#V. The Queen

 The Marquis slapped his wife’s cheek. Ella couldn’t speak for a while after hearing that shocking news. The servants said that bright red blood had dripped at the entrance of Gwendel’s tent, but by morning, the blood drops that had seeped into the dry soil were no longer visible. Ella searched for the Marquis’s camp after his stewards had left. And she stared at the blood drops on the long leaves of the weeds that grew askew. She recalled the previous night. Around dusk, there was a commotion outside the tent.

 She thought she heard a scream, but at that time, Ella couldn’t go outside. She was panting, pinned under a long body. Even though she knew the scream came from Marie’s throat, she couldn’t push the man away. She sighed. The Marquis had loaded his servant girl, who was bleeding, into a carriage and then slapped his pursuing wife’s cheek. It wouldn’t have been a good sight for anyone to see. Her head throbbed even before hearing the full story. Had Marie given birth to a stillborn? If she had delivered a dead child, who should be blamed?

 However, the banquet continued even after the Marquis returned to his castle. The young king piled up several red deer, roe deer, and young martens that he had caught over three days at the entrance of the tent. When the second prince’s slight fever subsided, the royal consort visited the king belatedly and wiped the sweat flowing from his forehead, and the king kissed her cheek with eyes that could hardly contain his love.

 The queen received two martens and a dead roe deer from the king. Even though she was a princess from an enemy country and nothing more than a byproduct of a treaty, she was still the queen, so the king treated her adequately.

 And the rest belonged to the royal consort. When the king took the lead in showing how to treat legal and secondary wives, the knights more lightly divided the dead animals and presented them to their servant girls. Since the Duke of Durac had no legal wife, everything he caught with his own hands belonged to his bedchamber maid. Ella looked at the dead animals piled at her feet.

 Even when he glared at her with angry and cold eyes, Larque stretched his neck and faithfully brought the dead animals to Ella. When she thought that he might be doing this hoping for praise, she clasped her hands together and pretended to be moved.

 “Can I make leather shoes from the marten?”

 These were the kinds of questions she asked. The animals with broken necks weren’t a particularly good sight, but Ella endured the disgust rising inside her. Pleasing the Duke was a rare experience for her, so it was very difficult to act like the graceful woman he spoke of.

 But until the end of the banquet, the Duke did not thaw his coldness. Compared to how that night had ended, he was clearly holding back his anger. Anyway, it was very difficult for Ella. Night after night, she apologized for making mistakes, but the man remained cold. Just thinking about how their relationship might worsen in some form when they returned to San Parvale made her feel suffocated right away.

 But more than that, Ella was devastated by the trust she had overthrown with her own hands. The distorted eyebrows. The wounded gray eyes beneath them. Were her words cruel enough to leave a scar on him? She didn’t know. I don’t want to think about it. She shook her head alone in the room. The last day of the banquet welcoming the safe return of the knights had dawned.

 Jugglers and melodious minstrels came to the evening banquet that started late. As always, Ella watched Larque from a distance. The king danced once with the queen in front of her attendants, and as soon as it ended, he quickly ran to the royal consort and didn’t leave her side. The royal consort enjoyed the king quickly sitting beside her and kissing her.

 And the queen’s eyes were always directed toward Larque. Ella stared at the queen while holding Eselmund behind Larque. Every time her gaze turned to the Duke, she wanted to pluck out those shining amber eyes. The queen, who had danced to the dance music with the king, approached her.

 “Ella.”

 “Yes.”

 “Almas has presented good wine, would you like to join us?”

 The queen asked. Almas was a granary region that produced the highest grade of wine in the kingdom. Even barley beer, if it came from Almas, was displayed and sold in a plausible appearance. There was a saying that even a dying old man wouldn’t refuse wine from Almas. But regardless, Ella didn’t like alcohol. She didn’t know how to drink it, nor did she have the sensibility to enjoy its flavor.

 “Other servant girls will also attend. I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if you were the only one.”

 It was a kind question. Perhaps it was an invitation possible only because she was a foreigner. To bring a slave, not even her husband’s bedchamber maid, to the royal chambers. It was an action that no one would understand. But she couldn’t refuse. The queen’s voice was sweet as if coated with honey, and thus her kindness had something suspicious about it.

 “But.”

 Baroness Laerik, who was standing nearby, carefully responded to the queen. Ella grabbed her wrist and shook her head. It was a favor. Perhaps it was an apology trying to make up for what had happened at the hunting ground.

 “I’ll go.”

 “His Highness the Duke won’t allow it.”

 “He’ll understand since it’s Her Majesty the Queen’s call.”

 “But……”

 “Please take care of Eddy. And please tell His Highness.”

 She handed the child she was holding to the Baroness. The queen smiled thinly. Her smooth white face turned around. Ella followed the queen to her chambers. The queen’s chambers were located quite far from the king’s main palace. Perhaps because it had been her residence since she was a girl, the queen walked without hesitation as if entering and leaving her home country’s palace.

 “You didn’t start without me, did you?”

 It was a lively voice. When the queen entered the palace, the maids and noble ladies rose from their seats. The smile that bloomed on her white face was innocent and cheerful. Ella looked at the candlesticks and flowers decorating the long dining table.

 Amid the silver trays neatly arranged, foods that would serve as snacks were pleasingly placed among flowers boasting their rich beauty. The queen familiarly squeezed between the seats of the noble ladies. Even among the noble ladies, more than half were the queen’s companions who had come with her from Treden and Kylaq’s tributes who had married into and naturalized from Treden.

 “Sit down, Ella.”

 The queen said in a friendly manner. Her appearance, soaked in a girlish smile, was very different from what Ella had seen in the forest. Which side was her real face? Ella looked at her with dark eyes and then sat down in the seat she indicated.

 The queen is an eternal foreigner in Kylaq. A princess of Treden, which had always been at odds across the strait over trade routes. A byproduct of treaties and agreements. A position that was merely a figurehead and a seat with a good appearance. Even the women who laughed with the queen every time didn’t treat her sincerely. It was obvious that she had no one to open her heart to except for the maids she had brought with her when she first came by ship. Ella watched as the queen picked up a small glass. There were various types of alcohol. Befitting the queen who was said to like parties and gambling, there was no alcohol she hadn’t tried. The drink in the queen’s hand rippled with a bright green color.

 “Everyone, say hello to Ella. She’s the Duke’s ‘bedchamber maid.'”

 The queen laughed. Ella couldn’t laugh. She couldn’t laugh even with determination. She knew what kind of gathering this was, yet she had followed along of her own accord. With frustration building up and nothing to do, Ella just quietly stayed in her seat. Wondering if there were other servant girls besides herself, she rolled her eyes.

 “Nice to meet you, Ella. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

 Someone spoke to Ella, who was looking for a familiar face. A woman who remembered her. Though it wasn’t surprising, Ella stared at her intently. Adela. Was that her name? Yes. That’s what it seemed to be. One of the few noble virgins of Kylaq origin among the queen’s close associates. She had heard that she had married into some family’s eldest son a few months ago, but she couldn’t remember.

 “Adela. Adela de Eins.”

 “Yes, Lady Eins.”

 “Oh my. It seems you know I got married.”

 “Yes. I heard.”

 “From whom? Do you know which family?”

 She was at a loss for words. The woman was quite persistent. To the point where one might wonder if there was a need to mix words with her. But there was no reason for that. Ella carefully considered the woman’s question. She knew nothing about noble families. She only knew where major nobles like Count Clegar or Marquis Gwendel had their territories. But Eins…

 “No. I don’t remember who I heard it from. I apologize, my lady. As an ignorant slave, I haven’t heard anything about your family.”

 “That’s alright.”

 She swallowed empty air. Contrary to her expectation that the woman would explode with anger, she laughed cheerfully. Ella turned her gaze to look at the queen. She was drinking alcohol with her neck elegantly bent.