Chapter One: The Kind Human Who Gives Me Food
“I’LL never love you,” says the man who has become my lord husband. His expression is as stern as the solemn furniture in our room, a needlessly large bed and set of matching furnishings probably crafted by a famous artisan. The dim light filtering through the lamp shade on the bedside table makes the high bridge of his nose stand out and adds a shine to his black hair.
Slightly puzzled, I wait for him to elaborate.
“…Do you understand?”
All right, no elaboration, then. I guess that means I can ask questions. “What does my lord mean, exactly?”
“…What?” my husband, Lord Gerald Noel Drewett, asks in a lowered tone. His brow furrows.
The matter is crucial to me, so I need to know for sure: “…I’d like to eat.”
“Huh?”
“Am I not allowed to eat?!” How unimaginable! A true life-or-death situation!
“What are you saying? I’m not planning to deprive you of clothing, sustenance, or shelter…”
“So I’ll be given food?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you!”
I clench my fists in triumph. I, Abigail, have succeeded! No more sneaking into the kitchen for scraps! The cook at Earl Longhurst’s mansion, my family home, always pretended not to see me, yet I never felt comfortable having to hide to eat.
My stepmother and stepsister often seemed to have a hard time deciding whether they wanted to kill me or suffer me to live, though I wonder if they knew that depriving a person of food for two days isn’t enough to cause death by starvation.
I can bid goodbye to that life now. Maybe I won’t be fed my fill, but at least I won’t be so hungry that I become nauseous.
Since my lord husband has decided he won’t starve me, I need to do my best as his wife to ensure he doesn’t change his mind. I straighten and look him right in the eye. Oh, the blueness of them shimmers and shifts between light and dark, from the bright cerulean of spring water under the afternoon sun to the deep navy of the night sky. The effect is surely a sign of his great magical prowess.
“What would you like me to do?” I inquire.
“What?”
“I learned that a wife must allow her husband everything on their first night together, and I don’t wish to trouble my lord too much, so…there.” I pull the ribbon at the collar of my thin, fluttering nightgown, letting it fall open to expose my front. I marvel at how easily the garment comes apart; I hadn’t noticed its construction because the maids dressed me so hurriedly.
My lord husband appears shocked. “Stop, stop, stop! No need to undress,” he gabbles as he grabs the robe he placed on the sofa earlier and moves to cover me. “Didn’t you hear? I said I’ll never love you.”
“Oh! Is this what you meant?”
“…You’re even worse than they say.” The frown on his face deepens as he turns to leave the room.
…I guess that means it’s okay for me to sleep here?
✦ ✦ ✦
🎂🎂🎂
MY lord husband is Marquis Drewett’s second son, and I think he serves in the military. The bed is so warm and soft that I fall into a deep sleep, and when I finally wake, he has already left for work. Maybe I should have tried to rise to see him off. Instead, the head maid greets me with a pinched expression… Maybe I wasn’t allowed to sleep here, after all? Afraid to incur more displeasure, I decide to stay silent.
Oh, how warm and clean this bed is. I hope I’ll be permitted to use it again.
“…My lady, would you like some breakfast?”
In addition to his status as the marquis’s second son, my lord husband also holds the title of viscount thanks to his military achievements during some war or conflict that occurred a few years prior. Thus, the world knows him as Viscount Noel. The residence I occupy, a manse in the capital, belongs to him, and as his wife, I suppose I am the lady of the house. But that realization hardly sinks in as I stare at my breakfast tray.
A fluffy and runny omelet made with cheese and something else—maybe chopped vegetables? A round bun with gleaming smooth skin, the crisp exterior belying a soft inside. Sausages bursting out of their skins, dripping with fat, and full of meaty juices that spurt with each bite! And the soup is a clear golden color and seasoned with a flavor I don’t recognize. Vibrant, glistening fruits, their sparkle like that of my stepmother’s beloved jewels, whose sweetness I’ve yet to savor.
I want to eat more, to taste those fruits, but my stomach hurts and I can barely manage another mouthful. In the end, I’m able to nibble one bite out of each fruit, and although I desperately want more, that is all I can handle.
“That was so delicious… I’ll finish the rest for lunch.”
The head maid’s face twists again. I know I’m to return my leftovers to the kitchen where the servants can have their pick of what remains, so nothing goes to waste, but that’s not fair. I want to eat more. I didn’t want to have such a small appetite! What a useless stomach! How pathetic!
“If the food was to your liking, I will bring up a new tray for lu—”
“What?!”
The head maid blinks twice at my outburst. A new tray? Enough food for both breakfast and lunch?! Can it really be true? Will I not have to go hungry at all?
“What is this…? A hot and delicious meal for lunch too…? How wonderful it is to be lady of the house…”
The head hesitates as though she has something to say but dares not voice it. I decide that she must be very kind, so long as she continues to feed me.
Before I was born Abigail Longhurst, I was the Monster King in what I guess was a previous life. Or so the humans called me. Back then, the humans who brought me food were kind too.
The Monster King came into being amid rock and withered grass. Living in such a place, it inevitably grew hungry. It didn’t have any arms or legs initially, so it got around by wriggling or slithering on the ground.
Once I became Abigail, I no longer possessed the Monster King’s thoughts, yet I somehow still remember events as they transpired—such as the Monster King’s early days.
When the Monster King was still small and slithering, another monster flew down from above and grabbed it. The other monster probably wanted to bring it back to a nest as food, and it was whisked away into the sky. Once it realized what was happening, the Monster King started to struggle, to fight for its survival.
Suddenly, the offending creature let out a squeak and dropped its prey, and the Monster King landed in a forest that was home to several other monsters.
The Monster King’s small size made it the perfect morsel, and though it was repeatedly attacked, it managed to retaliate, and those monsters became the Monster King’s meal instead.
The Monster King was relatively strong, yet that was only one reason it was eventually dubbed the Monster King. It could also call lightning and summon fire. Oh, it only did the latter once. The trees were engulfed, and the surrounds grew so hot that, no matter its efforts, it couldn’t extinguish the inferno. In the end, it resorted to freezing the air above the wood to smother the conflagration, and the entire forest was reduced to a wasteland.
And so the Monster King lived.
Humans sometimes wandered into its area, lost. By then, it was as large as a man, perhaps because it ate so many types of monsters. It had sprouted lots of hands and feet, eyes and mouths. For some reason, however, it never devoured anyone unless they attacked it first.
Most humans who saw it merely fled in panic, dropping all they carried and running at the sight of the Monster King. And occasionally, amid their abandoned belongings were delicious lunch boxes! Filled with food that didn’t smell of raw meat or blood. The food was slightly salted or sweet.
Indeed, I no longer possess the Monster King’s thoughts, but I remember the taste well. But the sausages this morning were so much better than any meat the Monster King had… I’m so glad to be a human…
“…? M-My lady?! Are you all right?! My lady!”
The head maid’s shouts echo from far away as I clutch my aching stomach in a hidden corner of the room. See? I knew she was a kind soul.