I’ve Become a S*ave Bride - Chapter 64
With the warriors all withdrawn, only Kazen, the Markhal, and Lenette remained in the herb garden. The Markhal scowled at her grandson, who was standing there blankly beside Lenette.
“What are you still doing here?”
It seemed her order to “get lost” hadn’t been intended for the warriors alone.
“……”
A silence, different from the one yesterday, hovered around Kazen. He glanced back and forth between the Markhal and Lenette before subtly taking Lenette’s hand.
“…She is my person.”
“And what of it?”
“I mean that if we leave, we leave together.”
“Listen to him, would you?”
The Markhal snorted as if she couldn’t believe her ears and then looked at Lenette. Lenette gave the elderly woman an apologetic smile. It was a gesture meant to convey that while she wished to speak with her further, she did not want to disregard her husband. She wanted to bolster Kazen’s spirits, even in this small way.
Perhaps accepting her intent, the Markhal stared at the pair’s joined hands for a moment and clicked her tongue.
“Tsk.”
Taking that as the signal that they were permitted to exit together, Kazen bowed his head.
“Then, we shall—”
“Who said you could go?”
“……Pardon?”
The Markhal extended the hand hoe she had been holding toward Kazen.
“You, go over to that empty patch of land and start tilling.”
“……”
Kazen looked down at the hoe placed in his hand with a dazed expression.
“Why? Have you never done it before?”
“……No, that’s not it.”
“Good. A fellow who ran away from home before the blood on his head even dried ought to have that much experience.”
“……”
“Don’t just stand there like a statue; take that black beast of yours and go get to work.”
“……And Lenette?”
“What? You think I’m going to eat her?”
“……”
“She’s going to look over the herbs with me, so stop interfering and go turn that soil.”
In the end, Kazen was relegated to a corner of the garden. Seeing him getting scolded and ordered around for the first time, Lenette let out a suppressed giggle. Hearing that laugh, the Markhal glanced at Lenette and chuckled along with her.
—
“What?!”
Since early morning, the sound of glass shattering had been echoing from Jaran’s room.
“That lowly wench approached the Great the Markhal?!”
“Yes, my lady.”
“What kind of nonsense is that!”
Jaran—the wife of Damer, who had tried to humiliate Kazen yesterday only to fall into her own trap—was huffing with rage.
“There is no way the Markhal would ever entertain a mere slave girl!”
“But… everyone in the palace witnessed the Markhal spending the entire morning with that woman.”
“I’m saying, how does that even make sense?!”
What kind of woman was the Markhal? She was the most stubborn and difficult person in the entire Empire!
Was she just stubborn? No—it was as if the Markhal’s tongue was forged of iron rather than flesh; every word she spoke was as sharp as a blade.
Because of this, not only her daughters-in-law but even the grandchildren born from their wombs dreaded facing her. Yet, that insolent girl from yesterday had spent time with her?
Jaran let out a shriek and slammed her fist into a pillow.
“Why! Why?!”
Her personality wasn’t always this violent. But right now, it was impossible for her to be anything else.
“She ignores my gifts, so why her?!”
Damer and Jaran had been staying at this Underwater Temple using various excuses long before Kazen’s wedding was even announced. It was all to gain an advantage in the battle for succession. To seize that upper hand, they had to win over the Khal and the Markhal, who stood at the absolute pinnacle of the Empire.
To that end, they had scoured the world for everything from rare herbs to medical texts to present as gifts!
“And yet, while she refuses to even accept my morning greetings—let alone invite me for a cup of tea—how can she do this for a mere slave from another country?!”
Jaran’s mind simply could not grasp the situation.
“Did that wench send the Markhal a gift?”
“No, my lady.”
“Then what? How did she get the Markhal to permit an audience?!”
“Well… it wasn’t exactly a formal audience….”
“What? Then what was it?”
“It seems the woman went to the Markhal’s herb garden at dawn.”
“She went… to the herb garden?”
This was an unexpected turn of events. Jaran knit her brows and asked again. The Markhal’s herb garden was a place where even the Khal did not dare enter without permission.
“She really went into the herb garden?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And yet, the Markhal didn’t scream at her; instead, they actually spoke?”
“Yes, my lady….”
“Why?”
“I-I’m not quite sure….”
Looking at her maid, who was bowing her head like a criminal, only fueled Jaran’s frustration. Pressing her fingers to her temples, Jaran spoke with irritation.
“Go and find out exactly what happened.”
“Pardon?”
“Go to the warriors guarding the herb garden and find out the details!”
“H-how could I possibly….”
“Do I have to teach you every little thing?!”
“……I’m sorry.”
“Get out. And find out right now.”
“I understand….”
As her personal maid scurried out, Jaran, still unable to cool her rage, hurled whatever object her hand touched against the wall. She knew she shouldn’t behave as recklessly here as she did in her own palace. But what else could she do when this was the only way to vent the heat boiling inside her?
“I shouldn’t have let her off like that yesterday!”
Kazen’s nameless wife—that slave girl—had been a nuisance from the very first impression.
“Insolent wench. A girl with no roots, acting like that toward me…!”
Despite her harsh words, Jaran paced the room restlessly, her anxiety clear. Damer’s maternal family was powerful, and Jaran’s own family was strong enough to bring down a bird in flight. But what did any of that matter?
In deciding the successor to lead this empire, the opinions of local clans or central officials didn’t count for a thing. Only the will of the Markhal and the Khal mattered entirely.
Even if the officials rebelled against an absurd decision, it wouldn’t matter. The Khal possessed a standing army powerful enough to crush any such opposition.
“I hate everything about this!”
She hated the Khal for constantly testing Damer, the most likely successor; she hated the Markhal for standing by and watching him do it; and finally, she hated Kazen—who was born the eldest son despite having nothing—and that foreign slave girl clinging to his side.
“The very fact that someone with such vulgar blood entered the palace acting so high and mighty is the problem.”
In truth, Kazen was not a strong enough competitor to warrant such wariness. Kazen himself lacked ambition, and even if he were to harbor any, his mother’s background would act as a ball and chain. Thus, he was someone she could simply ignore and move past—yet, he was becoming excessively grating.
“I can’t let this go. I have to kick those two out of this palace.”
—
“Good morning, Lady Lenette.”
“A fine morning to you, Lady Lenette.”
As soon as Lenette stepped out of her room, a flurry of voices showered her. Every member of the Karta Palace staff was struggling to get a word in, trying their best to acknowledge her.
“Are you heading there again today?”
“You are truly diligent.”
“If you happen to need any help—”
Lenette returned their greetings with a face that was calm, yet far from cold.
“Good morning, everyone. Someone is waiting for me, so I’ll be on my way.”
With that, she exited the palace at a pace that was brisk but not undignified. As they cleared the gates, Hosanta, who was following behind, spoke with a mischievous smirk.
“If humans had tails, I imagine everyone back there would be wagging theirs quite vigorously.”
It was exactly as Hosanta said. The moment a connection was established between the Markhal and Lenette, the atmosphere within the palace had shifted in an instant.
Whether it was because of their perception of her as a “foreign slave,” the palace servants had previously treated her as if she were invisible. But once the Markhal and Lenette spent three consecutive mornings together, they began to cautiously offer their greetings. Some even attempted to approach her with an air of newfound intimacy.
I had no idea the Markhal’s influence was this immense.
Lenette was the type of person who could adapt easily anywhere. Even so, she hadn’t expected to settle into life at the Underwater Temple quite this rapidly. It was all thanks to the Markhal.
As it turned out, not only the Karans but also the Markhal’s own grandchildren—including Kazen—hardly dared to strike up a conversation with her.
“Do you know what this herb is?”
“You say you use this root-and-all without drying it?”
“What? You use this for something other than a sleeping draught?”
“Oho… so you can create a salve in that manner!”
Recalling the conversations of the past three days, Lenette shook her head.
She seems strict, but she isn’t so prickly that she’s unapproachable.
However, that was likely a privilege reserved for someone as well-versed in herbology as Lenette; everyone else in the palace was terrified of the woman.
Do the court physicians not communicate well with her?
The question crossed her mind, but she soon found her own answer.
Then again… what physician would feel comfortable around the Markhal?
They would probably just tremble, unable to even meet her eyes. That was how formidable the presence of “the Markhal” was. Serving in the role of the Queen, she was essentially one of the two horses pulling the twin-engine carriage that was the Tazetra Empire.
“You’ve arrived.”
As Lenette stepped into the herb garden, the Markhal, who had been crouching, stood up. But in that instant, the Markhal swayed, losing her balance. Startled, Lenette and the guards rushed toward her.
“Are you alright?”
The Markhal waved her hand as if telling them not to make a fuss and dismissed the others.
“It’s just because it’s morning. Honestly, such a commotion over nothing, tsk.”
Normally, one might have brushed it off as a common occurrence, but who was this? This was the Markhal, one of the two hearts of the Empire. If something were to happen to her, there was no telling what kind of repercussions would fall upon Lenette.
Lenette’s expression shifted, and she asked in a serious tone:
“Does this happen to you often?”
