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『A knight must have a squire to attend him, a junior knight to assist him, and a bondwoman to warm his bed through the night.』
Endymion, lord of Gwendel, hated seeing his bondwoman Marie cry.
He hated it so deeply that every time she showed tears, his face went as though he were the one dying.
And yet he was the most relentless when it came to tormenting her and eating away at her.
“You really are a born woman.”
“Ugh, hh……”
Marie burst into tears.
A bondwoman who was slave yet wife, servant yet a knight’s woman, had to show a tear-streaked face if she wanted to move a man she could never quite read.
Through her blurring vision she could see Endymion’s face, but she waited without wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
Waiting for him to crumble and reach for her. For him to cup her small face in his hands and let himself be consumed.
