Chapter 44
“Nothing special?”
“Yes. Very gentle and good-natured, like a well-behaved child.”
Thelma knew why he was asking; to him, Rashid was more than just bloodline, more than just a lord, he was the culmination of everything he had accomplished. He had saved an entire tribe with his life and secured Riga’s position, even at the cost of his daughter.
That’s why he didn’t want anyone by his side who could sway Rashid even a little. Especially since he’d already seen what happens when Riga gives in to weakness.
So Rigaina should be a nobody, harmless and easily thrown away at any time. That way, the woman would be fine.
“It’s true that Master Rashid cares about her, but it seems to be more of a thank you for protecting Madam Elysia’s keepsake. He’s certainly not a man who pays his debts in the first place, is he?”
“Right.”
Calante nodded. Rashid had always been a gracious man. Others would never disagree. For so far, Rashid had never punished those who had tried to kill him in the past.
But Calante knew what Rashid was thinking. Rashid knew in his heart that it was not the elders to whom he owed a debt, but the Basque chieftain, and ultimately, the Kingdom of Lysa.
If they were to stand up to the Kingdom of Lysa, they couldn’t afford to have divisions within the tribe right now.
Now was the time to feed and strengthen the people; then to unite the scattered Ardennes; and then, when they were finally strong enough to stand up to Lysa, if there were any elders who were still out of it, they would no longer be at Riga’s mercy.
No one could read Riga’s mind. The elders were content, at best, to unite the Ardennes. The thought of having Lysa under their feet was unthinkable.
Of course, if they had read Riga’s thoughts at all, an idiot like Krell wouldn’t have come out.
“How are the preparations for the banquet coming along?”
Two days later, the welcome banquet, which had been postponed due to Rigaina’s injury, is held. For a while, the castle was crowded with merchants coming and going.
“Everything is going smoothly. Is there anything else you want me to do about it?”
“Keep an eye on her on the day of the banquet, lest she cause any trouble or take advantage of the crowd to run away.”
“You needn’t worry about that. Rigaina already seems to have adjusted to life here.”
“She’ll be back soon.”
“……sorry?”
“I suppose you haven’t heard the news yet, though I suppose there’s no harm in spreading the word among the lower orders.”
He sighed lightly and continued, “Riga intends to send her back, so I want you to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
Thelma quickly lowered her eyes. “Yes, I will keep a watchful eye.”
Afterward, Thelma bowed her head and said, “If you have nothing else to say, I will take my leave.”
As she turned away, a voice rang out behind her. “Remember this. That even after you kill Elysia, it is only for Riga’s sake that your wretched life is still hanging on.”
Thelma bit her lip in silence, glad she’d heard that when her back was turned to him. Otherwise, he would have seen the look on her face.
“Of course.”
Thelma stalked out of the room without looking back.
Heading straight for the stables by the garden, Thelma spotted a young girl heading for the well with a heavy pile of laundry. She was wearing unusually old and dirty clothes. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, and her ankles were shackled.
Suddenly, Thelma saw a reflection of herself as a child.
[How dare you!]
A strong hand grabbed her by the hair, and she was dragged for a long time, until she finally hit the dirt. A flurry of punches and kicks followed.
After a while, she gave up counting how many people were hitting her. She was in too much pain to care.
[How dare a slave learn to read?]
One day, when she was about twelve years old, Thelma was cleaning the study and sneaking a peek at a book, only to be caught by another maid.
If that had been the end of it, she would have gotten a slap on the face. Touching a book made of precious paper brought from Lysa was a big mistake, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be beaten in public like this.
Trouble was, after much questioning, she admitted to knowing how to read, and Thelma was dragged to the back of the mansion and beaten. How dare a slave secretly learn a language they didn’t know.
Here in the Ardennes, the treatment of slaves, the lowest of the low, was even harsher than in the Kingdom of Lysa. At least in Lysa, there were some laws protecting slaves, but here, even that was non-existent.
And, ironically, it was the same ruling class that persecuted slaves the most, especially those who were born to slave parents, like Thelma. Thelma was beaten and trampled on daily by the servants and maids here.
Knowing that she would be punished for this, Thelma learned to read for a simple reason. Even if she was destined to be born a slave, live a slave, and die a slave, she was curious. What the world looked like, what happened in places she didn’t know, what other people did with their lives. It was simple things like that that she wanted to know so badly.
So she learned to read. Mostly, she learned by looking over her shoulder as she cleaned, using the time when the younger apprentices were learning to read.
She was gifted and learned faster than others. After a year or so, she was able to understand the contents of books.
She was careful not to be seen, but one day, she was so engrossed in the book that she didn’t realize there was someone next to her.
“Stop!”
With that single command, the flying punches and kicks came to an abrupt halt. Thelma lowered her hand from her head and looked up. Blinking her swollen, hard-to-open eyes, she saw a blurred image of someone blocking her path. Thelma quickly realized that it was the lady of the mansion.
“What is this?”
Thelma couldn’t make out her words, but she knew she was chastising those who had beaten her. For her voice sounded very angry.
With that, Thelma blacked out, and when she awoke, she was lying in a bed with a fluffy quilt, not in the small, shabby room she had been in until then.
[Lie down more, the doctor says your face is swollen and we need to monitor your progress].
Elysia said, closing the book she was reading by the bedside. Then she turned to Thelma, who still had a puzzled look on her face, and asked her a question curiously.
[You’re literate? The maids said so].
At her words, Thelma’s face immediately paled. It was one thing for the servants to know, and quite another for the master to know. The former would end in a beating, but the latter could cost her her life.
Thelma shuddered in utter terror. And then the unexpected words came out of her mouth.
[You’re amazing. How did you teach yourself to read?]
She didn’t get angry or try to hit her, cursing how a slave could learn to read.
Instead, she smiled and said, [Is there anything else you want to learn? Then I’ll teach you.]
My savior. My light, my Elysia.
She picked Thelma up out of the mud as she was rolling on the ground and taught her everything from then on. Latisse, letters, and all the knowledge of the world.
Every moment with her was glorious and blissful, so it was no surprise when she accepted Riga’s hand in marriage and became Rigaina. She was the best person for the position.
But Thelma wished she hadn’t known, that she hadn’t done anything to help, that Elysia would still be alive today. All the favors she had done for her had turned to poison and killed her.
Back at the castle, Thelma sought out Rosetta. She and Benny were surrounded by piles of clothes. The order for clothes and other supplies for the banquet the next day had arrived just in time.
“Clothes are called ‘heine’.”
“Haine.”
“No, it’s not haine. It’s heine.”
“Heine.”
And now they were more preoccupied with the language than the clothes.
Looking closer, there was a mess of papers with letters all around them. A few days ago, Benny had started teaching Rosetta Ardennese, and now she was teaching her words for clothes.
“Traje heine. ‘To put on clothes.’”
“Traje heine.”
“Yes, excellent!”
“Then what’s this?”
What Rosetta pointed to was a round decoration. It looked similar to a bell, but it made no sound even when shaken. It was an object used in a magical sense to ward off bad energy.
“That’s called a picker in Ardennes. In Latisse, it’s called…… the closest is the word bell.”
The answer came not from Benny, but from Thelma. Benny beamed when she saw Thelma enter the room.
“Thelma!”