Unsette And Yodel

The Duchess walked down the long corridor with a blank expression. Behind her, Olga followed quietly.

Her steps were headed toward Yodel’s bedchamber.

It had been well over a decade since they had last shared a bed. Ever since Christoph’s birth, Yodel had shown more interest in maids than in his wife. Yet the Duchess felt no anger.

Rather, she believed it was she who had first lost interest in this man, whose desires had already withered. And he was indeed a man one could easily lose interest in.

It had been so long since she last visited Yodel’s chamber that she could not remember the last time. The only reason now was to check on his illness—nothing of affection remained.

‘Though there is… another reason.’

A bitter smile spread across her face.

At the far end of the corridor, a heavy, ornate door appeared. The attendant standing guard was startled to see the Duchess, quickly bowing before moving to knock and announce her arrival.

“Stop.”

The Duchess snapped coldly.

The hand halted mid-air.

“That won’t be necessary. Leave us.”

The servant faltered, glancing between the Duchess and the door. Seeing his hesitation, she scolded icily, “Did you not hear me?” Under her chilling glare, he clutched his head and scurried down the corridor.

The Duchess opened the door.

Creeeeak!

Inside, fevered noises and stifling heat greeted the Duchess and Olga.

“Olga, wait outside.”

Closing the door behind her, the Duchess looked around with a frown.

There lay Duke Yodel, little more than skin and bones, his face gaunt and sallow like an old man in his eighties.

On top of him, a maid clung to him with closed eyes, kissing.

Even though all his strength had waned, Yodel’s innate lustful desires had not disappeared. Even if he could not satisfy them directly, unless he did something resembling it immediately, he could not even hold his mind together.

No, in fact, the only thing still vividly intact within his already collapsing mind was this sexual desire.

The young maid too felt an immense embarrassment and illicit thrill from being embraced by Duke Yodel—the highest ruler of the duchy, though he had not yet passed on succession. And on top of that, after he held her tightly, warming himself with her body heat and kissing her, she would be rewarded with silver coins.

“You are working quite hard, aren’t you?”

The Duchess’s mocking words doused cold water on the two, who had been so absorbed in their pleasure they had not even noticed the door opening.

“Ahhh!!!”

The maid shrieked in panic, hurriedly got off him, grabbed her discarded clothes, and bowed her head low before the Duchess.

“F-forgive me! I have committed a mortal sin, My Lady!”

Seeing her shoulders trembling pitifully, the Duchess gave a bitter smile.

“How laughable. You bear no real blame for this. Go on, leave.”

When the maid ran out, Yodel turned his head with a look of displeasure, as though his last remaining diversion had been ruined. This had been his only pleasure in life. At least during these moments, he could muster some strength and recover a sliver of confidence.

“What business do you have, barging in so suddenly?”

“Does a wife really need a reason to enter her husband’s chamber?”

“It’s laughable when that wife does nothing upon coming in.”

“I could still do something. The problem lies with you.”

The Duchess sneered and let her gaze fall upon Yodel’s pitiful body.

The effects of the medicine given by Godrun were all too evident. Not long after being bedridden, Yodel could no longer properly digest his food.

It had utterly drained his strength, to the point he could not even embrace the Duchess. All he could do was lie there limply, wishing for someone to warm him with their body heat.

And when even that ended, all that remained was for him to lie in bed all day, cursing at the ceiling until he drank himself into sleep.

The Duchess sat on the bed and caressed Yodel’s withered chest.

“Poor man. The first time you held me, your passion burned so brightly.”

“Hmph, everyone ages. It only came to me a little earlier, and more strongly.”

On the day she married Yodel, right after her coming-of-age at eighteen, he had taken her up the tower that overlooked all of Nastrand Duchy and its castle, making her gaze upon the vast scenery.

And it was there that he embraced her.

As the pain of tearing gave way to pleasure, she gasped and looked out at the duchy spread below.

“And neither you nor the duchy has changed since then. Not in breadth, nor in depth.”

“What are you saying?”

“Only… about desire and passion.”

The Duchess smiled bitterly.

“Are you trying to reminisce about the old days?”

“I miss the man you were then, so full of ambition.”

“Even now, if I can muster the strength, I can hold you as much as I like. Damn it all.”

“No, it’s not physical strength that matters. To me, a man is far more attractive when his heart and his mind are strong.”

“That is only your opinion. For a ruler, the greatest virtue is to protect what he holds and never lose it.”

“Ever since you changed, I have refused you, and you no longer sought me. But that’s fine. Today, for the last time, I’ve come to this room as your woman.”

“For the last time? As my woman? You’ve stayed away all this while, and now you think this will stop my diversions?”

“I never thought you would become this dull…”

“You…!!!”

Yodel’s mouth froze before the curse could escape, for the Duchess had slowly climbed atop him and embraced him warmly.

The sultry, ripened fragrance of her body filled Yodel’s nose.

“Hoo… I can’t remember how long it’s been, but I know it instantly. Your nape always smelled like a ripened apple. Isn’t that right, Unsette?”

“Don’t call my name. It no longer stirs anything in me when you speak it.”

“What?”

“No… on second thought, I did say this was the last time. Fine. Tonight, I’ll allow it. Call me Unsette. Call me your ‘little lark Unsette,’ just like then.”

The Duchess murmured softly and kissed the ashen lips of the ruler whose strength had all but gone. Then she held him tighter, as though pouring all her warmth into him.

“I truly am grateful. Most of all, I thank you for giving me Christoph.”

“Christoph… is he doing well?”

“Very well. Even better than you think.”

“I must call him someday and teach him this and that.”

“No… you’d best remain here, clinging to maids, just as you always have.”

Holding Yodel quietly, Unsette slowly closed her eyes.

She remembered when the proposal first came—from faraway House Wigrid. When she learned the groom was the heir of this duchy, how her heart had raced.

Unlike other noble daughters, she had always loved history and tales of heroes. To become the wife of a duke was a promise of a grand future.

She had imagined—if not a Valkyrie of myth (a word now forbidden to utter)—then at least a noble lady of renown, aiding her husband as he strode into battle, leaving their names shining in the history of Nastrand.

And as he embraced her atop the tower, Yodel had whispered: “All the lands before your eyes are mine… and yours.”

‘I had asked then, Do your eyes see only what lies before us? And you had replied, ‘If you wish it, I will plant our banner even beyond those mountains.’

Her climax had come at the very moment he whispered those words into her ear.

‘That man… I must let him go now…’

Embracing him, the Duchess gazed upon Yodel and slowly caressed the remnants of his hair, his gaunt face, his hollowed neck and collarbones, and his dried chest.

“Yodel… Yodel Lisberget.”

“Calling my name like that—what strange whim is this?”

“No… just calling it one last time. Not as the hero in books or tales, but as the man who first made me tremble.”

“To hear you say that… Thank you. You are truly a kind woman.”

“Kind? Am I really?”

“Too good for me, too good for this duchy.”

“Oh my… so there still remains a trace of clarity in you.”

After a while, Unsette loosened her embrace, rose, and straightened her disheveled hair.

“That was a fine farewell, my man.”

“Unsette, farewell? What do you mean? If you love me, climb back onto me and warm this withered body. Even now, after so long, when I hold you I feel—”

“No. Coming here was simply my final journey of parting with you in my heart—an expression of gratitude.”

“Such nonsense! Unsette!”

But the Duchess ignored his call, left the chamber without so much as a backward glance.

Outside, Olga was waiting for the Duchess to emerge.

“You have come out, My Lady.”

“Olga, starting tomorrow, double the dosage of the medicine you mix into his water.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“The farewell has been properly made. Now we must prepare the enthronement flawlessly.”

The Duchess smiled faintly and walked ahead toward the corridor.

For a moment, Olga thought she saw tears glistening at the Duchess’s eyes. But she could neither ask, nor look again.