The Wolf and the Snake (English version)

Chapter 17

"You can't, my cousin! Reyn must be informed about this rascal's abuse." 

Aurel isn't budging, and I've been trying to convince him for a while. But I still insist, even if my case is hopeless. "He's an important man, dangerous too! Let's remain discreet for the moment! Please, let's wait and learn more."

"My dear cousin, it's not wise to lie in your situation," he notes, looking worried.

I hate he judges me. 

"I didn't commit the irreparable! I only want Reyn to know that he will be a father. He's risking his life on this expedition, and so are you."

"Thank you for remembering that, my cousin!" he says ironically.

I'm at my wit's end.

I'm exhausted but furious inside me, like a real demon.

Snakes could hide in my body, and a terrifying tail covered with shiny scales could arise!

The maids used to tell so much bad nonsense about me.

Tears roll down my face despite me. "You're right! Reyn promised to protect me from the damn snakes, and I tried lying to him."

"What are you talking about, my cousin?" Aurel asks, astonished.

I hesitate to share my secret. 

But he saved me from a monster's claws. 

"My grandmother wasn't only Jewish," I say mysteriously. "Unknown blood flowed in her veins, like mine, and it's a great secret. My grandfather once took in an innocent child. The Turks had slaughtered her unfortunate mother. And the infant swaddle looked more than strange, even terrifying."

"Damn, my cousin! I admit it! You intrigue me, so beautiful and enigmatic."

He seems to make fun of me!

I knew Aurel was a moron. 

He saved me because he had nothing better to do.

"Have you ever seen, embroidered on an infant swaddle, a big crowned snake holding something frail and alive between its fangs?" I reply firmly, determined to shut him up.

Aurel's eyes are like those of a dead fish!

"God, my cousin! It's evil, without a doubt."

Here we go! Whenever the slightest snake is mentioned.

Simon wasn't wrong to regard some Christians as complete fools, considering everything perfectly white or obscure and dangerous.

There's a knock at the door, so the discussion with Aurel will remain shut down for now. Beatrice enters with grace and elegance in the room, visibly worried for me. "Mistress Hersende told me about the terrible attack! It's unbelievable on a royal ship. My husband and his brother will hang this scoundrel, some sailor, no doubt."

I stare at Aurel, hoping he wouldn't contradict me. "Alas, it was dark, and the bandit ran off when he heard the lord of Campemy.

"It's frightening! My husband will double the guard on this ship as long as we haven't found this rascal," Beatrice promises.

Then she turns to Aurel with a charming smile. "Sir Knight, what happiness the rascal fled in front of your sword! You saved my dear Ada, your cousin, according to Mistress Hersende."

"Yes, Your Grace." Aurel bowed to Beatrice, a royal princess, before politely slipping away. He put his mantle back on his broad shoulders. It's a little cold, and I don't have time to change, so I wrap mine around me to hide my torn gown. I can't wait to throw it into the sea and wash myself to remove the monster's traces on my skin.

My brooch shines on my chest, catching Beatrice's gaze.

However, I have an essential question: "Will it be possible to send a rowboat for my husband to board that ship?"

She doesn't answer me, looking fascinated by my pretty brooch.

But suddenly, she turns pale. "How could you? I trusted you so much! I'm outraged! You're just a dirty thief," she growls.

She clenches her teeth, eyes burning with rage, and I don't understand.

Would she be crazy?

"Give me back my jewel, you naughty little witch!" the sweet princess orders.

"My brooch? That's impossible! My poor grandmother offered it to me on her deathbed."

"Damn liar! You're talking to a royal princess and will be thrown overboard if you keep telling lies."

Aurel came back into the room, worried about how things were going. "Your Grace, my cousin isn't a thief," he courageously claims. "There must be an explanation."

"I wish," she roars, "but this jewel is a master goldsmith's work who officiated only for the very high lineage families, and to my knowledge, this object is unique."

I must defend myself because I may be risking my skin. 

I don't think Beatrice is kidding.

"My brooch belonged to a young woman discovered dead in Anatolia long ago. She was my distant grandmother. She had a little girl taken in by poor people and married their son."

Still angry, she retorts harshly, "Give me that brooch! I have to inform my Charles about all this."

I hand her the only precious object remaining from Martha.

Beatrice leaves the room without a word. It's like an evil elf, hidden on the ship, has put a bad spell on me.

Or maybe I'm cursed.

***