Episode 1
“I’ll finally be able to kill you.”
Her body ached as it lay sprawled across the floor. Eda looked up with difficulty.
What came into view was a blindingly beautiful face with thick eyebrows, large cat-like eyes, and crimson red lips smiling brightly.
Her figure with its voluptuous curves was confined by a suffocatingly tight black outfit.
Eda would have been quite found of this beautiful woman if it weren’t for the fact that she was responsible for beating her senseless and was now stepping on her face with her shoe.
Ingrid Ascota.
As the daughter of a prominent family and the true power behind the grand duchy, it was only natural that no one would stop her.
No, even before that, no one ever took the side of the wretched barbarian, Eda.
That was how the world worked.
They always called Eda the weak one, and treated her with all the violence and contempt as if it were natural. As if it were a sin to be alive.
So in the end, Ingrid has decided to kill me.
Foreseeing her own end, Eda briefly considered begging the woman. Her life had been hopeless and worthless, yet still Eda wanted to live.
Seeing Eda groveling on the floor, Ingrid’s violet eyes curved sweetly.
“Oh, Eda.”
Whenever those eyes sparkled with light, only cruel things happened to Eda.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
There was no need for a reason. A wife with the same husband, wasn’t that enough reason to die?
But perhaps that wasn’t enough for Ingrid, because she grabbed Eda by the hair and yanked her up, lifting her chin.
“Ugh.”
Ingrid gently wiped the corner of Eda’s torn lips where blood trickled.
“Our foolish little Eda… You really don’t know anything, do you?”
“……”
“Our husband is dead.”
“……!”
“Your and my— our husband. Ivar, the son of a bitch is dead. They said he died while riding his horse.”
At those words, Eda almost screamed in spite of herself. She knew exactly what it meant to have a husband to die.
“We don’t have a son between us, so his brother, Astaldo, will become king.”
She chuckled to herself.
“You know, too, what happens when a successor ascends the throne, don’t you?”
Yes, Eda knew. Ingrid had been right. She was going to die soon.
* * *
Eda was the daughter of the Mahina Ducal House, a family branded as “barbarians.”
It was something even a passing dog would laugh at.
Mahina and Duke. What an ill-fitting pair of words. Even calling them a ducal house was a joke in itself.
About a hundred years ago, under the assimilation policy of Emperor Bohgor, a descendant of the exalted Line of the Sun, the head of the Mahina Tribe united the minor tribes and was granted a title, becoming nobility.
To them, who had once lived tribal lives, a surname and a title were utterly unfitting.
The Duke of Mahina had no power to govern his own territory, and even less strength to defend it against the seasoned predators who sought their land.
And so, they preserved their house by marrying off their women into other noble families, barely keeping their bloodline alive.
In short, they sold off their women to keep their house alive.
Fortunately for them, the blood of House Mahina produced breathtaking beauty.
And not just that.
Those born of their line possessed strong, resilient bodies. In other words, they were excellent ‘stallions’ for breeding.
To be born with the so-called “blessings” and abilities passed down from the Line of the Sun was one of the greatest privileges.
And that was how Eda was able to become the ‘Grand Duchess’ of the Grand Duchy of Wesselwolf.
Ivar, the Grand Duke of Wesselwolf, had high expectations, but the beautiful daughter of House Mahina was nowhere to be seen. In her place stood a woman as thin and brittle as a rotting branch.
She wasn’t someone a man could love at first sight. Eda’s silver hair was dry and coarse, and her face was pale and lifeless.
When she cast her eyes downward, she looked like something far less than noble.
Ivar was furious at the sight of her. He had hurled many insults at Eda, but only one line remained etched in her memory:
“A wench unworthy to lie with!”
It was the first time in her life she had heard such words. It was a vulgar, degrading insult. But Eda had to endure. She had to adapt to this place.
“Eda, I need your help.”
It was the request of her beloved older brother, Risonel.
Risonel had been the only one to show her kindness after she lost her mother and sister.
Even though she already had a child, Eda’s mother became involved with the duke and became pregnant during his diplomatic journey The child that came of it was Eda.
For some reason, her mother took Eda and her older sister and wandered the land. In the end, she died on the streets.
Later, through a search conducted by the ducal family, Eda was taken in after a life of wandering.
In that unfamiliar place, everyone ostracized and harassed her. Her father was no different. But Risonel was.
His kindness was what kept Eda alive.
That was why she had to survive here, even if it killed her. Even if she was broken, even if she lost her sweet voice from a poisoned cup offered with a smile.
Ivar, for all his beauty, was a lustful man, and surrounded himself with women.
Merchants’ daughters, women from brothels, and lowly nobles— his tastes varied, and all those women lived together in the Grand Duchy.
Ingrid was one of them. No, Ingrid was different. She couldn’t be lumped together with “those women.”
Perhaps it was because the title was just below the king, or perhaps it was simply Wesselwolf tradition, the Grand Duke of Wesselwolf was allowed to have two official wives.
In other words, there was another Grand Duchess besides Eda.
Naturally, a fellow Grand Duchess like Ingrid would never welcome Eda.
Ingrid was the kind of woman who had to have everything for herself. Unfortunately, Ivar was a playboy.
All the women Ivar brought into the Grand Duchy could fend for themselves. Only Eda had no one to back her up.
She was the perfect prey. That was why Ivar stood by and watched as the ill-tempered Ingrid took out her fury on Eda.
That’s not to say that Ivar refrained from doing the same.
To the shabby wife from Mahina who had humiliated him, he vented his anger in all sorts of ways.
If Ingrid expressed her rage through violence, Ivar humiliated her through every filthy method imaginable.
Eda shuddered at the memory of “those scenes.”
And now, that man—husband—was dead.
After Ingrid left, Eda had to dress in black and attend the funeral.
Draped in mourning clothes, she stood among her husband’s concubines, holding a basket of white flowers.
Eda looked upon her husband’s body lying in the open coffin.
They said it was a carriage accident. Or a fall from horseback. Or perhaps he was mauled by one of the many wolves said to roam Wesselwolf.
In truth, it didn’t matter. She was bound to die any day now so why would something like that matter?
A dull ringing filled her ears.
The solemn funeral hymn echoed through the air. People feigned just enough sadness to appear respectful. And inside the coffin, her husband’s corpse lay with a grotesque expression, eyes wide open in death.
The entire scene felt like a staged play, and Eda felt sick to her stomach.
She had seen many things in her life, but even so, she knew—
Wesselwolf was just as strange a place as Mahina, with its own brutal laws.
The moment a successor ascended the throne, any woman who was not the successor’s birth mother, meaning all former wives and lovers of the previous heir, were to be put to death.
It was to eliminate any chance of a potential heir from sprouting within them.
To be exact, they were officially said to be “confined,” but in reality, they were simply left to die—no food, no care, as if feeding them was a waste of resources.
Eda had learned the truth while hiding in the Confinement Palace, having fled there to escape the torment of Ingrid and the other women.
The silence there was chilling, as if life itself had abandoned the place.
And when hunger drove her to sneak into the food storeroom, she overheard the servants whispering and learned her fate.
“Do we not have to prepare meals for the Confinement Palace?”
“What would the dead need to eat for?”
“…Sorry?”
“There’s no one in there to begin with. Everyone who goes in dies. Why would the new Grand Duke keep those women alive?”
She had heard there were only two ways to survive.
One was if you were the daughter of a powerful family, you could pay an enormous sum and be released. But the Mahina Dukedom would never come to rescue Eda.
There was a second way to live, but it was so absurd and irrelevant to Eda at all that she shook her head and dismissed the thought.
Just then, with a heavy creak, the doors opened. At the same time, there was a metallic clank.
The funeral hymn came to a halt, and the doors to the great hall began to open. Even the low sound of the doors moving seemed like part of the grand music.
The wider the doors opened, the more golden sunlight poured in, forming rectangular patterns across the floor.
In the center of it stood the silhouette of a man, like a black pillar.
The man with his back to the light was not dressed in mourning attire. Strangely, he was carrying something wrapped in cloth.
As he stepped forward, thick military boots came into view, followed by black leather armor, gleaming gauntlets, and a cloak adorned with the snarling face of a wolf.
Astaldo Wesselwolf.
Her husband’s younger brother. The man who would inherit the title of Grand Duke.
As he entered, Ingrid let out a deliberately dramatic wail, as if overcome with grief.
SoundlessWind21’s Notes:
If there are any errors, whether it be grammatical, spelling, translation, or website-related issues, feel free to let me know. (´◡`) Anyway, thank you for reading!