Chapter 8
8. The Maid of the Bridal Chamber2021.09.26.
“Hey!”
At the fierce hands grabbing and shaking her shoulders, Reina’s eyes flew open in terror.
“What happened! Did you sleep? Did you sleep with Sir Arthur?!”
Startled, Reina bolted upright in bed. The soft blankets slipped off her body, letting the cold air touch her bare skin. Huh? Bare skin?
“!”
Reina flinched and yanked the blankets up to cover herself. Behind the black-haired maid, who was pressing her forehead with a sigh of exasperation, another maid stood fidgeting anxiously, stamping her feet.
“What are you going to do! Do you think the lady will let you off easy?!”
Reina’s face drained of color as she took in her own state. Clothes. My clothes. Where are they? A maid waking up naked in the lady’s bridal chamber greeted a fresh morning. * * *
“Wash yourself up however you like.”
The two maids irritably glared down at the bathtub they’d brought and announced curtly. ……Not that I want to show you my naked body either? Reina replied.
“Of course. Th……thank you. For bringing the bathtub…….”
……Her words came out stammering involuntarily. It wasn’t like she’d chosen to end up in this situation. Perhaps feeling out of place where she shouldn’t be made her shrink back. The maids grumbled but set up a partition around the bathtub before sitting on the bed a good distance away from Reina, turning their backs to her.
“…….”
Confirming that the backs of their heads weren’t moving, Reina quickly slipped out of bed and tiptoed hurriedly into the partitioned area. Then, she frantically checked her body all over.
‘Right? It is, isn’t it?!’
Reina let out a sigh of relief without realizing it.
‘Nothing happened!’
Only her corset was missing, and her body was clean. If anything had happened, she wouldn’t be in this fluffy state. From her experience five years ago, Reina was almost certain that nothing had occurred between her and Sir Arthur last night. And at the same time, she clutched her hair, her eyes shaking uneasily. ……They’d definitely been at the triumphal procession?
‘I can’t remember.’
She remembered shaking her hands all night until dawn began to break. She took the warmed grape wine and drank it…… But after that, nothing came to mind. What happened afterward? Why am I here? Where did the dress and corset I was wearing go, and how did I end up in this bedroom sleeping? She couldn’t remember a single thing……
“…….”
Wait, bedroom? A sudden chill made Reina stiffen and lift her head rigidly, scanning her surroundings.
“…….”
The black carpet embroidered with gold thread, the chandelier on the ceiling. The gauzy curtains and the finest wall fireplace. The familiar famous paintings on the walls and luxurious ornaments. And the familiar furniture arrangement……. Reina knew exactly where this was, having been mobilized for its cleaning and preparation for over a month, coming and going constantly. This was……
‘The lady’s and Sir Arthur’s bridal chamber!’
Her head rang, and the hairs on her body stood on end. The maid’s voice, stamping her feet and saying the lady wouldn’t let her get away with it, echoed in her ears. * * * Arthur lit his cigar at the end and crossed his legs. To his right sat Marquis Julius and the Marchioness with expressions too complex to describe. And the man named ‘Rembrandt Eaton von Klein’ took a seat opposite after introductions. The Empress’s nephew, they said. The marquis couple seemed quite conscious of his gaze. Arthur exhaled smoke to the side and smiled plainly.
“Did you rest well last night?”
“…….”
At the greeting as if he were the host, the marquis’s face flushed red and pale by turns.
‘Is this your house? You insolent brat!’
If not for Lord Rembrandt, he would have yelled. Arthur continued nonchalantly.
“I heard you came early this morning. Sorry for keeping you waiting. As you know, I handled the triumphal procession through the night and only returned at dawn, so I slept in a bit.”
Arthur brought the cigar back to his lips and smiled.
“Truth be told, I’m not used to receiving this much hot attention. Over the past years, I’ve been remiss, failing to deliver news sooner that might have drawn your interest more quickly.”
There was a sting in his words. The interpretation went like this: <You ignored me all those five years, and now that the fire’s at your feet, you’re scrambling. You didn’t spare a speck of interest while I was on the battlefield. Why didn’t you show some sooner? The midnight triumphal procession was a laugh.> His voice flowed elegantly.
“I had no idea you’d show such excessive interest and committed a rudeness. I was surprised by this sudden and overly generous sincerity. Thank you to the family elders for welcoming me so graciously.”
The interpretation was: <I see you’re quite well-off, judging by that triumphal procession? So affluent, yet what have you done these past five years?> The marquis hardened his face, mindful of Lord Rembrandt sitting across the table. The Marchioness gripped her trembling teacup in her hand, recalling the events of that dawn. · · ·
“Welcoming you like this in the middle of the night leaves me at a loss.”
Upon entering the mansion, Arthur spoke without even looking at them, adjusting the woman in his arms.
“Of course, it would have been even happier if you’d welcomed me during the day. A pity.”
She saw the knight following Arthur turn his head with a cough, stifling a sneer. The marquis trembled with rage, clenching his fists, and glared at them in silence. He wanted to shout as his temper demanded, but this was the middle of the mansion’s corridor.
‘Rembrandt, Rembrandt, Rembrandt……!’
Engraving the name of the unknown guest somewhere in the mansion like a mantra of endurance, the marquis swallowed his bellow deep in his throat. Meanwhile, the Marchioness was dumbfounded at the sight of Arthur carrying Reina, still dressed, asleep in his arms.
‘……She’s asleep?’
Clinging shamelessly in a man’s arms like that—what is that? Everyone will think ‘that’ is our Christina! The Marchioness pointed a trembling finger at Reina in Arthur’s arms and stammered.
“Hey, Sir Arthur……. That girl…… Th……our Christina, why is she……in your arms like that……?”
Arthur tilted his head slightly with an enigmatic smile. At that moment, the head butler appeared from around the corridor’s corner, his face pale, hurrying over with quick steps. Though he tried to feign composure with a stiff expression, his panic showed in his hurried gait, urgent tone, and the vein bulging on his forehead. The butler came close to the Marchioness and lowered his voice.
“Madam. Lord Rembrandt is here. Right in front of this corridor…….”
And the butler’s troubled gaze shifted to Arthur and Reina in his arms. The marquis couple burst out almost in unison.
“You’ve done enough! Go up and rest off the fatigue! The triumphal procession must have been exhausting!”
“The maids have prepared the bed! Hurry up and go rest!”
· · · And so the marquis couple stood sweating coldly before Rembrandt. Excuses about fatigue from the all-night triumphal procession, about catching up after five years reunited with Christina. They blabbered on in a frenzy, sweating bullets. Fortunately, their efforts paid off, and Lord Rembrandt smiled, accepting that he couldn’t meet ‘Arthur and Christina’ right away. Gratefully, he magnanimously overlooked the marquis breaking a prior promise. But then from his lips came the question of whether he could look forward to a meeting tomorrow. If he were merely a court painter, they could have postponed the portrait schedule, but he was the Emperor’s nephew by marriage. As imperial family, his desire for a prompt meeting took priority over all, leaving the marquis couple to nod hurriedly and promise the very next day as their first order of business. They’d barely managed to placate Lord Rembrandt and turned with a sigh of relief, thinking only Arthur remained to handle.
“……What?”
Upon hearing the maid’s report that Sir Arthur had taken Reina up and truly occupied the lady’s bridal chamber, the Marchioness wore an expression unlike any she’d ever made in her life. At the news that he’d even dismissed the servants saying he didn’t want to be disturbed, her eye twitched and her mouth fell open.
“Ha…….”
“Go up and rest” had meant go up briefly and wait for us. Not to actually go and do it. Sure, even for a legendary couple, noble arranged marriages were like that. Someone of his status could have as many mistresses as he wanted. But no matter how offended or eager to insult us, surely not this. Bringing a mistress into the bridal chamber prepared for my daughter first? · · · Thinking she had to calm this situation in place of her husband, who was powerless to improve it, the Marchioness’s insides burned black with rage. That was the room for Christina to use. How long had she meticulously prepared that bridal chamber? Arthur must have guessed they’d prepared it with the intent to say “let’s make this work now.” And yet to insult Christina like this.
“…….”
The Marchioness gripped her teacup and opened her mouth.
“What thanks? It’s only natural. Sir Arthur, was the bed comfortable? I hope it was to your liking. We put a lot of thought into preparing it.”
She added with an intimate smile, as if chewing it over.
“It’s a room where not a single lowly thing could enter.”
Arthur replied with a smiling face.
“It was the best. Thank you for the consideration.”
He brushed off the cigar ash, a smile playing at his lips, and continued smoothly.
“Especially ‘Christina’ was the best. My wife.”
A stiff smile settled on the Marchioness’s face.
“Ah, was she?”
“Yes. Nothing in the room could compare. She was splendid. How did you raise your daughter so well? She’s too good for me.”
A chill hung over the table. The Marchioness finally smiled coldly and struck at Arthur.
“No need for such words. It suits Sir Arthur’s overflowing dignity and noble bloodline.”
This noble-speak translated to: <Lowborn.>
“Madam!”
The marquis growled lowly.
“Ahem.”
And Lord Rembrandt covered his mouth with a cough.
“!”
In that instant, the Marchioness realized her mistake. Lord Rembrandt was the Emperor’s nephew by marriage. In other words, the Empress’s nephew. In her anger, she’d mocked Arthur’s origins by prattling about “noble bloodline” before the Empress’s nephew, against the Emperor’s illegitimate son. Whether it sounded like mockery or flattery, it was disastrous. Embarrassment showed on the Marchioness’s face.
“Ah, it’s fine.”
Rembrandt removed the hand from his mouth, revealing a face with a faint lingering smile.
“By the way, you make ‘Lady Christina’ sound all the more intriguing? Truth be told, I was looking forward to finally seeing the legendary couple together today.”
Rembrandt continued straight to Arthur.
“Meeting Sir Arthur like this is a great honor in itself, but I must admit I have a bit of interest in the famous ‘Lady Christina’ as well. Of course, only to the extent it doesn’t offend your wife with her sacred marriage vows.”
Sensing how much the marquis couple minded Lord Rembrandt, Arthur smiled leisurely at him.
“Is that so? I heard you’ve been staying here for nearly a week, but it seems you haven’t greeted my wife yet.”
The marquis and Marchioness gripped their hands sweaty, watching Arthur’s mouth anxiously, fearing he might say, “I’ll introduce my wife right now. Let’s go meet her,” and stand up. Rembrandt smiled inwardly, recalling his meeting with ‘Reina.’ It’s not that I haven’t greeted ‘that wife,’ but I can’t say that. Rembrandt answered based on ‘Christina.’
“Yes, I’ve only glimpsed her from afar. She’s so very proper.”
