Chapter 42

 Nevertheless, Guinevere couldn’t let him go. Even if she didn’t want to like him, the heart wasn’t something that worked according to one’s will. This silly infatuation. It seemed like she could discard it so easily if she wanted to. As much as the motive for harboring this affection was vain, it should be nothing. Why was it like this? Why had it degenerated so foolishly?

 It was futile. Guinevere looked at the woman in the mirror. I wouldn’t mind if that man doesn’t love me, but I wish he wouldn’t love anyone. Then I might feel less miserable. Less sad. No one possessing that man and that man loving no woman. Thus, complete and flawless. Like a preserved creature. Beautiful without blemish……

 The door opened. Guinevere stood up and faced the Duke. Her fingers moved toward the opal sparkling between her collarbones. It was a shameful thing. Whenever she stood before this man, she turned into an ignorant child. What actions she should take, what expression she should make to not appear awkward. She wanted to appear as a sensual and mature woman, but her mind turned white.

 The Duke narrowed the distance. Guinevere stared at him, even breathing was burdensome. Desire, greed, and passionate longing that lurked insidiously heated her eyes with fervor. She moved her dry lips and neatly folded her hands.

 The Duke wore a neat formal attire even at this late hour. The thick neck between the navy silk wrapping and the neatly tied cravat looked splendid. The texture of the fabric and the dark-colored cloth made the Duke’s overwhelming presence even more elegant and sophisticated. How could such a magnificent creature be born?

 How could this man love a woman? It seemed like he wouldn’t love anyone. If he were to love someone, it seemed like he could only rightfully love himself.

 Yet, yet a mere bedchamber maid. A girl who is nothing more than a lowly slave can warm this man’s bed, conceive this man’s child, and become the mother of that child, enjoying luxury? Why. Why is it just a mere bedchamber maid who possesses this man? Why does he love such a prostitute and make her miserable?

 “Your Highness.”

 “Duke.”

 “In less than a day, you’ve detained my bedchamber maid.”

 “That is.”

 Guinevere’s white face distorted. It felt like the sound of her heart crumbling and scattering echoed in her ears. She cast her gaze to the floor to finish her pale face. The Duke took one more step closer.

 “Search.”

 “Duke.”

 “Send your servant from the queen’s chambers after midnight when dawn approaches.”

 “How dare you!”

 The queen’s eyes widened. Although the Duke had cut off her words many times before, it had never been as humiliating as now. She glared at him, trembling. Even when she put strength into her eyes, the Duke stood stiffly pale. He would have no one to fear. Even before crossing the strait, she had heard much about the Duke’s force. Wasn’t he the husband of the founding queen and the heir of the family that ended the dynasty with his own hands?

 There would be nothing for him to fear, even from the queen. Moreover, if it was a woman known as a frivolous fox from a foreign country. Nevertheless, Guinevere was simply angry. She hated the man who didn’t give her even the slightest gap to dig into, and she felt pathetic for not being able to let go of him even in this situation.

 “Guinevere.”

 Like a cool wind winding through mountain ridges. It was a low and dark, yet clear voice.

 “Search. I will send the ornament you’re looking for in the hands of your servant.”

 “W-What… Ack!”

 Her neck was grabbed. As she stepped back without thinking, her head hit the wall. With a thud, a heavy headache rushed in. The queen, pushed against the wall, opened her closed eyes and panted. Even though her cleavage was clearly visible, the man was just white and dry. Shamefully, only she was trying not to show a disgraceful appearance with a flushed face.

 The man didn’t even glance below her neck. The hand pressing her neck was larger than she thought. Guinevere looked down at the man’s hand pressing her neck. The veins were standing out, but in reality, the force in his hand was weak. He didn’t seem to intend to kill her, but still, her knees felt weak. She trembled with chills and her eyes turned red.

 “And if the truth is different from what you intended.”

 The ashen eyes with their locks tightly shut were like the beak of a raptor. The Duke chose his words for a moment. When she grabbed her pressed neck and moaned, he narrowed his eyes. Guinevere stared at him, dropping tears.

 “I will punish your bewitching old woman.”

 His hand was released. The cool and oppressive gaze remained the same. Guinevere bent her waist, coughing. Rough coughs burst out. Shamefully, her lips were covered in saliva. While she caught her breath, holding her pressed neck, the Duke turned his steps. Barely preventing tears from leaking out, Guinevere called out to him.

 “Duke!”

 His feet stopped. His shoulders trembled slightly. Guinevere straightened her back with a flushed face. Lingering attachment, which could no longer be called stubbornness, made her look foolish as it clung stickily.

 “Why, why such……”

 “I don’t know what you mean.”

 The Duke smiled slightly. It was an elaborate smile like a mask. Delicate and elegant, but deceptive. Perfect and complete. Completely crushed by the mockery covered in one layer, Guinevere collapsed completely. She didn’t understand why he was so precious. She had disliked this land from the beginning. Even after living here for over a decade, she couldn’t find anything good about it.

 Not all companions matched through political strategy were cherished just because they were from Treden. Even her father and mother mocked each other, sharpened their blades, and bared their teeth, didn’t they? Her mother fell in love with her father’s knight, and her father became lovers with her mother’s noble lady-in-waiting.

 That was the face of a couple who had found a point of convergence. But what was this country? The spectacle of dedicating pure love to a bedchamber maid of slave origin, talking about chastity, and obtaining heirs. The custom of recognizing such half-illegitimate children as proper heirs. She wanted to laugh. She was desperate to mock it thoroughly.

 “To be so restless with your heart stolen by a slave. Was Durac so perfect as to make such a half-wit child their heir? Duke. That’s arrogance.”

 “It’s better than seeing a child from the womb of a Rung barbarian woman.”

 The Duke smiled. He was a man not easily provoked. It was unexpected, as it seemed like he would writhe wildly and twist his face like when he pressed her neck. He mocked her with a smile so sweet it was delicious. A Rung barbarian woman……

 It was a reference to herself. The queen twisted her face like a demon and rushed at the Duke. She couldn’t forgive insulting her homeland. Also, reducing her status as a princess to a mere barbarian woman…… Larque gently held the wrist of the woman who raised her fist while clutching his chest.

 “Let go of me!”

 “This wild behavior like a thundering naked one ends here.”

 “Do you dare insult the queen with your mere mouth? Do you think you’ll be safe after this…! Ack!”

 “Guinevere.”

The woman looked up at him. Innocent eyes. He rewound to the moment when he first met this woman’s eyes. They were eyes filled with clear desire. Every time the girl’s eyes shone brightly, he thought of his girl who was stuck in the Duke’s castle throwing tantrums.

 He thought it would be nice if she desired him with shining eyes like this foreign princess instead of her tightly closed lips. Aren’t they about the same age? Wasn’t she old enough to see him as a man? Why doesn’t Ella desire him? If he could buy even a little of that child’s heart, he would cut off his own flesh and give it to her.

 “Don’t try to shake Durac with shallow tricks.”

 “To make such a fuss just for detaining a mere servant girl! It’s not even funny!”

 Guinevere gritted her teeth. Larque grabbed the woman’s wrist and went to the bed. The woman was dragged along helplessly and tumbled onto the bed. Her neatly arranged nightgown became disheveled. Guinevere stared at him with a tear-stained face. Larque, who had stepped back two paces to look at her, whispered softly.

 “That woman is a part of me.”

 *** 

 The locked room was quite a spacious storage room. In a storage room again after just one day. It wasn’t even funny. If she hadn’t been so ill-tempered despite being a lowly girl, she wouldn’t have ended up like this every time. Ella looked at the small arched window. She wondered if she could break it with her hands, but even if she could, there was no way out. Perhaps a knight trained through rigorous training could, but Ella, being merely a woman, couldn’t attempt to escape through the window.

 Guinevere had asked the king for permission to search the bedroom assigned to her. He could have refused, but the king had no particular reason to do so. Ella took a deep breath to calm her uncomfortably beating heart.

 She missed Eddy. Her Eddy. Her one and only baby. They say she could have more babies, but no child born would ever have the same meaning as Eddy. Eselmund was the first piece of Larque that Ella carried.