchess said.

"This woman," Daisy pointed at the Duchess. "She's the one who incited these people. It's her."

Ivanov glanced at Daisy, then turned to the Duchess. "I recognize you. The newlywed of Duke Remington, right? It seems you're being accused." He paused for a moment, walked up to the Duchess, and continued speaking. "As for your question... it's the right given to me by the people of this country, madam. As a member of the National Prosecutor's Office, I can't turn a blind eye to such widespread disorder. Now it's your turn to answer my question: did you cause this disturbance?"

"Me? Ridiculous. I was just here to observe, about to leave..."

Daisy was about to speak, but Ivanov gestured for her to remain silent. He then shifted slightly to the left and addressed the citizens.

"Everyone, sometimes silence is a crime. Indeed, I decided to fire a warning shot only after observing for two minutes. Undoubtedly, your current actions seriously disrupt public order and even carry criminal elements, giving me reason to arrest all of you immediately. Even if you choose to run home for a brief respite, you won't escape accountability. However, given that you haven't caused actual harm yet, I can offer a milder solution: set down the things in your hands that weren't obtained with currency and, with confirmation from the seller, quietly leave. It's the only way to avoid punishment. Remember, be honest. I hope you all remember which items you paid for and which you didn't. Listen well: if anyone continues to attempt keeping something not rightfully theirs, this incident will be classified as collective crime. Now, do as I've said."

Immediately, people began acting on his words, much faster than the Duchess's earlier incitement. The first person righted the table that had been overturned, then placed a pair of knives and forks from his pocket onto it. The second person surrendered a small teacup. The third not only handed over items but also assisted the staff in putting them back into the box. Dalia then noticed that what they were attempting to take were just cheap household items. Even the canvases covering the artworks, though lifted, remained neatly stacked. Strangely, someone surrendered a few chess pieces—only a few. Whether through instigation or persuasion, they quickly accepted, unconditionally obeying someone of clearly higher status—something they were familiar with and adapted to in their lives.

Unbeknownst to Dalia, the rain had suddenly stopped.

"Duchess, do you have anything to return?" Ivanov said.

"Nothing," she turned her head, calling her servant to her side. "We're leaving."

"Wait," Ivanov said. "You see, everyone realizes their mistake and is trying to remedy it. Perhaps you should do something."

"I have nothing to do. It's been said; it has nothing to do with me. You can't expect these foolish commoners to do anything good..."

"Apologize to Lady Dalia."

"What did you say?"

"Duchess, though I observed for only two minutes, I'm afraid you're too agitated. I heard your voice even while on the path here. I didn't catch the whole conversation, but I believe the commotion started after your words. Instead of facing detention and interrogation shortly after your honeymoon, an apology is a much better choice. If Lady Dalia finds your apology sincere enough, I might consider not reporting this."

"What's your name, Ivanov? I'll make sure my husband knows how disrespectful you are!"

"Oh, although Duke Remington did intend to join the prosecution—unfortunately, he failed the judicial exams twice in a row—but regardless, he's someone who diligently memorized legal codes. I believe he would agree with my handling of this situation."

The Duchess raised her head, her lips downturned, and her eyes slightly trembling. She glanced at Dalia, then turned her gaze back to Ivanov. From Ivanov's unchanging expression, she knew there was no other choice. She approached Dalia, stopping several yards away, and then uttered monotonous syllables, "Sorry." At this moment, she still held her head high, facing a tree's leaf pattern on its side, as if silently evaluating some leaf vein design.

"Such an apology is hardly convincing. Sincerity, madam," Ivanov said.

The Duchess, who had intended to turn away, took a few steps forward, forced herself to look into Dalia's eyes, and said, "Lady Dalia, I apologize for my words and their consequences. Please forgive me."

"Lady Dalia," Ivanov said. "Do you accept this apology?"

"No, I don't accept," Dalia shook her head. "But you can leave."

She looked into the Duchess's eyes, understanding the retreat. The woman who had just caused chaos suddenly placed herself in the victim's position in an instant. She almost wanted to cry, as if it were her and not Dalia whose property had been plundered. She pursed her lips, turned around, and left. The attendant hurriedly caught up.

Dalia didn't feel much relief; she was just tired and irritated. She called Daisy to help pack things, then said to Ivanov, "Thank you." The words were spoken without a trace of gratitude or excitement for the help. Without waiting for him to say anything, she sat down on a chair behind her, letting the back support the right side of her body, and used her left hand to wipe away the rain on her face. When Ivanov approached, she didn't lift her head.

"Lady Dalia, that scene just now was very unpleasant. May I ask if you have any grudges with that lady?"

"No." She was too lazy to explain whether it was "I don't know" or "no."

Ivanov pulled another chair in front of her and sat down. "Do you know me?"

"You introduced yourself just now, Lord Prosecutor."

"I actually came here specifically for you."

"No... that's too personal. These words are a bit hard to say, especially after what just happened... but they must be said. I was assigned by the prosecution to investigate whether there are any illegal activities in your charity organization's fund circulation. Overseeing this charity sale was the first step in my job, but I didn't expect..."

"Oh," Dalia nodded. "You're here to arrest me. So, you had to drive her away first."

Ivanov sighed, gazing into Dalia's eyes, silent for a moment.

"Aren't you here to investigate? Why sit here doing nothing?"

"I can tell you've been distressed for many days. Perhaps now isn't the best time for business talk, especially after what just happened."

Dalia wanted to say, "What isn't the right time for?" but kept quiet. In her heart, she felt no gratitude for Ivanov's actions, but learning that he was here to investigate her buried that slight sense of gratitude beneath frustration. At least disappointment would be felt, she thought. It's much better than feeling nothing at all.

"I'll be straightforward. The prosecutor's office received multiple reports, suspecting your organization of mishandling orphan care expenses and fundraising sources..."

"No need to repeat it to me," Dalia interrupted. "So what are you waiting for? To interrogate me? To lock me up?"

Ivanov, as before, remained silent, looking at her for a while. Dalia avoided his gaze.

"Listen, this is not the job I want. I know you wouldn't do things like using benevolence to conceal personal gain. In this investigation, I need your complete cooperation, but it's also to ensure your rights are not compromised. I also need to gather enough evidence to prove these reports are false."

"Why do you think I wouldn't do the things you mentioned?"

"I've been doing this unpleasant job for several years now, and honestly, I believe more in character and experience than strictly following legal procedures. Although you don't know me, I've attended your fundraising events and even made anonymous donations. If I had to describe the atmosphere of those gatherings with one word, it would be 'hope.' Both the participants and yourself had eyes full of hope. I've encountered hundreds of individuals seeking personal gain, and they would never have those kinds of eyes. I trust my experience. Now that hopeful feeling has temporarily disappeared from your eyes, but that's just because you're too tired. After going through so much, anyone would be fatigued. How about this, I'll go have a nun arrange a room for you. You should rest for a while."

Dalia was about to refuse, but hesitated for a moment. Ivanov placed his left hand on the back of her right hand, which was resting on her knee. She considered pulling her hand away immediately but hesitated again. Ivanov's touch was gentle; as he pressed his hand against hers, he exerted a slight force, allowing her to feel his thumb sliding slightly into the palm from the side of her index finger and then releasing it gently. He stood up and walked towards the monastery.