Swan Grave - Chapter 52

The first wound and the last tip of the blade met. The metaphysical patterns and ancient characters engraved on Anna’s ankle flared brightly for a moment, as if burning, then swallowed the blood spreading across her ankle and vanished without a trace.

Anna panted through the pain, gasping for breath. Her cheeks were soaked with tears she had shed without realizing. Rothbart’s face, too, was twisted as though pained by the sight of her suffering. He carefully brushed away the strands of hair clinging to Anna’s cheek and whispered.

“I didn’t want to do this either… But since I can’t trust you, I had no choice. It’s all your fault. Your fault for abandoning me and Svan…”

Rothbart then lunged at Anna, who writhed in agony. He swallowed her pain and overlaid it with sharp pleasure. Her lower body, wet with unwilling dampness, nonetheless welcomed Rothbart’s manhood as it drove into her.

“Ahhk, ngh, ugh!”

Whether from the fever of her wound, or from the heat of lust… Anna, gasping as she was ravaged, felt her consciousness flicker.

Why had she been unable to remember anything at all? If only she hadn’t forgotten them.

No, it was a relationship she had broken with her own hand from the very beginning. In whatever way, there had never been a chance to undo it. All of this was Anna’s retribution.

Regret and self-loathing engulfed her. Swallowing her bursting moans, Anna bit down hard on her lips. Her red lips were tinged with faint blood, like juice seeping from fruit.

Rothbart slowly brushed the wound on Anna’s lips with the tip of his thumb. As blood spread along her mouth, it stained his thumb as well. Rothbart licked up Anna’s blood with his tongue and glared at her.

“Do you want to die? You look like you do.”

“…That’s not it.”

“Is it so humiliating to fall into my hands? Is living your life bound by magic, under my watch for all eternity, so dreadful?”

Without listening to Anna’s words, Rothbart snapped back. Like a man who could hear nothing at all, he obstinately spewed only what he wished to say.

Whether Anna’s answers were sweet or sharp, they always wounded him. For Rothbart, love was like self-harm. Had he known love would be like this, he never would have looked at Anna in the first place. Yet Rothbart of his youth had been immature. Even though his own father had been one who loved in such a way, he firmly believed he himself would never become like that.

Even knowing he was going astray, Rothbart couldn’t give up love, couldn’t give up Anna. And so Rothbart cast himself into the pit of his own ruin.

“If you can die, then go ahead and die. At the very least, your corpse will remain with me.”

Rothbart smiled. It was a gentle smile, as if he had been freed from his torment and gained enlightenment. But contrary to that softness, his lower body drove into hers roughly, like a wild stallion galloping without restraint.

“Rather than you belonging to another in some place I don’t know, I would rather keep even your corpse by my side for life. I will never regret it.”

“Ahhk, ngh!”

“So give up. You will never leave this mansion for the rest of your life…”

This is the punishment you must endure. Rothbart’s solemn confession was like a pronouncement of death.

If that was what he wished, she wouldn’t refuse. In truth, even if he and Svan rejected her, she had planned to die by their side. For Anna, who had come to realize her past, that was the only atonement she could offer them.

This mansion, his embrace, would become her grave…

With ragged moans, Anna quietly closed her eyes. Judgment had been passed, and the sinner accepted it all.

CHAPTER 8. Swan Grave

After the day of the Red Moon, many things were overturned in Swan Grave.

Lady Odile Brabant, the mansion’s only visitor, left in haste as if making a midnight escape, driving the white carriage of House Brabant out of the estate. Joseph also disappeared without a trace, and everyone agreed that he had abandoned his younger sister Anna and chased after honor and wealth by following Lady Brabant.

But rumors about Joseph didn’t last long. That morning, Madame Dova and Butler Barrett delivered shocking news that Anna would become a marchioness, throwing the mansion into uproar.

“No wonder Anna wasn’t around this morning.”

“They said she’s staying in the Marquess’s room?”

Joseph’s whereabouts, having chased after Lady Brabant, no longer mattered to anyone, nor did the sudden disappearance of the governess Rose. Some people wondered about it, but most brushed it off, saying Rose surely couldn’t endure the thought of Anna becoming the marchioness and left.

Because Rothbart had always treated Anna with special regard, no one was greatly surprised. It was simply what was bound to come. The servants bustled about, preparing the mansion for the wedding.

Preparations for Anna and the Marquess’s wedding proceeded swiftly. Without inviting others, it was to be held quietly at a small nearby chapel. This was partly because it wasn’t the Marquess’s first marriage, but also because, for some reason, Anna had become unable to walk.

“No one knows why. She looks fine on the outside… At most, she can limp a step or two, but she’ll have to rely on a wheelchair for life. Tsk, tsk, how did she end up like that…”

Everyone sighed with pity at the words the attending physician had let slip. Betty furrowed her brows and clicked her tongue.

“To think she finally became the marchioness… But since she can’t walk, she won’t even be able to attend social gatherings, will she? What a pity.”

“Well, since she’s a maid from the Eastern Continent, maybe it’s better not to attend social gatherings for Anna.”

“But still, the social world, Jo! If it were me, I’d want to at least have a look, even if I were bullied. After all, her husband is the Marquess of Lohengrin.”

“Don’t say things like that in front of Anna.”

“How stupid do you think I am? You shouldn’t call her Anna either. She’s the Marchioness now. You must call her Madam.”

Watching Betty and Jo bicker, Susan sank into thought. Everyone said Anna was either lucky or unlucky, but Susan thought it was neither. To say her life was governed by something vague like luck felt far too contrived. Rather, perhaps Anna had simply been caught in a trap. Susan recalled what she had seen on the night of the Red Moon just days ago.

When she woke briefly at dawn, Anna’s bed had been empty. She assumed Anna had gone to the restroom and went back to sleep, but after tossing and turning, when she woke again much later, Anna still was not there. Worried, Susan had quietly left her room. That was when she came upon Anna’s scream.

The grief-soaked cry had come from the Marquess’s room…

Though hidden by pain, Anna’s voice was faintly drenched. The Marquess’s voice, too, could be heard saying something, but nothing she could make out clearly.

Frightened, Susan hurried away instead of trying to find out more. Her heart pounded as she ran up the stairs.

Susan pretended not to know anything of that night, but she couldn’t help being worried for Anna.

On the day of Anna’s wedding, Susan was tasked with adorning Anna’s hair. Her hair, black as silk, was somewhat tricky to fix in place, but it was as elegant as black pearls.

As she braided and lifted Anna’s hair, who sat in a white dress in her wheelchair, Susan quietly asked.

“…Are you alright?”

Like a breeze passing by, Susan’s voice quickly faded without a trace. Meeting her eyes across the mirror, Anna smiled faintly and shook her head.

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so…”

“I mean it.”

Anna had always been quiet. Gentle, composed… Susan, somewhat clumsy, always envied such a side of Anna.

But the Anna before her now was different. Her figure carried a sorrow unfit for a bride rising in status. Susan’s mouth went dry, and she barely managed to speak.

“But… if it ever becomes too hard, tell me anytime. You might think I’m being presumptuous, but… you’re my friend.”

“Thank you, Susan.”

The wedding was held simply. Some murmured that the treatment was too different from that of the first wife, but none truly spoke out of concern for Anna.

Anna, unable to walk, entered the hall in her wheelchair, which Rothbart pushed. Svanhild, the heir and eldest son, served as the flower boy and welcomed his stepmother.

Thus, the maid from the Eastern Continent, Anna, became the true Marchioness of House Lohengrin. The groom, Rothbart, smiled as if greatly pleased.

***

The once forbidden room of the Marchioness became Anna’s. In truth, since the wedding, she hadn’t been able to leave that room, making it no different from a prison.

Whenever Anna wanted to leave, Rothbart always had to accompany her. The right to push her wheelchair belonged to him alone.

The curse engraved on Anna’s ankle meant she couldn’t walk without Rothbart’s permission. Thinking back, Rothbart had already warned her. He had once told her that if she defied him, he might ensure she could never walk again.

When Anna tried to walk on her own, she was struck with pain like walking on a floor covered with shards of glass. In the end, she couldn’t take more than a few steps before collapsing. It was the kind of agony one might imagine the Little Mermaid suffered upon taking her first steps with her newly gained legs.

Yet even when alone with her, Rothbart didn’t permit her to walk. He either carried her in his arms or pushed her wheelchair… Perhaps what he wanted most was for her to forget how to walk altogether. That was the vague suspicion Anna held.