The Crow That’s After Me
Chapter 03 –
Mary, who was attending to Elena, suddenly shouted,
“My Lady, you must be especially careful of the crows!”
“Crows? Why?” Elena tilted her head, puzzled. The other maids smiled slyly.
“Those nasty creatures have an eye for shiny things—they love stealing them.”
“That’s right! You’d be lucky if they don’t snatch your jewels and take them to their nests.”
Elena looked down at the jewelry she was wearing and nodded in understanding.
“So there are crows even inside the castle?”
“Of course, My Lady.”
Their smiles seemed a bit mischievous, but Elena didn’t mind. She was still new to the northern lands and thought it best to just observe and learn the local mood first.
That night, Elena arrived at the grand hall where the wedding ceremony would take place. Only then did she finally understand the maids’ teasing. The people gathered there, all dressed in black fur cloaks, looked like a flock of crows huddled together.
When the doorkeeper saw her, he announced loudly,
“Lady of Selenga, entering!”
This would be the last time anyone called her by that title. The hall, which had been noisy with laughter and chatter, instantly fell silent. Duke Varcian rose from his seat to greet her.
Elena was wearing a velvet dress as red as blood. In the North, it was tradition for brides to wear red on their wedding day. Compared to the white gown she wore during the day, this one covered her body better and kept her warm—but it was so heavy and stiff that she felt trapped inside it.
As she approached, Duke Varcian extended his hand. Elena placed her hand in his, and they stood side by side. The steward stepped forward carrying a tray with a crown made of mistletoe and a pair of golden rings.
“His Majesty, the Emperor—the sun of our continent—has sent these gifts to honor the hard work of the North.”
At his words, the retainers cheered, tapping their tables with their cups. The loud, thunderous noise startled Elena, and she flinched. Duke Varcian turned to look at her.
“Of all the gifts,” he said, “the most precious must be the jewel of the continent—Lady of Selenga herself.”
Though his words sounded like praise, Elena felt he was mocking her. She could swear on her name that his smile was filled with scorn.
“I, Theodore, gladly follow His Majesty’s command and take the Lady of Selenga as my wife. To prosperity for Varcian, and loyalty to the Empire!”
“To prosperity for Varcian, and loyalty to the Empire!” the men echoed.
Duke Varcian let go of Elena’s hand and lifted the mistletoe crown. Slowly, he placed it upon her head. Then he took one of the golden rings and slid it onto her left hand. It was too loose. Elena took the other ring and put it on his finger.
The noise of cups hitting the tables grew so loud that it almost hurt her ears. When the Duke finally gestured for her to sit beside him, the room went quiet again. Only then could Elena take a hidden breath. But the night’s biggest ordeal was still ahead.
Later, when only the two of them remained in the bridal chamber, Elena looked up at the Duke wearing her mistletoe crown. Her face was pale, like a prisoner awaiting punishment. Maybe marriage was something like that after all.
“There’s no need to be so nervous,” said Duke Varcian.
But even after hearing his calm voice, Elena’s body remained tense. The Duke poured himself some wine from a bottle that had been prepared beforehand. Elena quietly watched him drink.
“Do you know,” he asked suddenly, “that three years ago, Varcian suffered a terrible famine?”
The topic was so unexpected for a wedding night that Elena blinked in confusion.
“I didn’t know,” she said.
“I thought so,” he replied with a crooked smile. “We begged His Majesty for aid, but he ignored us. The great Sun of the Continent forgot the North. And then suddenly, he sends you here for marriage.”
Elena covered her mouth in shock. Though she had lived in the palace as an attendant to the princess, she had never heard of this.
“If His Majesty hadn’t sent you,” he continued coldly, “I might have marched my army south to remind him we exist.”
Elena froze. The Duke spoke blasphemous words as though they were nothing. Then his eyes gleamed with something cruel.
“I’ve heard southern men and women behave shamelessly, regardless of marriage. Is that true?”
Elena blinked in disbelief. Such an indecent question! What was he trying to get at?
“I don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting, Your Grace,” she said stiffly.
“Perhaps my question was too difficult,” he said mockingly, stepping closer until he was right in front of her.
“Tell me, did the Emperor send you to me so hastily because you’re carrying his child?”
“What nonsense—!”
“Or maybe the Crown Prince’s?”
“You’re imagining things!” Elena snapped.
“I know too well how rotten southern nobles are,” he said, unbothered.
Then, in a commanding tone, he said, “Take off your clothes.”
“…What?”
“I don’t intend to raise another man’s child or be caught up in your power games. I’ll see the truth for myself.”
His suspicion, however insulting, wasn’t entirely baseless. The capital had long looked down on the North, and now they had sent him a bride like one would send away a problem. To him, it was only natural to wonder if she carried royal blood in her womb. But for Elena, the accusation was unbearable.
“If you truly believe your words are false, what’s there to hide?” he taunted.
Elena glared at him, then slowly began to undress. When she finally removed her undergarments, shame burned her face, but she didn’t cry.
The Duke’s gaze swept over her from head to toe—slow, heavy, and invasive. Elena trembled under his eyes. It’s only because of the cold, she told herself stubbornly.
But when his hand reached out and brushed her shoulder, she couldn’t help but gasp.
“Ah…!”
He smirked again, his hand gliding down from her shoulder, past her chest, and across her flat stomach. His touch felt burning hot.
“Are you satisfied now?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“You can’t tell early on,” he murmured, pressing her lower belly harder.
That was it. He was treating her like livestock. Elena couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed him away, grabbed her fallen gown, and wrapped it around herself like a cloak.
“If you want certainty, then call a physician!” she shouted.
“What? You’d show another man your body before your husband’s?” he mocked, lifting his glass again. “My wife truly knows no shame. You may be a southerner, but now you are Duchess of Varcian. I suggest you stop behaving like a cheap girl.”
His sharp tongue stung more than any slap.
“The wedding night will be postponed for a month,” he said flatly. “If your belly hasn’t grown by then, we’ll continue.”
It meant he would wait until her monthly cycle confirmed she wasn’t pregnant. Then he left the room, leaving her alone.
Elena sat on the edge of the bed, shaking. Everything was clear now. He only married her to humiliate her—to use her as revenge against the imperial family. She had escaped the lion’s den only to walk straight into a crow’s nest.
When Mary came in, startled by how quickly the night had ended, Elena didn’t respond. She waved her away and was finally left in silence.
Elena pulled the mistletoe crown from her head and threw it to the floor. Then she removed her golden hairpin, held it tightly against her chest, and lay down. Her first night in the North was cold and lonely.
In the North, once a woman shared her first night with her husband, she tied her hair up to signify adulthood. But even after nearly a month, Elena’s hair remained unbound, as it had been when she was unmarried.
Everyone in the castle noticed. They whispered about how the beautiful Duchess of Varcian had been rejected by her husband—and why.
Ashamed, Elena rarely left her room. All she could do was wait for the month to pass and for her monthly bleeding to prove her innocence.
“The food doesn’t seem to suit your taste,” Duke Varcian said one evening. He had suddenly appeared in her room, saying he would dine with her.
Elena was quietly stirring the stew made of fermented cod and potatoes. He must have heard from Mary that her monthly cycle had come.
“I’m just not feeling well,” Elena replied calmly.
“Morning sickness, perhaps?” he said with a smirk.
Her hand tightened around the spoon. Of course it wasn’t! She simply preferred meat over fish.
Without answering, Elena deliberately scooped a large piece of cod and put it in her mouth. The taste was awful, but she forced herself to chew without flinching.
When her plate was nearly empty, the Duke handed her another dish—some kind of smoked meat. Elena had hoped it would taste like ham, but it was bitter and dry.
He sat there, watching her, waiting until she finished every bite. Elena swallowed hard, each mouthful heavier than the last.
