Chapter 13

The man furrowed his brows. Strangely, the words he spoke were not mere breaths. Even his words carried warmth. Like body heat on skin. But it was cool. Ella exhaled as if slowly dropping her breath. She felt so distant that she had no strength to interpret what he meant. From the start, she didn’t have the delicate talent to discern the intentions of such an ambiguous man.

 “Because.”

 “……”

 “You are my woman. What connection is there between me impregnating my servant girl and not loving my child?”

 She slowly opened and closed her eyelids. He doesn’t love the child. Only this was clear. She could hear nothing else. He doesn’t love the child. Only this…… She struggled to try to get up. Larque released the strength in his arms. After struggling, she could face him.

 The man’s silhouette beautifully shone in the evenly received morning light. Ella could draw the baby in it. Eselmund. That child. Because he was that child’s father. It was natural. To be able to draw the child in the silhouette of a father who said he doesn’t love…… said teeth-chatteringly that he doesn’t love the child. Blood ties were cruel.

 “You kissed my belly. Telling me to give birth healthily, healthily…… That you would cherish that child……”

Moisture finally spread across her warmed eyes. Though she didn’t want to cry, her voice trembled miserably. Cruelly, Ella’s tears would burst forth whenever she thought of that child. Now that the father didn’t love them, tears would pour out every moment she pictured the child. Larque wasn’t a good master.

 After making her bear a child, he said without hesitation that he didn’t love that child. To a servant girl, children were like shackles. Their children’s future was as uncertain as their own future. Born borrowing a lowborn servant girl’s womb, if the father didn’t guarantee their status, life for a servant girl’s child would be nothing more than a tragedy no different from their mother’s.

 But you smiled at me. You embraced and kissed my belly carrying your child. Saying you hoped they would come out soon. Telling them not to make their mother suffer while in the womb…… You cherished me just like a wife, like a woman taken as a wife. Ella glared at him with tear-filled eyes.

 “I cherish him. Ella.”

 “Lies.”

 “That child is the young noble of San Parvale.”

 “You said you don’t love him.”

 “I won’t say it twice.”

 “……”

 “That child is precious.”

 ……Being born from your womb will be a blessing for that child. Ella.

 ***

 Have you ever been to a brothel? Among people who imagine brothels, none would imagine it properly. If someone has been to a brothel, they wouldn’t imagine it…… Imagination is useless. Ella had never seen anyone among those who imagine brothels ever picture that place correctly.

 Ella was born in a brothel. Her mother was a prostitute. Though Ella didn’t become a prostitute, the difference between a prostitute and a servant girl was thin. The Queen and her ladies thought servant girls were knights’ whores. Everyone who looked at servant girls broke down even that thin boundary.

 Once the Queen told her to talk about her hometown. She didn’t mean to tell where her hometown was. She meant to talk about that place since she knew where Ella’s hometown was. Ella rolled her eyes to examine the Queen and her ladies.

 The women wore expensive dresses. Fine southern silk that couldn’t be found even in the capital’s most precious goods market and sparkling jewels were beautifully crafted by artisans’ hands to decorate their heads and ears. The Queen wore a golden sarasa dress as bright as her eyes. The woman’s black hair was long and luxuriant, creating a stark contrast with her white skin, and her lips were always a pleasing rose color. With thin gold thread woven with feathers, rubies, and small sapphires adorning her forehead and shoulders half-exposed, she looked more like a beauty from folklore than a queen. The woman smiled suggestively. Even then, Ella was wearing a dress made of cloth. She wore nothing on her head and had no puff sleeves covering her shoulders. The Queen and her ladies all smiled ambiguously before Ella.

 Sometimes it seemed like they were deliberately trying to humiliate her, other times they seemed to sparkle with mere curiosity. Whatever it was, it wasn’t welcome to Ella. The curiosity people directed at her was generally unpleasant and rude. The Queen was an innocent woman. Arrogant and haughty, but naive. And she liked Larque. No, it would be better to express it as love. Ella didn’t know the Queen well. Even without knowing her well, women knew women.

 The Queen had been in love with her master since her girlhood. Even if that love turned to ashes, the Queen would continue to love him. For love that measures its end is not love. The Queen was an ardent devotee of chansons de geste. Even if the endings of the chansons de geste she loved were tragic, the love at least was noble.

‘Ella.’

 She looked up at the Queen who was beautiful like a fairy from a foreign land. There was no rebuke even for the servant girl’s steady gaze. Rather, she only twisted her lips in a smile as if looking at a love rival.

‘Have you ever been to Roland?’

 One of the knights guarding the Queen’s side looked at her. How dare she mention a brothel before the Queen. His attitude suggested he wouldn’t stay quiet if she was disrespectful once more. However, when Ella turned her gaze to him, he immediately blushed. Amusingly, it was the expression of a virgin man meeting eyes with a beauty. Ella found it ridiculous and smiled imperceptibly.

‘Roland is an unimaginable place, Your Majesty. It’s a cold and frightening place.’

‘It must have been very difficult growing up in such a place.’

‘Growing up in such a place must be why she became such a brazen wench.’

 Look at that girl’s legs. Between those thighs…… How she must have seduced the Duke. The ladies-in-waiting picked up the harsh words the Queen couldn’t say. The blonde woman sitting beside the Queen was said to be some Count’s daughter. The woman laughing and agreeing beside her must also be the daughter of someone of high status. The Queen burst into laughter surrounded by her ladies. The eyes that had pitied her like an orphan until just now sparkled cheerfully.

‘What difference is there between a servant girl and a wh*re?’

 The lady’s plump lips moved quickly. Ella could only bow her head. The Queen’s laughter resembled bird chirping. Larque always maintained proper form when dealing with her. He would bow his smoothly muscled back and kiss her white hand. The Queen’s eyes were enraptured. Eyes that were indifferent and dry when looking at the King would invariably curve when turned to Larque.

‘Adela. You shouldn’t say such vulgar things.’

 The lady’s fan covered her mouth. Her long brown curls and blue eyes were youthful and fresh. She knew that woman. Marquis Gwendel. She was a woman who had hovered around Sir Endymion, who was Larque’s cousin. She may have danced with him several times at balls and exchanged pleasantries, perhaps secretly hoping for marriage, but Sir Endymion had not set his heart on that woman. In fact, he had never shown attachment to any woman except Marie. Last spring, Sir Endymion held his wedding ceremony with a woman from a jockey family serving the Marquis’s house. At that time, Marie smiled. Ella still didn’t know why Marie smiled.

‘Your Majesty. His Highness Duke Durac requests an audience.’

 The Queen’s maid entered, pulling back the transparent curtain. Ella turned to look at the maid. Beyond the maid’s shoulders was a massive door. And beyond that would be Larque in his formal attire. To meet the Queen. Ella thought of Larque holding the Queen’s hands. It wasn’t something fabricated by adding and cutting non-existent facts, but the image of the two people she had seen some time ago. The Queen loves Larque.

‘Tell him to come in.’

The Queen adjusted her sleeve from where she sat before standing to arrange her skirt. Two maids rushed over to quickly tidy her appearance. Finally, Duke Durac stood before her. The ladies-in-waiting who had been fluttering their fans neatly clasped their hands together. The young women’s cheeks were red and alluring. Ella stared at him stiffly like a rag doll. He first directed his gaze at his servant girl who had become like a rag doll. Ella kept her head bowed, only looking down at the marble floor of the palace.

 ‘Master of Lo and Rondal. One who received divine teachings.’

 These were titles used to address the Queen of Kylaq. Even if they were all false, praise for royalty didn’t need to be truthful. Praises venerating the Queen flowed from Larque’s lips. Was it necessary for saying he came to see her to be so verbose? It was a greeting long enough to be tedious.

 ‘I heard you were looking for my servant girl.’

 Cracks began to form in the Queen’s faint smile.

 ***

 The journey up to the Royal Capital was not as arduous as the path going down to the border through the northwest. Perhaps it was because her heart was at ease. Compared to the path coming down after leaving the baby behind, the road back to the Royal Capital was like a newly rich person returning home in glory. And the Royal Capital remained the same. Ella pictured in her mind the water willows she had seen when leaving Roman. The sight of trees growing even in water. If she returned to her child, that was the only gift she could give him. Beautiful and valuable things…… There was nothing else but that.

 “Eselmund!”

 Ella walked as if running. When she returned to the Duke’s castle, it was early evening. As soon as she returned, she went to the Duke’s bedroom where the baby was. Her young son whom she hadn’t seen for months took precedence over a servant girl’s manners.

 Even if the head maid were to scold her, Ella couldn’t stop her steps. It was a place she dared not walk without the master’s summons. It was an offense that couldn’t be excused even if beaten to death.