Swan Grave - Chapter 38

“Unfortunately.”

The low voice resonating in the darkness was unmistakably familiar. Anna startled and shot upright. A man, wrapped from head to toe only in the finest garments that didn’t suit the shabby, worn maid’s quarters, sat perched on the edge of her bed.

“I’m not called by such a name.”

Even in the darkness, his red eyes gleamed fiercely like torches.

Anna looked out the window. The sun had set, but it wasn’t yet night. Seeing that the other maids were absent, it must have been dinnertime. But it was strange. On the first evening, it was customary for the host to entertain guests with a banquet.

“Why are you here…? What about Lady Brabant?”

“Does that matter?”

“…No.”

Though she answered so, a base delight filled Anna at the thought that Rothbart had abandoned her and come to her instead.

Perhaps sensing Anna’s feelings laid bare, Rothbart’s lips twitched. He tugged at Anna’s long black hair, pressed a kiss to it, and laughed with his eyes curved.

“Are you concerned about her?”

“No.”

“Is that so?”

At Rothbart’s mocking laughter, Anna snapped her head away. She felt ashamed, as though her heart had been completely exposed.

Anna’s black hair slipped down between his fingers. Rothbart loosely clenched and opened his hand as if in emptiness, then reached toward Anna’s face. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone and grazed her eye, as though checking for traces of tears.

Embarrassed that he might notice the evidence of tears shed before sleep, Anna swatted his hand away and averted her gaze. But he paid no mind, instead teasing her earlobe before sliding down her nape, his hand slipping inside her clothes to stroke her bare skin. With a spotless face that showed no change, his unblinking eyes pierced her… She couldn’t fail to notice what those blatant touches meant. Anna shook her head and pushed his hand away.

“Not here. If that is what you want, then let me go to your room…”

“I like it here.”

Rothbart pulled straight down on Anna’s calf, which was sticking out from beneath the blanket. Her body was laid flat on the bed in an instant. He lifted her skirt and forced her tightly closed legs apart. His strength rendered her resistance meaningless.

“This place smells like you.”

With a faint smile, Rothbart pressed his lips to Anna’s nape. With those words, Anna found herself unable to push him away. As Rothbart positioned himself between her thighs, Anna’s hands, which had been pressing against his chest, fell to the bed as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Soon, a towering shadow completely covered Anna.

***

“Ahh!”

The space where she had barely been able to breathe freely, laugh, and rest was drowned in ecstasy. The void that had been free of Rothbart’s presence was now filled entirely with him. From this moment on, even here, Anna would never be able to rest without remembering him.

Every time Rothbart moved, the bed creaked noisily, unable to withstand his weight. The sheets beneath were worn to the point of ugliness. Rothbart clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“The bed, the bedding… all of it is pitiful.”

Even so, his excitement didn’t seem to cool, for Rothbart’s thrusts remained unchanged. No, the strength in the hand that seized her breast betrayed that he was even more aroused.

Anna gasped, holding her breath. She tried to strain her ears for sounds outside, fearing someone might open the door at any moment, but within the waves of pleasure that crashed endlessly over her, keeping hold of her fraying mind was no easy task.

“Even so, you chose to remain a maid instead of becoming my mistress.”

“Ahh, nn…”

“Do you still think the same? That there is no difference between a mistress and a wife?”

Only when Anna had completely given up did Rothbart once more whisper in her ear. The demon’s tongue, so long and smooth, delved into her ear. In the sensation that she couldn’t tell was pain or pleasure, Anna’s stomach tightened. Rothbart continued to drive himself down, showering Anna with sweetness.

“You truly are not honest. The Lady of Brabant, for example. Do you really not care about her?”

“Ugh!”

“Say it, Anna. I will do as you wish.”

Rothbart’s red eyes gleamed. He continued to bewitch Anna.

“Whether it’s disposing of that woman… or adjusting your position.”

His words, as if Lady Brabant was worth nothing compared to her, shook Anna terribly.

The thought flashed through her mind, then why didn’t he stand up for me back there? But Anna forced her eyes to blur, pretending not to know, believing Rothbart must have had his own reasons. She didn’t want to recognize the truth. She didn’t want to wake from this dream…

Honestly, she didn’t believe all of his words were sincere. He was always composed, never shaken. Anna, too, knew that sincerity was not always so graceful. But each word he offered was so sweet that she just wanted to believe them.

“Marquis…”

Suppressing the pounding of her heart, Anna barely opened her mouth. At that moment, Rothbart’s body suddenly froze. At the stillness that came like a pause in the unending act, Anna barely caught her breath and managed to continue.

“Do you… love me, even a little?”

“Love?”

The corners of Rothbart’s lips twitched upward. He asked back as if Anna were worrying needlessly.

“Do you think I would lust after a woman I felt nothing for?”

“……”

“To me, Anna, there is no one but you.”

Rothbart’s courtship was fervent, yet he never once let the word love escape his lips. And Anna didn’t have the courage to persistently demand it either. If she dared to speak it and everything collapsed like a crushed cake, she had no confidence she could bear the aftermath.

So Anna swallowed the words that lingered on her lips and laughed instead. She couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“Hah, hahaha…”

“What’s so funny?”

Perhaps thinking she was mocking him, Rothbart furrowed his brows in irritation. A deep wrinkle formed between his brows, and for once, his voice carried emotion.

Perhaps he, too, was only pretending composure while feeling restless inside. Thinking so, Anna’s heart felt a little lighter.

“It’s nothing.”

Without realizing, Anna reached out and caressed Rothbart’s cheek. The cheek beneath the sharp cheekbone trembled finely the moment her hand touched it.

Compared to the sticky kisses where saliva was exchanged countless times through mucous membranes, this simple act of touch was hardly worth calling contact. Yet it was the first time she had reached out to touch him herself. Rothbart blinked slowly in surprise, then grasped Anna’s hand as if to confirm whether the sensation against his cheek was real.

Rothbart stared down at Anna and pressed his lips to her palm. Her palm burned hot, as though branded with the mark of a slave.

His red eyes that held Anna boiled like molten lava. Pierced through by an unavoidable gaze, Anna opened her mouth once more and let out the moan she had been holding back. As if to erase the awkward silence where sincerity was hidden. Soon, the shabby, dark attic room was filled with lewd moans.