Under the Oak Tree

?Chapter 6: Chapter

With the fall of the Roemian Empire – conqueror of the western kingdoms whose rule once reached the Southern Continent – came the age of lords.

The empire was split into the Seven Kingdoms: Wedon, Balto, Dristan, Osiriya, Sykan, Arex, and Livadon. Kings sought the loyalty of their vassals to protect their territories, and vassal lords strove to bolster their armies with ever greater numbers of knights and sorcerers.

Duke Ezion Croyso, Maxi’s father, was no exception. The first Duke of Croyso had been one of the lords of Wedon who had successfully seized the rich lands that had once belonged to Roem’s imperial family. Over the generations, the Dukes of Croyso joined dozens of wars to secure fertile lands and tens of thousands of serfs.

But thirty years prior, the Seven Kingdoms had signed a ceasefire to fight off the increasing numbers of monsters that had started to flood the lands. As part of the agreement, Duke Croyso had been pressured to return the territories he had annexed back to Dristan. Unwilling to let half the dukedom slip through his fingers, Duke Croyso soon devised a fitting solution. He would strengthen the legitimacy of his rule by marrying a princess of the old Roemian Empire.

He succeeded in finding and marrying a maiden of Roem’s fallen royalty. The maiden’s name was Arian Roem Girtha and, at the time, the duke found her a satisfactory match.

Arian was a beautiful and virtuous woman, dutiful and docile. But above all, she was a direct descendant of the great House of Roem, which had once ruled all the land under the sun. With Arian as his wife, the duke managed to extricate himself from territorial disputes, much to his great satisfaction.

But before long, he encountered that age-old problem of noblemen – the matter of heirs. Like all other lords, the duke longed for an heir who would inherit his titles, vast lands, and Croyso Castle. Yet even after six years of marriage, Arian could not to bear him a child, with every pregnancy ending in miscarriage. The duke grew exceedingly impatient.

He devoted all his efforts to securing a healthy heir, from enlisting the help of high-ranking clerics to seeking out sorcerers, but the decade-long struggle yielded nothing but frustration.

Then at long last, as if God had answered his prayers, a healthy child was born.

Unfortunately, the child turned out to be a girl.

His hopes dashed, the duke became despondent beyond words. And by the time the girl was two or three years old, a violent rage had taken root in him, for the girl was not only utterly useless – she also had a stutter.

He abandoned what little expectation he had had for his daughter. He had hoped to marry her off to a prince of Wedon to secure an heir from their union, but he would never allow a child with an impediment to be his heir. It was his firm belief that only an immaculate, healthy male child could honor the Croyso name and legacy.

Arian died without giving birth to a male heir. Repeated cycles of pregnancy and miscarriage had drained the life out of her. And the duke, who needed an heir carrying the royal blood of the Roemian imperial family, wasted no time in marrying one of Arian’s cousins.

To his dismay, his second wife died of illness, leaving only a daughter behind. As rumors spread that the House of Croyso was cursed, none among the Roemian imperial bloodline would agree to marry their daughters to the duke. He had no choice but to pin all his hopes on his second daughter, Rosetta.

Unlike her older sister, Rosetta was beautiful, intelligent, and outstandingly talented. If he could secure an heir by marrying her off to the son of a prestigious family, he would be able to preserve the pedigree of his house and maintain his rule over his vast territory.

To that end, he spared no pains nor expense. The most distinguished tutors, hundreds of servants, dazzling clothes, sparkling jewels... Anything Rosetta wished for became hers. The duke did everything in his power to make her the most desirable bride in Wedon.

As for his useless daughter Maximilian, he wasted no time on her. She was the least of his priorities. As a matter of fact, she would have been better off had her father forgotten that she existed at all. But from some point in time, the duke began to see his eldest daughter as a thorn in his side, for most nobles were averse to a match with a family that had produced flawed offspring. Some went so far as to avoid such families altogether, believing that their blood carried ill luck. They would likely reject Rosetta as a daughter-in-law to prevent the birth of a child with defects.

Such thoughts intensified the duke’s resentment. He wished a plague or illness would take his firstborn, who had given him his first taste of failure in life. As if it had not been enough to bring shame upon him, his useless excuse of a daughter had also ruined the future of the family. The taller Maxi grew, the more intense his anger became. And it was Maxi who bore the brunt of his unmitigated rage.

In the name of teaching her manners, he lashed her day after day until her flesh blistered. Whips tore open the skin on her back whenever she made the fatal mistake of being noticed by outsiders. The duke never forgave even the smallest of errors.

The duke felt that her flaws were a threat to his house. He felt justified in beating her to perfection. Everything was Maximilian’s fault for emerging from her mother’s womb as an imbecile. He was only treating her as she deserved.

No amount of scolding could correct her imperfections, and for this, she was blamed. She was a mistake, a good-for-nothing miscreant who should never have been born. Such words were driven into her ears like nails while she was growing up.

The Croyso stumbling block!

A disgrace to our house!

Foolish, unsightly girl!

No better than a rodent!

Not once did she hear her father call her by her name. Under his unforgiving blows and contemptuous gaze, she shriveled like a dried leaf, resigning herself to living out the rest of her days as the unwanted, shameful, despicable Maximilian.

***

“Maxi! Are you all right?!”

Feeling a firm hand shaking her shoulders, Maxi awoke suddenly. A pair of black eyes were looking intently into hers. Still in a daze, she blinked, not comprehending what had happened. Riftan gently brushed back the strands of hair that were stuck to her forehead, and the intimacy of the gesture brought her back to her senses. She sprang up and looked around. ƒ𝐫𝒆𝐞w𝗲𝚋𝗻૦𝘷e𝙡.c𝑜𝙢

“W-Where am I...?”

“An inn in a village near Zeno. Do you not remember? An ogre attacked the carriage. We got out of the woods while you were still unconscious.”

Riftan placed a large pillow behind her back. Burying her back in the pillow, she looked at him in confusion. He poured water into a bowl on the table, then handed it to her.

“Drink. You’ve been sweating. You need water.”

Maxi stared blankly at the rippling water without taking the bowl. Frowning, Riftan pressed her further.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking. Drink.”

She lifted the bowl and brought it to her lips. As the lukewarm water filled her stomach, she felt her insides turning again slightly. She lowered the bowl, grimacing.

Riftan raised an eyebrow.

“Do you still feel unwell?”

“N-No...”

“Tell me if you’re still in pain. I’ll call for the cleric.”

“N-No, I f-feel better.”

After observing her with narrowed eyes, Riftan took back the bowl and walked to the table to set it down. Only then was Maxi able to study the room.

It was a shabby room. The floors and walls were made of wood. The only pieces of furniture were a bed, a table, and a few chairs. She examined the ceiling for spiders and noticed a silken web gleaming in a part of the room where the light reached.

The one saving grace of the room was its clean bed. She was sniffing the blanket for mold when she suddenly frowned. Something was amiss. Hoping that she was wrong, she slipped a hand under the blanket. She felt bare skin.

She jumped, realizing that she was wearing nothing but a men’s tunic. Her undergarments were nowhere to be found.

“M-my c-clothes! W-where...?”

Riftan glanced up from rearranging the towel and water bowl. He answered her as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“I undressed you because your clothes got soiled with vomit. That’s my tunic you’re wearing. You didn’t bring a single piece of clothing with you, so we had to make do with mine.”

Maxi opened and closed her mouth like a carp. Should she be astonished that he was blaming her for not bringing spare clothes when he had given her no time to pack? Or should she be more shocked by the fact that he had undressed her while she was unconscious?

“You’ve been unconscious all day. I’ll order something for you to eat.”

“Oh... W-Wait...”

With that, Riftan left the room without a sign of guilt on his face. Maxi quickly scanned the room for something to wear, but all she could find was Riftan’s armor piled in a jumble on the floor next to the bed. There was nothing in the room resembling a suitcase. She had no choice but to pull the blanket up to her nose.

Shortly after, Riftan returned. Seeing only Maxi’s head peeking out of the blanket like a turtle in its shell, he gave a slight frown.

“There’s no use hiding now. I already saw everything when I was cleaning you up.”

...

“C-c-cleaning me up?”