#61

06. Walked on Four Legs

“I didn’t expect you would actually accept me. To be honest, I was a bit nervous. Did you know?”

On a day when white spring flowers bloomed frighteningly lush. The one who mumbled in fluent common language, with a hint of admiration, was Henrik. Seated to my left, he slightly leaned his upper body towards me, taking advantage of my husband’s distracted attention. It was a careful and dignified gesture, not enough to draw others’ attention, yet somewhat familiar, and it was an attitude Henrik showed uniquely to me.

What a cunning man.

“Perhaps you were moved. What was it really?”

Henrik, who had lightly drawn close to my shoulder, whispered softly. That tone was not his usual manner of speaking, feigning politeness and ending his words neatly. Moreover, at the time I was merely displeased, but in truth, it must have been the sound of a snake’s tongue licking its lips. Gloomy and filthy.

“Hmm.”

“……”

“If it’s an affirmative silence, I’d be pleased.”

I did not answer him. Aside from the discomfort in my stomach, I was tense, fearing any misunderstanding from my husband. While secretly soothing my startled heart, I glanced to the right, and saw my husband, his face melted like rotten candle wax, surrounded by a group of young poets.

With his thin, skeletal frame hidden by the poets’ wide sleeves, only the edge of the old man’s sleeve was barely visible beyond my field of vision, perched on the table.

I felt relieved. I took a deep breath quietly amidst the chaotic noise created by hundreds of people. My ears rang as if filled with water. The banquet hall felt like a giant tank containing all sorts of sounds.

“My lady.”

At that moment, the maid standing behind me bowed. With a slightly strong accent but fluent in the common language like Henrik, she was the woman who waited at every meal to explain the dishes to me.

The one who assigned this woman to me was Henrik, after I had shown the eccentric behavior of rushing out upon seeing a horse’s head served at the table. Henrik seemed to subtly expect some greeting or gratitude, but I didn’t find his kindness pleasing in the slightest, so naturally, I expressed no thanks.

“You are cold-hearted.”

Henrik, who had been watching me with a bright face like a dog anticipating its master’s praise, sneered in passing one day.

“……”

The maid’s whisper in my ear was soft. Upon hearing about the identity of the dish that had just been served, my brow furrowed involuntarily. The feeling of stomach acid refluxing was enough to make me nauseous.

“Just… say it directly.”

I could only respond to Henrik after swallowing once. In fact, his flirtation, light enough to blow away, was nothing out of the ordinary by then, and had hardly remained in my ears. I just stared intently at the appetizing juices of the well-cooked meat. Something worse than horse meat was placed on my plate.

A peacock, of all things.

It was almost like looking at an insect. I simply couldn’t bring myself to put that beautiful bird in my mouth. Just the smell made me want to vomit from the saliva that had involuntarily gathered in my mouth. That says it all. While any food can satisfy hunger, there are clearly some with different emotions attached to them.

Still, this pitiful body could only barely sustain itself by putting something in, so I reluctantly moved my fingertips to nibble on the leg meat.

“What I accepted was my son’s sword, not you. Much less your proposal. Get your face away. I don’t like it touching me.”

“Proposal? I don’t know what you mean.”

Henrik slowly pulled back his upper body, rested his elbow on an empty spot on the table, propped his chin, and looked at me. The subtle smile at the corner of his lips was as nauseating as the peacock meat, and I hated the sight of it.

I lowered my gaze. I glared at his waist, revealed as the distance between our bodies widened. A silk cloth tied with decorative knots. That vulgar handkerchief of mine was fluttering at Henrik’s lower body. I quickly averted my eyes from that shameless, cursed thing.

As I gestured into the air, a young servant approached and cleared away the peacock meat that would have had brilliant feathers. Unable to remove Henrik, whom I truly wanted to erase from before my eyes, I instead pushed the plate far away and wiped the grease from my hands on the tablecloth.

“Such a refined tongue from noble blood, so picky.”

Henrik seemed to chuckle upon seeing my thoroughly upset state. After checking the position of the maid standing far behind with a sidelong glance, he muttered softly.

“I want to feed you.”

I silently picked up my wine glass. Henrik clinked his glass against mine without asking for permission. The silver cups made a clear sound. Keeping my gaze fixed on the glass, I said to him.

“Who says I’ll eat even if you feed me.”

Henrik just kept smiling. The red surface floating in the air seemed to tremble a little.

That day was the final day of the jousting tournament hosted by the lord of Indridason, my second husband. The old man had invited the knights who had excelled in the two-week-long tournament to a banquet at the castle. Promising young men had gathered in one place.

The song echoing through the banquet hall was Arnulf’s heroic poem, familiar even to my ears. Was the rhythm that swallowed sobs originally so sorrowful? The harmony of string instruments and the beautiful voices of poets were more splendid than ever, more cruel than ever.

I slowly looked around the Indridason banquet hall, standing beside the old man. A castle that seemed as if a piece of Gustav’s fortress had been cut and pasted, decorated with shields and tapestries bearing Valdemar’s coat of arms hung throughout the interior. Perhaps it was consideration for me, struggling with life in a foreign land? I was foolish to have naively accepted it as such, even for a moment.

I understood soon after coming down to the south. That old man, with not much time left to live, no need to see children anymore, no need to fill the bedroom, yet still the reason he bought me was precisely that.

The lord who had grown old without a family tree coveted my name.

In fact, while the question might be absurdly obvious, to me, the blatant ostentation was more shocking than the old man’s greed. To expose one’s deficiencies so openly? One who shows off and rather reveals his bottom. Ignorance that knows no shame.

It was contemptible. To the extent that I occasionally showed displeasure on my face despite being cautious in everything.

However, I was not unaware that the old man’s vulgar nature was my lifeline. Even looking back now, I can say that I certainly received better treatment compared to his previous wives. The fact that my breath continues to persist tenaciously until now might be proof of that.

Fortunately, the old man did not want much from me, with whom he couldn’t even communicate.

He did not entrust me with bedroom duties, nor the management of the castle or fief. He simply put a purple headdress with gold trim and a crown studded with several dazzling jewels on me and presented me at official occasions.

I was quite taken aback. No, it didn’t end with just being taken aback. The unfamiliar gazes scrutinizing me and the praises enthusiastically showered upon me by those who approached haphazardly were too difficult to handle.

The first day I attended a banquet. That is, the day I had to receive unwanted worship for the first time in my life from young knights with dark chins. When I heard what they were saying from the young maid who accompanied me, I was shocked.

We adore you, we revere you.

The reason that bottomless affection was shocking was that I couldn’t understand the cause at all. Why on earth would they seek love and friendship from me? When had they even seen me?

I felt dizzy. Past memories washed over me like a tidal wave. I remembered the grip of the ruffian who had seized my wrist, and the black bruise he had left. And the passionate kisses showered on that bruised skin….

Even Johannes’s kiss.

In the midst of rough gazes that weren’t even Johannes’s, I had to feel humiliation, shame, and fear all at once. My heart was pounding unbearably. I stamped my feet, wanting to hide in a mouse hole if there was one, but the old man left me standing like a sack of barley on display.

Johannes, Johannes. I think I called the name of the absent person several times.

Unable to endure any longer, I finally fled the place in a fluster. How the bewildered gazes that followed me felt like needles!

And so I was beaten for the first time that day.

I learned for the first time, having it carved into me with wounds, that my name and smile were as good as the championship trophy that the young knights longed for. Not long after that, I declared to the knights with the old man’s arm around my waist.

Come, young one.

If you are loyal to the lord, receive the lord’s grace, use the lord’s authority as a stepping stone, and even raise your own reputation, you can gain the friendship of a noble lady like me. That friendship will be proof of your glory, so come, young one.

Have hope.

That was the entirety of the duty given to me, to leave a lingering impression on the young men invited to the castle. I did my best with the task assigned to me.

However, rendering those efforts meaningless, sometimes I was severely beaten for reasons I simply couldn’t comprehend. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but I never got used to the pain that came pouring down with no way to avoid it. Moreover, while I lacked the ability to not fear my husband, who was the source of that pain, I still managed to endure somehow.

The beatings weren’t that frequent, and I knew from experience that they would at least end before I dropped dead. My bloodline’s status and the obedience I showed with my precious body played the biggest role in placating the old man. And in fact.

What I really found hard to bear was not the erratic beatings, but the everyday breathing sounds. When we were together in the bedroom, my ears and heart sank lower in sync with the old man’s breathing.

Huff. Huff….

I could tell even without trying to look. Though he was just an old man slumped in an armchair with a gloomy look, I could feel every hair’s breadth of his movement. With nerves in my limbs and body as sensitive as live wires, whether sitting, standing, or lying down, with a feeling of living because I couldn’t die.

Huff. Huff….

What I found hardest to bear was myself, unable to straighten up even at those breathing sounds, unable to show any sign of dislike. I never slept deeply for even a day or an hour, having to lie beside the old man. Fear changes a person like that.

After enduring such a harsh newlywed period like iron skin, in the first spring I met in the south.

Henrik, the final winner of the tournament, pointed his sword at me of all people during the award ceremony.

It felt like my heart had sunk. I was extremely reluctant, hesitating until the very last moment of hanging the handkerchief on the sword tip pointed at me. It was because Henrik’s black intentions, having cast shallow glances at me before, were as clear as day.

Amidst hundreds and thousands of spectators, shame that couldn’t be shown outwardly rose to my forehead, making my face flush. However, there was no way to refuse.

At that time, it would have drawn more attention if the newly become ‘mother’ had refused the glory her ‘son’ was offering, so I accepted Henrik’s sword. Ah, to be fated to be entangled with family wherever I go, how unsightly… truly… disgusting!

…Henrik Indridason.

Just past thirty, he was the old man’s last son. And he was a somewhat peculiar man.

Attending the wedding in place of his father, he had marched proudly with my hand resting on his arm, but as soon as he set foot on his homeland, he faded like a shadow in the shade. His dark brown hair and deep green eyes sometimes gave the impression of underbrush hiding in the corner of a dense forest.

Where had the man gone who had acted so brazenly in the heart of another’s main camp, even if it wasn’t enemy territory? Having deeply imprinted in my mind the image of Henrik who had eyed me like a snake even in the presence of my father, that iron duke, I was very surprised.