Chapter 11
The casual way Elfreda initiated such a private encounter filled him with revulsion. He questioned if such boldness was even appropriate given their standing.
“Ah!”
Ejnar seized her wrists in a single motion, pinning them above her head.
Though she stared back with a look of startled confusion, he offered no clarification, shifting his focus downward. The preparation was lacking; she wasn’t ready, and this would be unpleasant for them both.
He moistened his own hand before probing her with his long, slender fingers.
“Uht…!”
A pained expression crossed Elfreda’s features at the unfamiliar sensation. Her visible distress only served to sharpen his irritation.
A fresh wave of resentment bubbled up, prompting Ejnar to let out a mocking huff.
“You certainly play the part of a novice well.”
“I… hng!”
“Stop this charade of purity.”
He moved within her with palpable contempt. Elfreda’s spine curved, her hips shifting beneath him. The intensity of her physical response suggested she had been thoroughly trained before leaving her people. The sounds of their friction grew more pronounced.
Ejnar eventually added a second finger.
As he increased the pressure, the quality of Elfreda’s cries underwent a strange transformation. By the time he used three, she was whimpering, her voice tight with a desperate sort of pleading.
“Your Majesty, I beg of you…”
“Beg for what?”
Mercy was the last thing on his mind. There was a dark, twisted gratification in watching her struggle. Though his own restraint was fraying, he felt he could prolong this just to keep her in this state of submission.
“Uhng, aht…!”
The moment a different tone escaped her lips, however, Ejnar’s self-control shattered. He withdrew his hand abruptly, replacing his fingers with his own body. The sudden, overwhelming fullness forced a sharp cry of agony from her.
“Ah, hu-uht…!”
Her back arched against the pain. Still pinning her hands, Ejnar began a slow, rhythmic movement. Gradually, the nature of her whimpers began to shift again.
Recognizing the change, he accelerated.
Elfreda’s gaze was hazy and flushed as she looked up at him, but her eyes stirred nothing in his heart. He dismissed her expression as another layer of her performance. As he pushed harder, her face twisted in a blur of sensation. Her cries filled his ears, and he drove forward with increasing speed until he finally released his grip.
“Ha-uh….”
Elfreda squeezed her eyes shut, looking utterly drained as she felt his heat within her. Ejnar, appearing completely unfatigued, kept her hands trapped, maintaining a distance between their torsos to avoid any further contact.
Even after such a profound physical union, she felt no bond with him. His refusal to touch her more than necessary and the freezing coldness in his eyes made the act feel hollow. Despite the warmth left behind, a deep shiver took root inside her.
“….”
Ejnar’s gaze fell upon a crimson stain marking the white fabric where they had joined. His face remained a mask of indifference. He assumed the Makaeri were clever; they would have ensured their future queen appeared untouched through some deceptive means.
He dressed quickly and exited the chamber.
Elfreda lacked the strength to even call out to him. When the servants arrived a moment later to bathe her, she drifted into a sleep so deep it felt like a loss of consciousness.
The Marchioness Magnum’s expression turned to stone as she inspected the linens taken from the royal bed. The evidence of the night’s events was undeniable.
Her grip on the fabric was so fierce her fingers turned ghostly white. With a sneer of pure loathing, she shoved the cloth toward a servant.
“Incinerate it.”
The Marchioness then stepped into the bedroom. Elfreda was still fast asleep, her face weary, tucked into fresh bedding that looked as though nothing had happened.
A flash of raw fury distorted the older woman’s features.
‘To think that savage was permitted in the Queen’s own bed…’
A sudden impulse drove her hand toward the sleeping woman’s throat. Her muscles coiled as if to choke the life out of Elfreda. Taking a ragged breath, the Marchioness forced herself to step back.
‘Ending her now would be too merciful.’
She thought back to the graceful queen who had raised her like a sister. That noble woman had withered away, broken by the loss of her husband and child.
This intruder deserved a far more agonizing departure.
‘…I will see her destroyed piece by piece.’
Happiness would be forbidden to her here. She would live only to suffer until the end.
With her resolve hardened, the Marchioness donned a mask of severity and whispered a set of orders to a trusted maid. The girl’s eyes widened briefly before a cruel smile touched her lips.
“Rest assured, Marchioness. I will see it done exactly as you wish.”
“It is time to rise. The day is already half gone.”
Elfreda fought to open her eyes at the sound of the biting voice. As she tried to shift, a sharp gasp of pain escaped her.
“Ah…!”
The ache in her lower back was a vivid reminder of the previous night. While Elfreda winced and struggled to sit upright, Marchioness Magnum watched her with a judgmental stare.
“Your duties to the King last night are no excuse for sloth this morning. Your itinerary is packed.”
In truth, the sun had barely risen, making the Marchioness’s jab feel particularly petty. Elfreda chose not to argue.
“What is required of me today?” she asked softly.
“A queen must host a gathering for the noblewomen to establish herself.”
In Machi, the queen relied heavily on the aristocracy to manage the palace’s many responsibilities. Often, the ladies-in-waiting possessed more institutional knowledge than the queen herself. Without their favor, the household could not function.
“I shall draft the invitations and set the time,” the Marchioness stated.
“No, I will handle it myself.”
“You?”
The Marchioness’s tone was thick with skepticism, but Elfreda remained firm.
“It is my first official act. I wish to do it personally.”
“As you like.”
The Marchioness did not press the issue further.
Once she was bathed and dressed, Elfreda took her place at her writing desk. She laid out fine parchment, a pen, and a reference book to ensure her grammar was flawless. The servants exchanged mocking grins at her earnestness, but Elfreda focused entirely on her task, carefully weighing every word.
“It is likely many will decline…”
She knew she had to convey genuine sincerity to stand any chance of them attending. It was a gamble, but…
‘I must give it my full effort.’
Eventually, she finished the task and handed the stack to the Marchioness, her eyes showing signs of fatigue.
“Please have these delivered.”
“Certainly. Now, you must begin reviewing the annual accounts for the Solar Palace.”
“…I will look at them now.”
Though exhaustion weighed on her, Elfreda kept a polite smile on her face.
The staff at the main palace looked universally miserable that morning, with the sole exception of Robert, who seemed in high spirits.
Ejnar eventually grew tired of the silence.
“Why is everyone sulking? Except for you, it seems.”
“I’ve just come into a significant amount of extra coin today, sire.”
When Ejnar gave him a look of confused annoyance, Robert clarified.
“You spent the night at the Solar Palace.”
“Everyone is acting absurdly regarding last night,” Ejnar snapped.
“Is it truly so shocking for a husband to visit his wife?”
“When that wife is the daughter of our enemies, yes,” Robert replied with a grin.
“I was the only one in the palace willing to bet that you’d actually go through with it.”
Ejnar looked at his servant with utter disgust.
