Chapter 5
Gyeongju felt dizzy from the warmth and the scent of food inside the study. What a blissful hell. Unconsciously licking her lips, she closed the door and stood before it.
Saxon sliced into a beef pie glistening with savory juices. A glass of fine wine and thick, white bread accompanied it in the very picture of luxury. The bread, fresh from the oven and still steaming, was a delicacy that commoners could only dream of. Gyeongju found herself swallowing restlessly.
The sight became agonizing as she struggled to control her overflowing saliva. Desperate to ignore the feast before her eyes, she scanned the study.
She could count on one hand the number of times she had been in this opulent room. The wall behind the desk, which had always looked oddly bare, now held a portrait of Saxon Clovis. She must have left it empty in preparation for this new painting style that was currently in vogue.
The painting depicting Duchess Clovis standing majestically, with this very study as her backdrop, was large enough to fill the entire wall. Wrapped in a crimson hood and wearing a shirt with a plunging neckline, the Saxon in the portrait radiated the dignity of a great house’s matriarch.
Even if she had committed the monstrous crime of raping her own sister and raised the illegitimate child in her home, Saxon remained a high noble of great social renown. In this society, birthright dictated character itself. Gyeongju felt no anger toward such societal absurdity. Such things are simply facts of life. And once something was a fact, it lost its power to hurt her.
“You are ever so silent whenever I see you. A very fine virtue for a maid.”
Saxon had already finished eating and was rinsing her mouth with wine. More than half the beef pie remained, carelessly pushed to the side of the plate. Gyeongju’s eyes wavered. The matriarch beckoned her closer.
Gyeongju did not sit in the chair opposite her, but instead knelt beside it. It was made easier by the plush carpet cushioning her legs. Casting a sidelong, satisfied look at the young girl kneeling beneath her, Saxon leaned deep into her fur-lined chair.
“You are likely aware of the news that the newly ascended vampire queen is seeking a bride.”
“Yes, Duchess.”
Her heart pounded, though she could not yet tell why. Was Rose to be sent away? No, after defying her wife to confine an illegitimate child in her house, Saxon would not let her go so easily. As Gyeongju maintained the deep bow, heat rose in her body, not solely due to the warmth of the study.
“Every noble house within the Forza region must submit a candidate for marriage. As you know, the unmarried daughter in our house is…”
The woman swallowed her words with a groan. Rose was the only unmarried daughter among Saxon’s offspring bearing the Clovis name. Though she was concealed from formal society, rumors of her parentage were an open secret.
“Naturally, I have no intention of putting that child’s name forward, yet eyes and ears are everywhere.”
As was typical for any family accumulating wealth through noble status, Saxon possessed many enemies. As the Forza region emerged as a hub of international trade, friction had only further intensified between the rapidly growing merchant guild and the nobility.
The nobles colluded with local officials to levy exorbitant taxes on the guild, and opposing forces were banding together to expand their influence. To preempt any threat, Saxon had recently doubled the number of mercenaries guarding her carriage.
Gyeongju’s mind raced, and her hunger was forgotten. On an empty stomach, her thoughts organized themselves with absolute clarity.
“Do you intend to hide Lady Rose somewhere outside the manor?” she probed gently.
Saxon’s brows twitched.
“Ah, I had forgotten. You are no ordinary girl.”
She burst into a hearty laugh, slapping her thigh several times. Then she raised Gyeongju into the air, and seated her in the chair opposite.
Now they were sitting eye to eye. Gyeongju recalled the other times she had sat like this with Saxon, speaking frankly and striking her own bargains.
Three years ago, Gyeongju had lived in Kintol, the slum district of Forza, selling candles. People called her the candle girl, the young girl with completely shaven red hair who spent her days wandering Sierra Square to save her sick sister.
The filth and stench of the slums, a rotten odor that seemed to flow through her veins instead of blood, turned her stomach. I am not going back. Even if I die, I am not going back. Gyeongju gritted her teeth and held her breath, awaiting Saxon’s next words.
* * *
In Kintol, Gyeongju’s day began with shaving her head strangely using a finely honed blade. The goal was to intentionally make her small, fair bald head look unsightly. It wasn’t that she was ignorant of her own beauty, but she actively chose to reject it.
Living on the streets as a young and pretty woman made an already grueling existence even more dangerous. Yet people displayed a strange sympathy toward a girl who looked dirty and unsightly.
The image of a young child with a messy, shaven head made people recoil, yet that same pitiful appearance made it slightly easier to sell her candles. And then there was her small, frail sister. Gyeongju loved her more than anything, but felt no hesitation in utilizing her to survive.
After wandering the streets for over ten years, Gyeongju had cultivated a talent for surviving under any circumstance.
With one side of her head deliberately shaved in patches, Gyeongju gathered Inju, who was sleeping among prostitutes. Hoisting the whimpering girl onto her back, she secured her tightly with a thin blanket so she would not fall.
“Leaving already?”
“I am sorry, Dvina. Did I wake you? I heard there is an execution in front of City Hall today. I wish to secure a spot before the crowds gather.”
“My, you are so young, but so very fearless. Seeing such gruesome things is bad for you.”
Gyeongju merely smiled without replying. Crowds gathered like clouds in the square on execution days, and those who witnessed cruel sights often grew excited and spent money recklessly. Years of selling on the streets had taught her that much about human nature.
“Instead of suffering on the streets like this, let me use my connections for you at the inn. You will make more money selling your body while you are still young.”
“That talk again. I said I do not wish to. Inju will hear, so do not say such things.”
“If you grow older, you will not be able to sell even if you try, girl.”
The plump woman slipped a pair of shoes on Inju’s small feet protruding from the blanket. They were woven from leather scraps obtained from a workshop.
“Your sister is growing as well. How do you expect to make a living selling candles alone?”
“It seems a bit chilly today. Dvina, please cover Inju with that blanket over there.”
“Honestly, you always listen to words through the back of your ears.”
Dvina was a woman who sold her body at an inn in Sierra Square, like most women who had settled in Kintol. They sold their bodies, their voices, their dances, their music. Under the common goal of survival, they sold whatever they could.
Among such women, Gyeongju only entrusted Inju to those who did not waste money on liquor and gambling. Kintol bustled with folk from the lower classes who had gathered from all over, but they were always generous toward young children. Dvina, in particular, nagged severely but possessed a warm nature that could not ignore those in need. So on days that she was not working, Gyeongju always left Inju in her care.
“If I sell a lot today, I shall buy the tart you like, Dvina.”
“Oh my! As if I would steal pennies from a beggar. Never mind that, dear.”
Dvina waved her hand dismissively, then covered herself with the blanket and went back to sleep. Adjusting Inju’s weight on her back, Gyeongju giggled softly to herself. A good start to the day usually brought a good end.
Today would bring good fortune. With that thought, she stepped right into a puddle of urine that someone had left during the night and set off toward the square.
