Chapter 37

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: The Courtesan's Lesson
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“Um, well, the head maid told me to report it if you did anything strange… but I swear to God, I never said a word about you. I really didn't. Please, believe me.”

So it was terror. It was fear. She was so afraid of me that it broke her own spiteful stubbornness.

In the end, I couldn't hold it in and let out a peal of laughter. Seril's desperate excuses, born from the fear of receiving the same punishment as before, were tinged with a wretched sort of pity.

Her body was hunched forward as if she were about to drop to her knees, her hands clasped together, begging for forgiveness. An unspeakable desperation emanated from her. Seeing that, I was certain.

I had finally broken her—Seril, the girl who had mocked me and spat at me.

I had won. Yes, I had finally seized this wretched woman in my own two hands. Even the malicious Seril was powerless before the fear of death.

The dim light filtering into her confinement was enough to etch the word ‘fear’ deep into her heart. It would become an indelible scar, tormenting her forever.

“I understand. You had no choice. To be honest, I don't care what you report. It's not like I have anything to hide. But if it involves ‘Marie,’ that's another story.”

“Yes, yes. O-of course. You're a hundred, a thousand times right, Young Miss. I don't know anything.”

“But it seems a little unfair, don't you think?”

“Huh? Yes. That's right. It is unfair.”

“It's truly sad. I want to get along with everyone, but people just won't leave me alone. Seril, would you go and tell Mago something for me? Tell her that Cisse Vischwartz, that stupid girl, doesn't know her place and is upset with jealousy over Lady Roena. Tell her I'm thrashing about like a madwoman. She'll find it very interesting and praise you for it.”

“Young Miss?”

Seril's eyes darted about as she asked, bewildered. As if to say, *what are you talking about?*

“And then, you will report back to me what Mago says.”

I said, looking at Seril.

“It's quite simple, isn't it?”

***

After receiving an apology from Madame de La Vallière, my mother's nose was a little higher in the air. Although she'd had my stepfather's help, she seemed to have lost her senses for a moment, thinking she had defeated the woman who had humiliated her. Otherwise, there would be no reason to bring Pérignole back.

I felt a headache coming on as I watched my mother smile at me with a triumphant expression. I knew she felt defeated by La Vallière, but there was no need to provoke her like this.

Above all, I was only sixteen. I couldn't for the life of me understand why my mother was in such a rush.

In any case, it was true that my mother's actions had pushed La Vallière's displeasure to its limit. She didn't show her face at lunch and announced her absence from the lesson she was to have with me.

According to Marie, she had drawn all the curtains in her room and was drinking nothing but hot tea. It seemed to be her way of calming her boiling insides.

To call my mother in for another lecture would be to disregard my stepfather, the master of this mansion, so she must have decided it was better to lock herself in her room and shut her eyes to it all. This was the greatest extent of her patience.

As the maids were draping long curtains around the bed and laying down silk sheets, I approached my mother and asked quietly.

“Mother. I'm still young. What was the rush?”

“Cisse. You must be taught by the best. By someone authentic, like Pérignole.”

“That's not what I asked. Please, tell me the truth.”

My mother turned her head, avoiding my gaze. Seeing her tightly pressed lips and trembling eyelashes, I realized her actions were nothing more than a childish fit. For a moment, I felt a sigh about to escape me.

“You haven't forgotten, have you? Who is teaching me right now.”

“My dear. It's just that, I really… it was really…”

“I know. How could I not? In fact, I'm even a little happy. Because I want you to be a person who can stand tall before anyone. But, Mother…”

I took her hand and whispered quietly.

“Couldn't you think of me just a little more?”

The hand in mine was trembling greatly. She was likely imagining the trouble I would face because of her. I clicked my tongue softly and let go of her hand.

Honestly, my past self would have been overjoyed and deeply moved by my mother's actions. No, I might have even teared up, thinking she was the only one who cared for me.

But now that I have returned, I have no choice but to be cautious about everything. That's why, even knowing it's too much to ask for my mother to have the same insight as La Vallière, I sometimes end up revealing my true feelings like this. Though, originally, I was surely more foolish than my mother.

Perhaps I am the one who is impatient. I gently patted the back of my mother's hand. It was a signal we had created together when we lived on the streets, something we often did when it was difficult to say ‘I'm sorry’.

Pérignole requested the maids' help to draw all the curtains on the windows. Then she asked for a silver basin of water with flower petals floating on top, three or four cloths, and a bottle of fragrant oil.

As if she knew no shame, her dress was cut to reveal a hint of her chemise and a full cleavage. A thick trail of perfume bloomed in her wake whenever she moved. Only Roena and her maids hardened their expressions and turned their heads away at the sight.

Roena's appearance for such a lesson was, in fact, quite surprising. Not only because of her usual demeanor, but because I couldn't imagine how she had gotten permission from Madame de La Vallière.

Roena looked terrified, as if she were seeing something frightening and grotesque. The hand clutching her handkerchief was so pale that the blue veins stood out. Her pressed lips trembled with fear, and small beads of sweat formed on her smooth, white-satin forehead.

It seemed that even the angelic Roena couldn't help herself in front of a courtesan; her slightly furrowed brow held the blatant emotions of shock and contempt.

But somehow, she didn't run away. She didn't scream or faint. She just kept looking at me, fidgeting restlessly.

When Pérignole climbed onto the bed prepared for her, Roena and I sat in the chairs arranged in front of it.

Beyond the long, draped curtains, Pérignole's silhouette, visible in glimpses, had a sensuous air from the very beginning.

She crouched like a cat and gave a small yawn. Her breasts, pressed against the bed, bulged and drew the eye. Her crimson-painted lips against the white sheets were a dizzying sight.

“Forgive my rudeness. I am uneducated and do not know what etiquette to observe. I only know of the pleasures between a man and a woman.”

She gathered the hair covering the nape of her neck and twirled it. Her body remained prone on the bed. At her impudence, everyone's face except for mine turned bright red.

Among them, the reaction of the maids Roena had brought was the most intense. They looked ready to grab Pérignole and slam her violently onto the floor if only Roena gave them permission.

“I am called the Cat of Pleasure. A little darling who brings joy to men.”

Pérignole sat up and gestured to a small girl she had brought with her. The girl, whose face was so gaunt that only bones were visible, began to remove Pérignole's dress as instructed. She must have been in her service for a long time, as she undressed and folded the clothes with remarkable swiftness.

Soon, her pale, voluptuous body was revealed. A body as white as milk and seemingly as soft as silk, it flowed in smooth, gentle curves. Most striking of all were her nipples, which bloomed red like painted flower dots.

“Most young ladies usually begin by simply looking at a naked body. Something like this. ‘What does a body that captivates men look like?’ Well? What do you think?”

She seemed to know exactly how to appear her most alluring. The way she gathered her hair with both hands or darted her tongue out to wet her lips was not only seductive but also quite coquettish. At the same time, she was perfectly at ease—impossibly so for a courtesan standing before noble ladies.

“Once you get used to the breasts, you look lower. At a true woman's body! This continues until you no longer feel shy looking at another's nakedness. Hmm, it's a bit of a tedious process. That's why some ladies ask me to be bold from the start. What do you young ladies think? As for me, I'm already prepared for anything.”

Pérignole cupped her breasts and smiled sweetly. Then, she did something that would have made any innocent young lady turn pale and flee, all without a hint of hesitation.

I felt a laugh bubbling up at her provocation, but I forced it down. Roena, beside me, was panting as if she were about to faint, so I decided to play the part of an innocent young lady.

At that, Pérignole, her face wreathed in a smile, stepped forward lightly. The half-naked woman, her breasts bare and clad in nothing but drawers, soon let out a small, purring cry like an animal in heat and dropped to the floor. She began to crawl forward, swaying her hips, her flushed cheeks and unfocused, languid eyes inspiring strange thoughts. She was approaching Roena.

In a flash, Pérignole reached Roena's knees. She rubbed her cheek against the back of Roena's hand and whispered softly, as if to a man aroused by lust, as if to a client who doted on her.

“Now, give me an order. Quickly. Oh, but don't be too shy, my lovely dear. Everyone goes through this.”

It was at that moment that Roena shot up from her seat. Her face deathly pale, she trembled and scrambled backward. Her wide eyes were filled with tears.

“How dare you! Unhand me! This is wrong. It's wrong!!”

“Oh my? What do you mean?”

Pérignole reached out and took Roena's hand. She then brought Roena's hand to her own breast. The entire sequence of movements was so fluid and natural that even I couldn't quite comprehend what had happened. Only Pérignole was whispering softly with a strange smile.

“Do you mean this?”

*Slap.*

Her head snapped to the side. A vivid handprint was already swelling on her cheek, looking painfully large.

Roena hastily hid her hand behind her back. She seemed utterly flustered, taking another few steps back while shaking her head frantically. The words “I didn't mean to…” spilled endlessly from her slightly parted lips.

But what caught everyone's eye was not Roena's excuse, but the hot tears streaming ceaselessly down her face.

My mother, who had been watching all of this, scurried over in a panic and wrapped her arms around Roena's shoulders. She began to comfort her, but Roena, sobbing in my mother's embrace, fled the room.