RXN 08

Chapter 8

As if to prove the rumor true — that all the world’s beautiful women gathered in the Emperor’s harem — the spacious bathhouse was lined with rare beauties of all kinds: women from the northern continent with white, pale skin and light hair; women from the southern continent with healthy skin and generally dark hair; Eastern women with apricot-like fair skin and ebony-black hair; and women from the Black Continent with slender, black-pearl-like shining bodies.

> *”All these women belong to the master. Women from all over the world come here, learn new ways of living and the rules of serving the master, and then receive names befitting them. The especially beautiful or fortunate ones do not wait long before they are chosen and favored by the master. But some who incur the master’s wrath are put into sacks and thrown into the sea, and there are many pitiful women who are forever forgotten after a single night.”*

Melis, who had approached Roxanne’s side at some point, spoke in a flat tone, recounting this bitter tale.

> *”The harem is the most beautiful golden cage in the world. The owner of the cage catches beautiful birds and locks them here, then forgets them — but the birds, having forgotten how to fly freely, only sing in vain, waiting for their owner to look back at them. Likewise, these women spend their days sitting before mirrors, adorning themselves beautifully as they wait for the master. Then one day, they suddenly discover they are no longer young or beautiful, and fall into despair.”*

No matter how splendid and beautiful the cage, a bird that cannot freely soar through the blue sky can never be happy. And a bird that has forgotten how to fly is no longer a bird, no matter how beautiful its feathers.

“If these women have been forgotten by the master, perhaps it is not because they are not beautiful, but simply because they are only beautiful.”

Hearing Roxanne murmur as she gazed at the beauties of all kinds filling the harem’s bathhouse, Melis’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Roxanne. Indeed, most of the women trapped here wasted away, believing they were no longer beautiful enough for the emperor to look at them. Losing the emperor’s favor was not simply because one was no longer beautiful, but that was something that could not be taught — it had to be realized on one’s own.

“What is your name?”

“Roxanne.”

Melis only took note of the girl’s clever eyes and asked nothing more, said nothing more. This harem, which appeared outwardly beautiful and peaceful, was in fact a treacherous cliffside mountain where a single wrong word or a single wrong step could send one tumbling into an endless abyss. Having lived in the emperor’s harem for over a decade since being brought as a slave in childhood, from the time of the previous emperor to the present, Melis had witnessed the rise and fall of countless women — but she had never once interfered with them. By maintaining that attitude, Melis had managed to remain the head maid of the harem all this time without ever becoming the subject of gossip.

“After you finish bathing, come find me, and I will introduce you to the teachers who will instruct you.”

The women who had been stealing glances until then, now that Melis had left, turned their curious and wary gazes — mixed with a strange look — toward Roxanne and Anna, who stood stranded in the spacious bathhouse like sacks of barley left behind. Like Anna, who was terrified and at a loss, Roxanne was equally flustered, but she deliberately straightened her back to avoid shrinking away. As the two looked around for a suitable spot, a dark-skinned servant wearing only a wide cloth like a skirt covering her lower body approached them.

“Lady Aisha summons you.”

‘Aisha?’

It was a name she had never heard before, so she hesitated for a moment, but she didn’t want to show fear to those watching her.

‘Roxanne von Marcel, there is nothing to fear.’

With the pride of being the lady of the House of Marcel engraved in her heart, Roxanne followed the servant with confident steps. Anna also followed hesitantly. Entering a small reception room guided by the servant, three women were each seated comfortably on divans with plush cushions, chatting. They were all completely naked, but far from showing any embarrassment, they seemed to take pride in their own beauty. Of course, even to Roxanne, a woman herself, they were beautiful enough to be proud of.

For a long time, Roxanne and Anna stood beside the servant, waiting for their conversation to end. The women chattered about trivial matters of jewelry and fabrics, paying no attention to Roxanne who was waiting. Finally, one of the women who had been laughing and talking among themselves lifted her head and acknowledged them.

“Oh my, we invited a guest and made her wait so long while we chattered among ourselves.”

At that, the women who had not even glanced at her as if she didn’t exist turned their eyes to Roxanne all at once, as if by agreement. Assuming Roxanne would not understand the Run language, she spoke in heavily accented Roinese, as if granting a favor.

‘Is that woman Aisha?’

Despite the bright smile on her lips, her eyes were far from friendly — a complex mix of wariness, probing, contempt, superiority, and an inexplicable restlessness. Though she pretended to be calm, Roxanne realized that Aisha had probably been watching her every move anxiously ever since she entered the reception room — or perhaps since she entered the bathhouse following Melis, or even since she heard the rumor that the emperor himself had brought a woman. At that thought, Roxanne felt a little more at ease.

When Aisha rose, a quick-witted servant draped a splendid robe over her. With the robe loosely worn, she met Roxanne’s eyes without a trace of tension and approached. Suddenly, she slapped the servant who had guided them across the face. Though Anna, standing beside her, covered her mouth with both hands, she couldn’t hide her startled gasp. But at Aisha’s deeply hostile action, Roxanne only furrowed her brows and showed no reaction. The servant, struck without warning, collapsed to her knees on the spot, not knowing what she had done wrong.

“Lady Aisha.”

“Just what did you do, and how, that newly arrived slaves behave so insolently, not knowing their place?”

“Forgive me. I merely conveyed what I was commanded to convey.”

“Then are you saying this is all my fault?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Silence. Do you truly wish to taste the sting of my rod?”

By then, a switch had been placed in her hand by another servant. At the sight of the thin but sturdy switch, the servant prostrated herself on the floor, begging.

“Lady Aisha, please have mercy…”

*Whack!*

But before she could finish, the switch in Aisha’s hand cut through the air and left a red mark on the servant’s back.

“Ugh!”

Watching the servant grit her teeth and stifle a scream, Roxanne unconsciously clenched her fists. Though it was the servant prostrate on the floor who was being struck, Aisha’s gaze was fixed on Roxanne. In other words, Aisha was using the switch on the servant as a warning to Roxanne not to act arrogantly. Anna, who had also realized the meaning, knelt on the spot and bowed her head to the floor.

“Please forgive her — she didn’t know, as this is her first time.”

Glancing down at Anna’s back, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Aisha’s mouth, and she raised her eyes to look at Roxanne as if to say “you’re next.”

“Miss, please bow your head like I did.”

Anna, still prostrate on the floor, quietly tugged at Roxanne’s hem and whispered. But Roxanne pretended not to hear, standing with her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Aisha’s eyes narrowed.

“Were you a noble?”

Instead of Roxanne, who kept her mouth shut, Anna quickly answered.

“Yes, Lady Roxanne is… Aaah!”

But before she could finish, the switch in Aisha’s hand struck Anna’s back, and a sharp scream burst out.

> *”Lady? What ‘lady’? Once you enter the harem, your past status means nothing. You no longer need to attend to that woman, nor should you. You are both nothing but slaves. From now on, you will not call her ‘Lady Roxanne’ — just Roxanne.”*

Anna, who had grown up as a kitchen maid in the House of Marcel since childhood she could barely remember, looked awkwardly at Roxanne at the command to dare call a duke’s daughter by her name alone. Before Anna could stammer and fail to answer under Aisha’s fierce glare, Roxanne stepped forward and bent one knee, bowing her body.

“I am Roxanne. I am still unfamiliar with the ways of this place and have made a mistake. Please understand with generosity, Lady Aisha.”

For a moment, it seemed even the flow of air had stopped — not a single breath could be heard. After a pause, Aisha’s face spread with satisfaction, and she spoke in a much gentler voice.

“I will forgive you since it’s your first time. But if you act arrogantly even once more, I will break that neck of yours so that you will never raise your head again.”

Then the women who had been chatting with Aisha chimed in with taunts.

“How many women have tried to catch His Majesty’s eye, only to be bundled up and thrown into the Benetus Sea without a trace? You wouldn’t want to end up like that, would you?”

The reason they had summoned Roxanne was to warn her to stay quiet and out of the emperor’s sight.

“She doesn’t seem to be a completely foolish woman, so she should understand.”

The three women burst into laughter and passed by Roxanne, still kneeling, and left the reception room. Roxanne kept her head bowed until their laughter could no longer be heard, biting her inner lip so hard that a sharp pain spread through her mouth, filling it with the bitter taste of blood.