Swan Grave - Chapter 21

It was just as Rothbart said. While Anna’s reason tried to reject the stimulation delivered through sensations so vague she couldn’t tell if they were reward or punishment, her body, like a trained dog, was forced into heat at his every gesture. Anna was devastated at what she had become.

But she still had a thread of pride left. When it was over, Anna tidied her disheveled clothes without revealing a trace of emotion. She pulled up her tousled hair again and smoothed out the wrinkled hem. Aside from her flushed cheeks, there was little difference from how she had looked at first.

Composing herself, Anna took a rag and wiped the soiled desk and the area around it. Rothbart, annoyed, stopped her.

“Leave it. The butler will clean it anyway.”

She only did it because she didn’t want to leave it as it was, but Rothbart would never understand. He was a shameless man who didn’t mind having sex in front of others.

They say opposites attract; vulgarity and refinement were only a sheet of paper apart. The wretched life of someone with no pride left to lose no matter who saw her debased, and the exalted life of a noble lord whose lofty pride was not scratched in the least by such things. The essence was the same.

But Anna was neither of those. Even if the butler knew of the relationship between her and Rothbart, showing the soiled traces was still shameful.

“…I am not the Marquess’s mistress, but his assigned maid. This much I should do…”

“Are you saying in a roundabout way that you want to become my mistress?”

“That’s not it. I just…”

Flustered, Anna hurried to excuse herself. But before her words even ended, Rothbart snatched the rag from her hand and flung it aside. His lips, which had seemed satisfied only moments ago, twisted with displeasure.

“If you’re so eager to do something, why not work on things that will please me. Relieving your master’s discomfort is a maid’s duty.”

Rothbart’s arm wrapped around Anna’s waist and pulled her close. Each time he muttered, Anna frowned, as if that expression were her last line of defense, her final shield.

“You only need to concern yourself with me.”

Ignoring Anna’s look of discomfort, Rothbart pressed his lips firmly to her nape and whispered.

“Or do you truly want to be my mistress? The maid’s uniform suits you, but nothing compares to being naked. Dishes laden with spice, fresh fruit. Furs and expensive jewels… Whatever you desire, I’ll give it. In return, you will always be naked, waiting only for me. How about it?”

“…I am fine as I am now.”

“You don’t know how to live with ease. In any case, you will return to your original world, and no matter how wanton you act here, no one there will ever know.”

“……”

“Ah, right, there was that brother of yours. Now that I think about it, has he found someone to sow his seed into?”

Anna kept her lips shut in silence, but Rothbart read her thoughts as easily as his palm. She held so few cards that his guesses came easily.

“Haha. So you haven’t told him yet. Why? Afraid he’ll find out you’ve been giving your body to me? But he is your brother, if he knows the circumstances, wouldn’t he understand? That is, if he truly is your brother.”

Rothbart openly revealed his doubt that Sehyun was Anna’s blood relative. More than that, he seemed utterly convinced there was something between Sehyun and Anna.

“If not that… is it because you dislike the idea of him sowing his seed in another woman?”

It was a matter Anna had never even considered. They had in fact dated, but their relationship was far drier than Rothbart imagined, and in the mansion they rarely met. There was no reason for him to think that way, so Anna was bewildered.

Since there was no chance he would feel jealousy toward her, Anna had never thought in that direction. She only assumed there was some other reason Sehyun’s presence irked him. If not that, then perhaps he was using Sehyun as a pretext to provoke Anna in hopes of extracting some information from her. What could possibly be worth that, she could not guess, but there seemed to be no other explanation.

The more persistently Rothbart pressed her about Sehyun, the more tightly Anna shut her lips. Afraid she might get caught up in his schemes and say something foolish, Anna turned her head away and pushed at the arm wrapped around her waist.

“…If there’s nothing more you need me for, I’ll be going now.”

Rothbart released Anna without resistance. Then he gave a sly smile.

“Hiding it as long as you can might not be a bad idea.”

He looked as if he had found some new amusement. Anna didn’t forget what Rothbart truly was. The opponent before her was a demon. And a demon’s amusement never ended well for humans.

Steeling herself, Anna turned away and left the room. Behind her, Rothbart’s low laughter boiled over like the brimstone flames of hell.

***

By then, the sun had set. As she hurried back to her quarters after leaving Rothbart’s room, Anna saw a black doll-like figure standing alone at the far end of the shadowed corridor. A small, stocky body. Coming closer, Anna saw Svanhild’s pale face staring straight at her out of the darkness.

“Anna.”

“Young master.”

Anna, still uneasy around Svanhild, smiled awkwardly. Though her face clearly showed no welcome, Svanhild didn’t care. With a faint smile breaking his porcelain-doll-like expression, he walked toward Anna.

“Are you returning from Father’s room?”

“…Yes.”

“I’m glad Father is treating you well.”

Svanhild’s words were strange. Anna wanted to dismiss it as a simple conversation, but recalling how he had asked whether she had slept with his father, she could not. Sure enough, Svanhild asked a question no eleven-year-old child should.

“When will Father take you as his mistress?”

“I don’t know what expectations you have of me, young master, but that place doesn’t suit me. I…”

“So Father did make such a suggestion?”

Svanhild cornered Anna as if on a hunt. It was a familiar way of speaking. She had just been trapped in a similar snare.

Rothbart only stayed at the mansion for one season each year, yet Svanhild’s manner of speech was identical to his father’s.

Having been tormented by Rothbart all day, Anna was exhausted. Hiding her rising weariness, she tried to soothe Svanhild.

“Young master, I am only a maid.”

“No, you’ll end up becoming my mother.”

“Don’t say such things, young master. If others hear…”

“Others don’t matter.”

Svanhild cut her off firmly. Anna gave an awkward smile. At that smile, for the first time, Svanhild’s face showed a flicker of confusion.

“Do you dislike the thought of becoming my mother?”

Of course she did. The denial rose in Anna’s throat, but she had no intention of provoking the boy’s temper. Setting aside his high birth, Svanhild was still just a child. However cunning and chilling he might be, she didn’t want to expose her true feelings and wound him.

“I want you to become my mother.”

Svanhild murmured, sounding a little dispirited. Unlike his usual sly way of speaking, that subdued look made him seem pitiful.

Thinking back, to believe that just because she had lain with Rothbart she would become his mother was such childlike innocence. Perhaps that was where a child’s naivety still remained in him.

Though he knew the relations between men and women, he still thought they led to only one result. That was where his immaturity lay.

‘His father only thinks of using pregnancy as an excuse to take his fill of me.’

Anna let out a soft sigh, then crouched down before Svanhild to meet his eyes. The child, the spitting image of Rothbart, looked at her with eyes full of expectation.

“Young master.”

Anna took Svanhild’s hand. The long scar that stretched across his small left palm brushed against her fingertips. It was deeper and more vivid than it had seemed at a glance.