Swan Grave - Chapter 33

“I filled you up with seed, so you should thank me.”

“Tha… thank you.”

Exhausted, Anna replied reflexively. She had no time to even feel humiliated. She wasn’t given the luxury to dwell on such things.

Unlike Anna, who was still floundering with her legs spread, Rothbart quickly donned the mask of civility and reason, pulling on his clothes as he spoke casually.

“Come to think of it, a guest will be arriving.”

“A guest?”

Only then did Anna manage to raise her trembling body. As she brushed away strands of hair plastered to her face with sweat and tucked them behind her ear, the gesture caught Rothbart’s eyes. Even though he had planted his seed inside her several times, he still wasn’t satisfied.

With a hint of regret, Rothbart sneered, “The guest will be staying at the mansion for a while, so your ‘duties as my personal maid’ will be on hold. Congratulations on a brief freedom.”

As he said this, Rothbart smacked Anna’s buttocks. Her pale rear flinched and flushed red before returning to its original color, but the semen he had poured inside suddenly spilled out from the sudden jolt.

Watching Anna’s delicate brow furrow, Rothbart stroked his firm jaw and muttered, “But… with a body like this, you’ll miss it too. If you do, you may come to me after sunset.”

“……”

His mockery took many forms. Pouting, Anna turned her head away without answering. Yet what she disliked most was that his words weren’t entirely wrong.

They’d mingled their bodies every single day without fail, so now just the sight of his clothing made her wet. Since being embraced on the bed, she had grown even more unrestrained. Was it because she clung to him as though he were her lover? She felt herself sinking deeper into the swamp that was Rothbart.

She could no longer deny it. Rothbart’s place in her heart was growing.

She realized that only a few days remained until the day of the Red Moon, which came once a year. It had already been a full year since she had fallen into this world. She could hardly believe it.

‘…I’ll have to give up this year.’

Far from bearing a child, she hadn’t even conceived, so it was obvious she would miss her chance this year.

Though she had grown desperate, begging Rothbart to impregnate her when he avoided ejaculating inside during intercourse, Anna never held much hope.

Even if he hadn’t withdrawn lately, their relations over the past several months had been countless. Yet she still hadn’t conceived. They said demons were not meant to have children. Even if a swan could carry seed, it seemed it was never easy.

Perhaps it would be difficult next year, and even the year after.

‘Besides, my body isn’t in good condition. My cycle is still irregular. If I were infertile…’

Then she’d be trapped in this world forever…

When Rothbart had first called her mistress or Marchioness, she had flatly refused. But now, she knew she would falter. Yet Rothbart had never once brought up such a proposal again since that day. Though Anna felt relieved, she also found herself strangely disappointed.

‘Disappointed? Ridiculous.’

Startled by her own feelings, Anna shuddered.

It was a relationship she never should have stepped into. The best outcome was to end it at nothing more than easing his lust in place of the Marchioness. If she became his open mistress or Marchioness, she might come to desire something beyond what they had now.

Even a finely honed blade eventually grows dull, and even a polished surface will gather fingerprints. If it came to that, she would no longer be satisfied living as the shadow of the former Marchioness. That greed would surely destroy her. It was a near-certain premonition.

In any case, she and Rothbart were ill-suited. At first, he had projected the Marchioness onto her and was drawn to that. But how long could he go on living with a substitute? This was never her place.

Anna forced herself to steel her heart. A resolve as thin as a silk thread, as fragile as a magnolia petal.

***

A few days later, a pure white carriage like a ghost approached the Swan Grave. It was a long-awaited guest, the first to visit the mansion in ages, not since the last ball held long ago.

***

When Rothbart had returned, every servant had turned out to greet him. But for this guest, only the male servants appeared. The female servants were all busy inside preparing to receive the visitor. As befitted a noble house with a long history, no flaw was permissible in their hospitality. Madame Dova, sharper than usual, pressed the maids relentlessly.

As her assigned duties had been lifted, Anna asked Madame Dova and was permitted to assist in the kitchen. Though Madame Dova frowned in disapproval, after some thought, she nodded.

“Perhaps that is for the best. Very well, do so.”

It seemed Madame Dova still hadn’t forgotten her fright from when Anna, granted a moment of free time, had picked the roses in the garden. Anna smiled awkwardly and headed to the kitchen.

“If Madame Dova approved, then it’s fine.”

The head of the kitchen, Cathy, readily accepted Anna. Anna had half-expected a scolding about looking down on kitchen work, but unlike when she had been driven out before, Cathy welcomed her smoothly this time.

Susan, in charge of the kitchen, whispered into Anna’s ear, “She thinks it’s admirable you chose to find work yourself. Just look at Rose. Always so arrogant, acting like she’s above us. She thinks her status is different.”

“She’s a governess. I’m only a maid.”

“Are you taking Rose’s side now? Do you know how delighted she was when that incident with the flowers caused such a stir?”

Anna smiled bitterly. Indeed, it had been Rose’s doing to disgrace her, and the fact that she had gotten away with little reprimand must have infuriated her.

“Anyway, you came at the right time. We were supposed to make preserved cherries in syrup today, but then we had an unexpected guest.”

“Then should I make the cherry preserves?”

“That would be a great help.”

Susan grinned. First, the pits had to be removed. Anna found a spot in the corner so as not to disrupt the kitchen’s flow and took up the metal cherry pitter. Removing the stems and pressing out the pits was a tedious task, yet she was oddly glad to have mindless work to occupy her hands.

With every pit popped out, red juice splattered across her apron. Soon her white apron was blotched with crimson stains.

All over the mansion, servants bustled at the guest’s arrival. Many came and went from the kitchen, and even the maids passing through greeted Anna in the corner. Betty, her roommate, called cheerfully.

“Oh, Anna. Working in the kitchen today?”

“The guest’s arrival freed me.”

“Doesn’t look like freedom to me.”

They laughed together. It felt good to share a simple camaraderie with a colleague. Since becoming entangled with Rothbart, she had been constantly swept along by his every word and act, forgetting such daily normalcy.

“Do you know anything about the guest, Betty? I only heard she’s from the Count of Brabant’s house, but stuck here in the kitchen, I know nothing more.”

“They say it’s the count’s third daughter.”

“The third daughter? Then she’s a young lady?”

Susan looked startled and glanced at Anna.

Though Anna was openly treated as an exception by Rothbart, no one grasped their exact relationship. They only speculated that ‘someday’ it might become something deeper. The exception shown in the incident with the roses had been shocking, but that was all. The wall built by Rothbart’s eccentric temperament remained higher and thicker than expected.

But as Susan shared a room with Anna, she suspected more. Her worried eyes swept over Anna, but Anna, caught off guard by the unexpected news, failed to notice.