Previously
While drifting in and out of consciousness at a roadside inn, Jeanne is rescued by Baldur de Skadi, who criticizes the royal escort for her poor condition. She wakes up in a stone room within the Duke's castle, initially mistaking the thick northern fog for smoke from a fire.
When I stepped out after washing, the maid was nowhere to be seen, but laid out on the bed were clothes, a brush, and a ribbon for my hair. Feeling the modest reddish-brown dress, the fabric was far thicker than what I usually wore. It was likely meant for the cold weather.
As I changed into the fresh attire, I tried to imagine what kind of treatment awaited me here.
‘Of course, it won't be good….’
Though the material of the ankle-length dress seemed decent enough, it was hardly any different from the uniform of the maid who had just tended to me, save for the lack of an apron. Somehow, this garment felt like a measure of how the Duke intended to treat me going forward.
After dressing, I combed through my damp hair with my fingers and pinned it up. Then I sat on the bed and took in the room.
It was an utterly desolate space compared to my quarters in the royal palace. With no vanity, mirror, or desk, there was only a small side table beside the bed to hold a candle. Fortunately, it had an adjoining washroom, but the exposed masonry of the ceiling remained bare. On the wall beside the bed was a window no larger than a palm, while the adjacent wall held a fireplace and a stack of firewood, with no carpet to cover the bare stone floor.
‘A room fit for servants.’
Sitting on the bed, I spent a moment lost in thought. Soon, I arrived at a conclusion. Although my room had gone from a beautiful chamber adorned with gilding and ceiling frescoes to this, things were not quite as bleak as I had imagined before arriving.
‘Right, no need to be gloomy already. Come to think of it, the Viscountess gave me a room like this, too. Back then, it was an attic with a sloped ceiling, without so much as a tub or a washroom.’
Because of that, I had been forced to keep a chamber pot in the room, and whenever I wanted to wash, I had to trouble someone for warm water in a large basin and lug it up to the room myself. In a stroke of good fortune amidst misfortune, I was already accustomed to being treated like a servant. Had I fallen suddenly from a life of noble privilege, the shock would have been far worse.
‘This is better than back then. Besides, aren't I an exile now? I should be grateful to be treated this well.’
At any rate, I had survived the journey and arrived at my place of exile without dying along the way. Looking back, I could have been subjected to terrible torture in an underground dungeon to force a detailed confession to crimes I never committed, or I could have wasted away and perished on a cold stone floor while my trial was delayed indefinitely.
‘It's not the absolute worst.’
Following that train of thought, I realized that even I, who thought I had no backing whatsoever, had someone to rely on. That was young Lord Mael.
Of course, had I not become the young lord's tutor in the first place, I would never have been sent into exile. Yet if I had not been his tutor, how could I have provided for my family all this time? Young Lord Mael was unable to clear my name from the false charges, but he still possessed enough influence to write a letter asking Duke Skadi to look after me.
Still, what feelings must His Grace harbor toward me, having suddenly been burdened with a close confidante of young Lord Mael—a child of the King, but not born of the Queen?
‘I must be a nuisance….’
A sigh escaped me at the mere thought. Even so, I had to win the Duke's favor. My entire livelihood in the Skadi territory depended on his mercy.
‘But how?’
It seemed evident that the mannerisms used with central nobility would not work on him.
‘Mercy? Would such a thing as mercy even exist in a duke with barbarian blood flowing through his veins?’
I harbored prejudice against a man I had only just met. More precisely, it was prejudice against the Skadi family.
‘They say they are frightening people….’
Just as that thought crossed my mind, my stomach let out a loud rumble.
‘I'm hungry….’
It seemed the stew I had forced down had actually awakened my appetite. As if a dormant hunger had stirred awake, I suddenly felt famished. From then on, waiting for mealtime became agonizing.
‘Still, why did he invite me to dine? Because I'm a noble after all?’
How much time had passed? Even looking out the window, the sky was so dark and dreary that I could not fathom the hour.
When the maid finally returned, I was practically thrilled to see her.
Upon arriving in the dining hall, two things took me by surprise. First, the Duke was already seated, yet the table held only tableware without a single dish of food; second, he was the only other person present. Checking to see if anyone else was expected, I lifted the hem of my dress slightly and curtsied.
From his seat, he spoke.
A servant motioned me toward a seat near him. Dazed, I took the chair.
Glancing around without breaching etiquette, I noticed that while it lacked the extravagance of the royal palace, it possessed everything expected of a great ducal house. Tapestries hung along the walls of the dining hall, their designs apparently depicting hunts.
No sooner had I sat down than servants entered carrying plates of food. Each plate held only a modest portion, just enough for one person. Two plates with the same dishes and identical portions were placed before him and me respectively.
‘Hm?’
It was a curious practice.
‘I see.’
Hearing it put that way, it was a practical approach. At the royal palace, tables were usually laden with an overflowing spread where the finest dishes sat at the head; nobles seated at the far end could not even taste dishes out of reach unless someone above graciously passed them down. Small wonder the competition of loyalty to sit as close to His Majesty as possible was so fierce.
‘I wonder what else differs from Franc.’
Soon, we ate our food in silence.
I nodded hurriedly.
In truth, despite my dreadful hunger, the food did not taste particularly pleasant. Perhaps tailored for surviving the cold climate, every dish was greasy, and the sauces had flavors I had never encountered before. The only familiar taste was fish seasoned with salt and lemon juice. Perhaps because my stomach had gone without food for so long, or because the occasion was so tense, or perhaps because of both, my stomach soon began to churn.
‘I feel like I'm going to be sick.’
Yet how displeasing would it look if a noblewoman exiled from the capital merely picked at her plate, complaining the food didn't suit her? Holding back the rising bile and nausea, I took advantage of having spoken up to praise the local fare several times over.
Having received my compliments about the regional cuisine with dry indifference, he gestured to a servant. Before long, fresh servings of every dish I had barely managed to finish were placed before me once again.
‘Eat all this again…?’
This was why one should never lie.
As I stared down at the food and swallowed hard, the Duke spoke.
“I do not know how it is where you come from, but here, everyone works—regardless of age, gender, or rank. The land is vast and the work is plentiful, yet hands are few.”
Breaking down the food in front of me into pieces as small as possible, I forced them into my mouth and washed them down with the bubbling apple cider.
Struggling to swallow my food at those words, I looked up at Duke Skadi.
‘Me too?’
He had distinctly said 'regardless of gender' just a moment ago. Had I barely survived the trip here only to spend my days tilling soil and smashing rocks?
‘No… surely not that far….’