Fragments of Thorns and a Cradle - Chapter 36

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Malfoid

◈ Fragments of Thorns and a Cradle ◈

Chapter 36

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Content Warning: domestic abuse; explicit sexual content; physical violence; sexual coercion or assault.

They had spent their entire childhood together. To Endymion, who had no siblings, Marie was a sister. And because she had no proper guardian, he had been both her parent and elder brother. He could not possibly miss what she was thinking as she tried to wipe her tears away.

"Wait outside."

Marie shook her head. Endymion showed no mercy.

"I will not say it twice."

"...I don't want to."

She did not know what would happen after she left. Even if she could not help, Marie wanted to protect Henrietta. At the very least, she could not let Henrietta suffer his violence as she had last time.

And every distinguished noblewoman was gathered here. What happened to Henrietta could not simply be dismissed as a private matter.

Think of the family. The mistress you must serve has no mind for these matters, so you must keep your wits about you.

Before Endymion's marriage, Lucrezia had called Marie to her and said so.

Endymion's honor was the family's honor, and Henrietta's honor was also the family's honor. Marie's duty was to uphold Henrietta and protect Gwendel.

Marie had always nodded first when Lucrezia spoke. Since she was very small, Lucrezia had been like a divine command to her. She had always ordered Marie to live obediently.

It is natural that Endymion will marry. Do not think he will dance to your tune forever. Good things are brief. Do not let that brief time deceive you into throwing yourself away.

Yes.

I believe you are wiser than your mother.

...

No. You must be. You must be wiser than your mother.

Endymion was more foolish than his father. At least Marie had to know sense, or Lucrezia's achievements would collapse.

At last, Marie raised her head.

"Let us leave together."

"Do you want to be dragged out?"

Endymion asked.

Marie shook her head. Endymion stared at the top of her head for a moment, then gently pushed her away by the shoulder.

"Then stay."

Pushed out of his view, Marie urgently grabbed his arm. It was too thick for both her hands to encircle. Endymion did not care whether she clung to him or not. One hand was enough to punish a woman who did not know her place.

"What is this supposed to be?"

His lips curved into a smile as if the woman amused him. His face was cold and grim, as if Henrietta were dressed in rags.

Henrietta stood before him as if she might break apart.

Marie clung to his arm, frozen with terror. She had to make him treat his wife with decency. She had to stop him from hurting Henrietta any further. Anything...

"I asked why you look like that."

"W-What did I do?"

"You copied Marie."

"That is not true. This was mine..."

"My stomach hurts, Master. Ah, I think there may be something wrong with the baby."

Marie stammered and cut Henrietta off.

Marie had wanted to say that Henrietta had not copied her, but her mind would not work. In the end, she used the child in her belly, the child Endymion had desperately wished would be a daughter like Marie.

"The child..."

Marie could not continue. The eyes gathering on her were cold. There was no reason they would look kindly upon a concubine who had inserted herself between a marquess and his wife.

She should have been used to it. Yet Marie could not adjust, and heat gathered in her eyes.

She had wanted to behave wisely, just as Lucrezia and Madam Retman had told her. But because of her, the ball was being ruined, and the marquess and marchioness seemed to be falling into a dreadful conflict.

"Please... could you go back?"

Tears ran down her cheeks.

In a few days, people would say that the frivolous female slave of San Arzok had shed tears to tempt the marquess again. They would say the poor marchioness had been helplessly abandoned by her husband, and would cluck their tongues over such a shameful outrage.

It was all right.

Better that Marie be cursed than Henrietta.

So...

It is all right, Marie. You are doing what you must do.

❖ ❖ ❖

Soft music wound around Henrietta's ears. She barely calmed her pounding heart as she turned over the image of Endymion in her mind.

The face that had looked down at Marie's tears lingered before her eyes. His anger had vanished in an instant, leaving a face astonishingly cold. That expression, from which nothing could be read, was suffocatingly frightening.

Henrietta thought of the man who had turned away because Marie clung to him. He had not said, as he had once before, "Do not forget what you promised me."

But Endymion's clear wall between them had been as sharp as it was that day. She felt an ominous sense that something was about to happen.

Marie had somehow stopped him in the salon, kept him from rushing at Henrietta. But now there was no woman to stop him.

Henrietta cautiously watched him from the corner of her eye.

Just as when he had left the salon and moved away from her, he seemed wrapped in coldness. His face was opaque, his feelings unreadable.

Then the soft music suddenly changed to a dance tune. The nobles naturally formed lines and faced one another.

As if she did not remember what had happened earlier, Henrietta looked at Endymion. A neat, white-gloved hand extended toward her.

She thought of the thick fingers and blue veins that stood out fiercely beneath that glove.

For the hand of a knight who went to war and cut the throats of brutal men, it was elegant and refined.

Henrietta knew how alluring that hand could be without anything covering it.

How blissful would it be if those fingers parted her below and thrust into her roughly? If, as he did to Marie, he sucked and tormented her little clitoris with his red tongue until she cried out in pleasure?

Like Marie. Yes.

Like he treated Marie.

Henrietta remembered having once seen Endymion with Marie. The image stayed painfully clear in her mind. Her pulse quickened.

She lifted her head to look at him.

His blond hair, swept cleanly back from his forehead, shone so brightly it hurt the eyes. His features were magnificent. The thought of that beautiful face above her, rather than above Marie, made heat spread through her body.

With a swallowed sigh, she studied Endymion. His lashes, as long as a noblewoman's, were so foreign to his nature. Yet Henrietta thought they were the most beautiful and noble thing about him.

If he loved her, she could touch him to her heart's content.

Everything hurt.

"You are looking at me as though you want me."

They had turned gracefully once and joined hands again when that smooth, chilling voice sounded beside her ear.

Why did even his voice have to be beautiful?

The low tone suited his splendid face too well.

"Yes. Is that wrong?"

She stepped close as if leaning into his embrace and whispered beneath his chin.

"I believe I have the right."

Henrietta was his bride, the woman he had chosen and brought home himself.

She had a right to his love.

Henrietta looked at him provocatively.

There seemed to be the scent of violets at his clean, hard jaw. It was Marie's scent. Henrietta and Marie used the same bedding and the same perfume, so it was natural.

Yet even that small thing twisted Henrietta's temper.

"You have a right?"

"I am your wife."

Endymion's face twisted.

The dark shadow falling across his pale face crushed her. As if he were looking at a clown, Endymion gave a low laugh.

"A right to your love..."

"There is only one woman who may claim any right over me."

Endymion stopped moving.

Henrietta stared at him, her face stiffening.

"You are the one who climbed where you dared not climb, put on a crown you did not deserve, and made a spectacle of yourself. You are not my wife."

The orchestra, watching Endymion's reaction, stopped playing.

In an instant, the ballroom turned cold and silent.

Henrietta moved the corner of her lips, trying not to look flustered.

Had Endymion ever looked so frightening before?

Henrietta thought back over her countless mistakes and the reactions he had shown each time.

Endymion was by nature fickle and easily irritated. Everyone found him difficult and exhausting. Even when he smiled slyly, the cruelty in his ice-blue eyes made people shudder.

Still, Henrietta had never experienced his anger directly. Even when she angered him, he had always stopped at warnings.

She knew why.

Marie had been there.

If Marie had not been there, if Marie had not stopped him, it would not have ended with a single slap.

Henrietta was a bride, but she was still a virgin who had not spent her wedding night with her husband.

In Kailak, after a man took a woman, wife or female slave, proof that they had spent the night together was customarily shown to secure the relationship. When a bride's marriage was consummated, the sheets were folded, sent to her birth family, and hung in the bridal chamber for some time.

But Endymion had not touched Henrietta.

The one he embraced in the bridal chamber was Marie. Before Henrietta's eyes, he had caught the wrist of the female slave who had made the bed and brushed Henrietta's hair, then forced her down onto the bed.

"Do you not remember why I chose you?"

"I am the marquess's bride. Whatever reason you chose me for..."

"So that is why you have been making this filthy display before me?"

"What did I do?"

"You schemed to make my wife the target of your worthless abuse!"

Endymion tore open Henrietta's bodice. Before she could scream, the cloth ripped apart and was flung onto the floor.

Henrietta shook as she looked up at him.

"How dare you disgrace my wife in my own home! Who do you think you are?"

"Hk... hhk..."

"Perhaps you have forgotten. There is only one reason I shut you away in my house."

Without tempering his angry outburst, Endymion recited every word in a chilling voice.

Henrietta collapsed to the floor and burst into tears.