.:. 3 .:.
Dimly lit and cramped, the tavern was the underworld of the village. From the cobwebbed beams hung an iron-wrought chandelier, the waning candles dripping wax and flickering with the draft. Barrels of ale and mead were stacked beside the unlit hearth while the long, wooden tables were inhabited by men from all walks of life: farmers, blacksmiths, and huddled in the gloom, a high-ranking lord and a handful of his trusted associates.
Except for the owner herself and her employed prostitutes, the establishment was devoid of women. The ladies of the night, who had long ago adjusted to the crudeness of language and behaviour, roamed freely with their pinched corsets and rouged lips, wriggling onto the laps of men who would pay a pretty penny for a night of fun.
Cordelia, as beautiful as she was cunning, maintained a perfect balance of femininity and superiority as she delivered a tray of pewter-mugs and pitchers to a table of dirt-dusted peasants. A woman she may be, but men knew of her entanglement with Lord Karl Sakamaki, and they also knew of her short temper. They daren't cross the woman who supplied them with beer and a bed-warmer.
"Woman!" beckoned the only man who Cordelia wouldn't reprimand for the demeaning call. She turned, her waist-length lilac tresses whipping around her frame.
"My Lord?" said she with a coy smile. Meeting his gaze, she arched her back to present her chest. "Are you in need of further refreshments?"
Karl Sakamaki's golden eyes glinted as he raked her curvaceous figure. If she painted her face, and her hair was unkempt, she could easily pass as a prostitute. The short hem of her skirt and the low-cut of her puffed, white blouse, left little to the imagination. She shifted, then, swishing fabric to flash the paleness of an ankle.
He reclined with a crooked slant to his lips. "That much is obvious, my dear. Or does my teasing woman enjoy to see us men parched?"
"You speak such folly, dearest! And what money would I make if all of you men were parched?"
"Why," began a fellow from her lover's table—with a pheasant-feather cap and a long beard—grabbing one of the roaming ladies and planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She giggled, and with a half-hearted swat, sashayed away. "With the well-spent gold from a night with the likes of her!"
The men laughed and Cordelia, with a shake of her head, searched the tavern for her eldest son. Ayato was soon spotted, his fiery hair vibrant even under the cloaked candlelight. He was at a gamblers table, and by his hunched, despondent form, he had lost his stakes.
"C'mon, hand it over," said his opponent with a heavy, lilted accent, inclining his head to the pouch of gold he was attempting to conceal. "Won it fair and square I did."
Ayato cursed under his breath. "Round two!" he demanded, slamming a fist and rattling the abundance of empty cups. "It wasn't in Yours Truly's favour! The table's uneven! Look—the dice caught the groove!"
He made a lunge for the bone-chiselled die, but the man was quicker. He encircled it in his palm and rose, gesturing for his prize once more. But Ayato, in his obstinate ways, still refused to face the reality of his loss.
"Like hell I'll give you this!"
Ayato stood and looped the pouch through a belt-hole. It jangled at the slightest movement.
The man gritted his teeth and withdrew an object from his side. Silver and sharp, the dagger glimmered as he held it high and turned it under a hot, dying wick. "Best not to test me, boy. I'll slash that throat of yours so quick you won't have time to beg for mercy!"
Ayato clenched his fists and inched closer, levelling the man in height and in stare. "Try it!"
He raised a daggered hand, but with a gasp, Cordelia rushed over to put a halt to their dispute. "Put that thing away!" she hissed. "Here, you greedy soul," she snatched the gold from her son and tossed it to the man. "Now get out!"
He smirked with victory. "Still getting your old mother to fight your battles, Yours Truly?" He spoke Ayato's self-proclaimed title with drawled mockery. "Nice doin' business with you!"
He waved with the back of his hand and finally exited the tavern. Ayato growled with frustration, stepping forwards to follow him outside and to challenge him to a fight, no doubt, but Cordelia grabbed him by the ear and pulled him down to her petite height.
"You stupid little fool!" she spat, dragging him from view behind the stack of barrels.
"Are you aware of the value of money? Does the upkeep of this place—this place which keeps you fed and watered and sheltered mean nothing to you? Don't you wish to be like them?" She craned to the table where her lover and his heir situated, all ruffled collars and fine jewellery. "Don't you wish to see your poor mother a rich wife rather than a lowly spinster?"
She softened then, and sighed, a hand caressing his cheek. He flinched, knowing her gentleness was as fleeting as a summer breeze. "Worthless creature. Where has my best boy gone?"
It was unfair how he was shackled with fruitless responsibility. He could never become the best in his mother's eyes, because he knew, and she knew, that deep down, he could never become the Sakamaki heir. If something were to befall upon Shu, then Subaru would next be crowned. Ayato was an illegitimate, impossible hope.
He risked a sideward glance towards his brother, Laito, who was stumbling up the stairs to his quarters with several of the tavern's prostitutes in tow. The fickle romancer that he was, he had countless bastards running around the streets with his red-hair and green-eyes. With his reputation, many assumed that he had also fathered the Komori bastard, and when questioned, he would laugh and wink, unhelping to disperse of the rumours surrounding him.
"Sorry," Ayato mumbled, hoping to mask his insincerity. "I'll do better next time."
"You will, because otherwise, you'll be sleeping outside with the dogs." Cordelia gathered a tray of beer into her hands and thrust it into his. "Take these to your father, and be impressionable and polite, or I'll have your head."
Ayato's knuckles were white around the metal tray; it took everything within him to hold his tongue.
He arrived at their table under a window, chilly and shadowed by the night-time gloom. It was in the back of the tavern, in a secluded nook, easily overlooked and undisturbed.
With his nervous stare, Reverend Komori felt out of place wearing his conservative church robes, the stench of liquor twisting his sensitive stomach.
Shu, the only member with the decency to spare Ayato a nod of acknowledgement, sat with a bored, lidded gaze, hands curled around his neck. He was sleep deprived; black creased under his eyes, each breath a deep and weary sigh.
As the days passed since his return, Reiji Kasei grew to match his scholarly appearance from years before. He was smartly dressed—nothing to compare to the latest fashions and the priceless gems donned by his superiors—with a pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. He was stoic with an erect posture, and it was clear, by the slight crinkle of his nose, that he scorned his surroundings.
Karl Sakamaki, who glowed with wealth under the reflection of moonbeams, busied himself in a discussion with an elderly village official. He could have held their meeting in one of the many lavishly adorned rooms of his castle. Yet, on a social scale, his woman's tavern fared better. With endless supplies of ale and the company of amoral women, more men were inclined to join him in his pursuit for justice.
Cursing his forced employment, Ayato carelessly dropped the drinks onto the table. Amber liquid overflowed the mugs, sloshing onto the wooden surface and soaking his father's expensive robes. Shu met his gaze with a languid smile and slipped him a handful of coins under the shroud of his cloak. It was much more than the price of the ale, but for a little entertainment derived from their father's misfortune, it was worth the parting.
"Hey," Shu whispered. "Try not to get stabbed next time..."
Ayato snorted. "As if! Yours Truly had him, alright."
Shu faced forward, watching as Cordelia shrieked and bustled over with a saccharine voice and fussing hands.
"Uh," Ayato cleared his throat. He was uncomfortable, and often, he reminded the heir of Subaru, with their quick temper and unrelenting arrogance. "Thanks," he murmured almost inaudibly, before stalking away to avoid the wrath of his mother.
Karl, now in a sour mood, swatted Cordelia away. She would be fetched when her company was wanted.
"My Lord?" an official piped. "You called an urgent meeting?"
Hands, glimmering with rings of ruby and gold, swiped a pewter and took a swig, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a handkerchief. Emitting an aura of power, he reclined against the chair and gestured to his subordinates.
"Indeed! I am certain that we are all aware of the recent case with the Komori girl, charged with the crime of adultery?"
Nodding heads and whispers confirmed his statement.
"The nerve of the woman!"
"A complete lack of respect! The girl has no morals!"
"Her accomplice should be punished! He shares the blame!"
"Quiet!" Karl Sakamaki bellowed, his mug smashing and indenting the surface, like a judge's small wooden mallet. The gossiping men were silenced at once. "Men, you must keep a level head! It is imperative to discuss further action, but firstly, I would like to welcome back the good doctor, Reiji Kasei. Impeccable yet disastrous timing, I must say. Good sir, with your sudden return, your lodgings must be unsuitable. Where are you residing?"
"Upstairs, in this very tavern," Reiji replied as his eyes skirted upwards. His lips were thin and strained, as though fighting a frown. "They are satisfactory and I have no major qualms, but if your lordship has any recommendations until I am able to gain a permanent residence, I would be obliged to hear it."
"Why, you must stay at the castle! With what you must have been through... well, I should like to hear it once the wounds are not as fresh. I shall arrange a room for you at once."
"Your kindness is appreciated," his head bowed to conceal a smile. "I accept. Thank you."
"No matter, no matter," he waved hands in dismissal. "Now, I am aware of the sensitivity of the subject, but what are your plans? Do you intend to mend the relationship between yourself and Mistress Komori? Or..."
"Divorce is an option I would like to discuss," he left no room for debate, his thumb circling the metal rim of the cup. "Surely you can see my predicament."
"Divorce," mumbled the reverend with equal fright and disapproval. "God will not look kindly upon you, sir," he spoke to no one in particular, but with the rowdy noise of the tavern, none heard his words.
"Married to an adulteress?" A man with small, wrinkled eyes and a face shadowed by a cocked beaver-hat, joined the conversation. "Why, nobody can blame you! The shame must weigh heavy upon you!"
"Indeed," Reiji sighed. "I cannot be joined to a woman who is anything less than perfect."
Shu Sakamaki, who for the past two hours focused only upon not drifting into sleep, spoke up. Many men snapped their heads to the sound, stunned by the willing speech of their young master. He was always quiet when attending meetings with his father. He only spoke when spoken to, or in rare matters such as these. It wasn't out of intimidation or lack of opinion; no, it was sheer indifference.
"Perfect... what a joke," he laughed, but it held no humour. A hand was held to meet his gaze, the rose quartz ring circling his little finger reflecting the candlelight with a gleam. "If you expect such high standards... you will only live for disappointment."
"Conversely," Reiji challenged, "if you only aim for low standards, you will never behold greatness."
"Did you think her perfect," he finally lifted his eyes to meet red. "In her white dress?"
"Of course. But alas! I was blinded by beauty to see the taint waiting to flourish within. You did not attend our wedding, I remember."
"No," Shu snatched his drink. "I had a prior engagement."
"Yes, that is always the case," his voice rung with mock understanding. "The two of you used to be well acquainted with one another, hm?"
"That is common knowledge. She was my childhood friend…" A small crease settled between his brows, ignoring the snobbish scoff by his father at his lowly choice of companion. "My brother still holds the girl in the highest esteem."
"My daughter was once loved by everyone who beheld her," said the minister with an exhale and a wistful smile. "Like her mother, she is kind and loyal beyond sense."
Shu regarded the man, his stony expression softening at the edges. He liked the minister, despite his weak disposition, for he had always treated him and his brother well. He remembered the occasions when they had escaped their nannies in town and were desperately seeking refuge. Yui, who watched them through a gap in the door, would call upon her father to assist her friends. Reverend Komori, with a laugh and a head shake, would pull them into the church with a solitary finger pressed against his lips.
"Oh, my daughter," said the minister with a groan as he rose from his knees, hands dusted with soot from the newly lighted hearth. "One day you are going to get me in trouble for your loyalties!"
His reprimand was light, for soon after he poured three cups of milk and Subaru split his honey-bread, stolen from the castle kitchens.
"Don't worry, papa," Yui had reassured, giving Subaru a cheeky, but thankful grin for the food. Shu stared at her, slowly chewing his bread as he watched the flames dance across her face. "I'll take full responsibility for them."
"What is the reason for your distance?"
Shu was snapped out of his reverie with the doctor's question.
"You are an unrelenting man… do you intend to hold an interrogation?" Shu stood abruptly, knocking the table as he did so, the ale from his pewter sloshing and dribbling onto the floor.
At dawn, when the tavern emptied and the barrel-taps shut off, rats would come and wet their noses in the puddle, hunting for scraps of meat and breadcrumbs. Kanato would come down the stairs with a broom and a wicked smile, breaking their tiny bones and swatting them through the door. There was no need for a cat.
"I cannot bare this… father, I'm leaving," he turned and gestured to a young boy with muck smeared across his cheeks. "You, fetch my horse."
The small boy nodded and scrambled outside. "Yes'r!"
Shu attempted to follow suit when Reiji's stool screeched, his voice halting him in his tracks.
"Only the guilty will refuse an answer."
He slowly swivelled to face the estranged doctor with the narrowing of eyes, holding his stare in a stubborn, silent battle.
"Good sir!" one of his father's associates exclaimed. "Surely you cannot be accusing the young master of—"
Shu lifted a hand to silence him. "We grew up and grew apart. Does it satisfy you?"
Reiji's eyes glinted, lips curved with the intention to provoke. "Unless you have a reason why it would not?"
He released a sigh and closed his eyes, palm pressed against his forehead to ease the awakening of a throbbing ache. "I am not playing this tiresome game… it does little to interest me. So only naturally… I shall find something that does."
"Or somebody, perhaps?"
"Correct," he matched the taunt of his smile with a weak one of his own. "My brother, despite his delinquency, does provide me with some entertainment."
Karl Sakamaki rose, furious, unaccustomed to disrespect. "Shu! I forbid you to leave this table!"
Shu, in no mood to entertain suspicion or his father's moral code, rummaged in his waistcoat pocket and slammed down a handful of gold. "Buy your woman a new corset," he said as his gaze flitted to the man's mistress. "It seems, by her escaping dignity, that she has long outgrown it."
Cordelia heard his remark and her lips puckered, hands bent to the unnatural curve of her waist. "Oh, you insolent creature!"
Ignoring the call of his name, Shu wove through the crowds and stopped to engage in a brief conversation with the musicians.
"Stop," he cringed. "I do not believe men venture here to listen to nails on a chalkboard..." he grabbed their violin. "Here... see?" he pointed to the tuning pegs and the fingerboard. "You haven't tuned it... and a string is missing."
He shook his head and with his best efforts, began tweaking the strings before returning the instrument. "Get it repaired," insisted Shu, and with bubbling protest on the man's lips, he added—"On me," and a shower of coins fell into the musician's palm.
Shu, with a lightened pouch, had begun to feel like a charitable benefactor. He frowned; that hadn't been his intention.
"Coming here is bothersome, but it is truly insufferable when my ears begin to bleed." He turned towards the door, but with a look over his shoulder, he forced a half-smile. "You have talent... just try not to soil the only good thing in this world."
Finally, he left the tavern with the swing of the door, the golden, melodic notes echoing his virtuosity.
"They are spoilt," the Lord's knuckles stretched white around the handle of the mug. "They do not appreciate what I have given them on a silver platter."
Cordelia sashayed over, swinging her legs over his lap. Her skirt ruched, revealing a peep of pale skin. Many of the men gawked, but with a glare from golden eyes, their mouths snapped shut.
"Darling," the back of her hand caressed his face. "My sons are good boys. They would have made you fine heirs."
"That may be the case, my dear, if we had been married." He kissed her neck to silence her foolish tongue, fingers running along her bare collarbone. "Now, go and wait for me upstairs. There is a matter which needs to be discussed. It has no business to be intervened upon by a woman."
The barmaid—like many women of the day—was frustrated by the inferior view of her sex. But her lover had power, money and status, and a woman who conspired with such a man was sure to benefit. She had given him more sons than either of his wives, still, due to her lowly rank, he refused to marry her. She was not of a noble bloodline like Beatrix and Christa. The only thing she owned was the tavern.
In his eyes, she was a beautiful peasant who entertained him after nightfall. Conversely, Cordelia loved him. It was not love at first sight. In the beginning, she used him only for her own personal gain. But after the birth of the triplets, her heart wandered to him, and it wandered still, for he would not ground it.
With one last lingering kiss, Cordelia winked and disappeared upstairs.
"Now," Karl began, straightening his robes. "Forgetting the behaviour of my son, shall we discuss further action?"
But before any could speak, the small figure of Kanato snuck up to the table. His sudden appearance frightened many, as quiet as a slinking cat in the dead of night. The boy tilted his head, eyes locked onto his father, blazing with the ache to be recognised.
"Boy! You will do well to announce your presence!"
"Hello father." He disregarded the Lord's scolding, smile as honeyed and as practiced as his mother's. "I may have an answer for your predicament concerning the village whore."
A spark was ignited in gold, his forefinger gesturing for him to come forward, and by extension, to take the stool previously inhabited by Shu. Kanato, radiant at being invited to the table, took a pewter and sipped the ale, regret immediately twisting his features. It was bitter and disliked by his sugary tongue.
"Enlighten us! Speak of your proposal!"
"The woman is to wear a mark of her shame," he spoke each word with continual giddiness. "The letter 'A', for adulteress! A constant reminder for all to see!"
.:.
A pounding of hooves crunched leaves and snapped branches on the forest floor. It was dangerous to ride at such a late hour; neither he nor his steed could foresee a ditch or a fallen trunk. They were galloping blind. Reflecting, it would have been sensible of him to borrow a lantern from the tavern to illuminate the path. But Shu Sakamaki knew this shortcut since childhood; every bend, every incline and every tree was ingrained into his memory.
The route followed the riverbank, and a little before the castle situated a cottage. It was quaint, with a thatched roof and an adjacent barn and a small pen to section poultry. From her care, flowers grew in wild, colourful arrangements, attracting bees and butterflies during the summer months. It was a fairies glen—secretive and alluring.
Officially, the dwelling was part of the castle. Yui Komori and her husband had rented it from them, but during his absence, she struggled with the payments. The girl was prideful, refusing help and insisting that she earned enough money from her needlework.
However his father eventually noticed the lack of transactions and demanded that as he was the eldest son, it was his duty to deliver the news of her repossession. Without her knowledge, he paid the gold to his father without missing a deadline. Money was nothing to him; it was as common as the mud caked underneath his boots.
Shu tugged back the reins, his horse rearing at the sudden decision to stop. The cottage peeped through the foliage and out shone a small glow of a flickering candle. He pushed on his steed to tread the path further, and he could see the Komori girl sat cross-legged on the grass, nestled into a shawl of dusky pink with the spine of a book balanced on the bump of her stomach. It was by the work of Shakespeare—one of the leather-bound editions he and Subaru had gifted her with in childhood.
"Must you kick me?" she spoke, seemingly to the air. "After all I have done for you, little one..." she laughed, but the sound was sad. "It is only a few more months until I am able to meet you, then things will be alright. People may hate us, and they may shame and outcast us, but I will love you more," her words were strangled with tears. "And I will tell you wondrous stories of your father before you go to sleep at night, and you will have the most beautiful dreams. I... I promise."
She was not the fearless, immoral vixen many believed her to be at the castle door. Amidst the wildflowers, the candlelight bathed her in an orange softness, quiet whimpers revealing the fragility of her heart. She was a woman who loved with all she had and lost. Curled up underneath the stars with a narrative of tragedy, she reassured her consolation prize of a better life.
There was an unexpected chill in the air, striking his pale cheeks and diminishing her light. With a shake of his head, he nudged his horse and cantered into the wilderness. As Shu neared the castle grounds, the vastness of the trees thinned, revealing a worn dirt-path from the many journeys of carriages. Meeting his ears was the whipping sound of a sword, heavy breathing and strings of expletives.
He was mildly curious as to why Subaru was slashing at a tree with murderous intent. His brother's horse—black and untameable—snorted and bucked, grinding a hoof into the ground. Their temperaments twinned.
Sliding from his ride, Shu circled the reins around a trunk. His ride—a squeamish mare—cowered away from the stallion. He soothed it with a nose-rub.
"Defenceless thing... could the tree have offended you? You never miss an opportunity to create havoc... if you were not that man's son, you would no doubt be caged behind bars."
With a sigh, Shu flopped down beside his horse, the crown of his head resting against the tree. Subaru did not acknowledge his presence by sheathing the sword; he swung it at the earth, scattering leaves like a shower of rain.
"Cricket," he mumbled, voice shaking with anger. "You should have seen her face! I'm going to slaughter that man!"
"Man?" Shu cracked open an eye, a finger itching down his restrictive collar. "What... man?"
"What man!" Subaru mocked as he resumed his violent thrashes, the bark splintering off in chunks. "Her bastard husband, that's who!"
"He is still unpleasant," his mouth twisted at the thought of the doctor. "He was at the tavern earlier... father, wearing his moral façade, has invited him to stay..." he paused, and with a bitter laugh, he added—"He is suspicious... but he is wasting his time with me."
Subaru's eyes flashed. He stabbed the weapon into the dirt and spun to face his brother. "You... do you not care? That imp is our oldest friend! He hit her! The things she is going through—!"
"She is your friend, Subaru... it has little to concern me with."
"You have not forgiven her," he realised with an echo of disbelief. Slowly, his temper returned and his hands bundled and his teeth grit. "Six years, and you have not forgiven her!"
Without a word, Shu rose and unbounded his horse. "You are just as vexing as that man," said he, mounting without sparing him a glance. "I'm going home... your noise has worsened my headache."
"Shu!" cried Subaru, slamming a fist against the trunk. "Answer me!"
He set his jaw and tightened his grip on the reins, guiding the horse in the direction of the castle. "She was wrong," he murmured. "And only now, through an act of foolishness, are the cracks beginning to appear..."
The youngest lowered his eyes to the sword hilt. "Remember the day she told us?" He pursed his lips, knuckles taut and pale around the handle. "She didn't have a choice! She had no income, or future! Despite my feelings towards the bastard, he elevated her!"
Shu angled his chin and scoffed. He squeezed the belly of his steed and raced through the night in a blur of white and gold.
.:.
Yui Komori believed herself to have conquered the battle of sickness during the first few months of pregnancy.
Subaru came by the previous day with leftover sweets from the castle kitchens. It was a lovely gesture which filled her heart with warmth. He denied his good will and insisted that it was a cooks idea, who had carried seven children already, and in her experience, she craved sugar. Instead, a whiff of marzipan and gingerbread flared nausea.
She didn't entertain his company for long; he was preoccupied with the condition of her face. Yui had witnessed injuries varying in severity and her heart would pang for those poor women shackled in an abusive marriage. Often she found herself ushering them back to her cottage while she applied ointments and herbs. Her medicinal experience had stemmed from years of watching the estranged doctor at work with his patients.
Yui's state was not severe; her lip was burst and a yellowed bruise blossomed across her cheekbone. It was noticeable, yet she felt little pain. The youngest Sakamaki demanded to know who the man was, but she refused name him. She didn't blame Reiji for striking her; he had returned after years of torment, to his wife, carrying a child with another man. She understood his anger.
But Subaru Sakamaki was not dim; he put the pieces together. Of whom would her predicament affect the most? The husband of the adulteress, of course. He left her cottage in an inexorable rage, and she did not know what he had done, or what he intended to do. His recklessness worried her.
Feeling restless and cramped in her small house, she had spent the day outside. She could have ventured into the village to gather fabric for her needle, but she hadn't the energy to face disdain. The sun was bright and high and there was no breeze to chill her bones. The fresh air eased her sickness and she busied herself gardening, planting roses and lilies, or reading the leather-bound books which the Sakamaki brothers had long ago gifted her.
Today it rained. It was cold from the poor insulation, and she often tripped from the number of pales cluttering the floor to collect the drips from the roof. She did not sleep well, either. Her mind was frenzied with the consequences of Subaru's delinquency and Reiji's promise of destruction.
Suddenly, there was a knock upon her door. It was a sound she didn't recognise. Subaru never knocked. He would kick the door open while her father's would be quiet and quick. Shu, on the rare occasion that he visited on official business, would be a drawl of rapping knuckles. Her lover, meanwhile, would clamber through an open window to avoid prying eyes.
Tightening the bow of her headscarf, she opened the door which revealed Karl Sakamaki's illegitimate son, Kanato.
"Hello," she began, mustering up a smile despite her weariness. "What can I do for—"
Before she could finish her greeting, he thrust a patch of fabric into her hands.
"You must wear it," his tone was imperative, face devoid of emotion. "Or when the vile creature is born, you will be hanged."
Yui startled and stumbled backwards. Nervously, she lowered her eyes to the object he had forcibly placed within her grasp. An embroided scarlet letter was pinned to a quilt of black and outlined in a thread of gold. It was beautiful craftsmanship. Adulteress, it stood for. It could hardly have been for Apple.
"I made it myself," his smile was the sugar in the basket of marzipan; her nausea returned. "Are you thankful?"
"The embroidery is beautiful," she said. "But thankful? No, I am as thankful as a prisoner captive in their cell."
Anger blazed within lilac and he spat at her feet. "Stupid woman! Ungrateful whore!"
He cursed her existence until his figure vanished within the shrubbery. Yui closed the door with more force than she had intended and fetched the handheld mirror situated upon her vanity. As she held the scarlet fabric to her bosom she realised, as a tear ran down her cheek, that neither her mind, body or soul would ever be able to escape the clasps of her shame.
Comparative to the letter, love was beautiful. Yet both in the end had ruined her.
A/N: Well, I did say this was inspired by "The Scarlet Letter"...
It frustrates me to no end writing KarlHeinz. He is the biggest hypocrite in existence. It's fine—or perhaps applauded!—for him to indulge in Cordelia despite him being married, and even to father three sons. Yet poor Yui, who in that era was cursed to be born a woman, is scorned and punished for doing the exact same. Logic, anyone? -.-
Cordelia is nasty in this story, yes, and a terrible mother, but I'm not trying to portray her as inherently evil. Yui and her are similar in many ways. I suppose the real villains remain to be Karl... and Reiji? O.o I have an explanation as to why Reiji leaves Yui, and what happened to him, which will be revealed in later chapters.
Thanks for reading! :)
allyelle~