“Look at me.”
He turned his back and looked at the motionless woman. The bite on his neck was painful. The doctor said that his neck, which was bitten so deeply that the collarbone was visible, would not heal for a while. Therefore, he should have his neck bandaged during the funeral. It was all right. If Else could get better in that way. If he could turn them back from this immense, unending sadness and silence.
“Else.”
The moment he bent his tongue, he felt dizzy. The bedroom was dark. Fear enveloped him. As the darkness enveloped him deeply, he began to fantasize that Else, who had turned her back, would never look back at him again. If Else ended it like this. If she thought that Hermi had left them, it was the end for them.
He was speechless. His mouth felt dry. He felt like the smell of blood was flowing up his nose, even though he wasn't drinking blood. He overcame his discomfort and cried.
“You can have the child again.”
Abelard alone was enough, but if Else needed his daughter, he would try again. After this night, Else would be in his arms again. They could conceive a child naturally through their lovemaking. After all, they were young and had plenty of time. If Else was ready, he planned to try again.
“Else.”
He called out to the unresponsive woman. Her limp arms twitched. Her forearms moved as if she were rolling up the sheets. Sybil couldn’t stand it anymore and lifted Else up. Her two red eyes were sharp. If only her gaze could chew and swallow, Else would have chewed and swallowed herself right here.
“My heart hurts too!”
He narrowed his eyebrows. He shouted as if he were venting his anger. But Else was still cold.
“...You killed Hermi. You conspired with that dirty bitch to kill my children. Right? You tried to kill my children so you could see them again from that bitch.”
The woman he was holding trembled. She really believed it. She believed that Sybil had ordered Henrietta to kill the child. Sybil stiffened in humiliation, but then quickly parted his lips, fearing that Else’s misunderstanding would continue.
“There is no gain in killing a child.”
“...”
“I am also a father who lost a daughter. You are not the only one who is sad.”
Else did not respond. It would have been difficult for her weak body to endure the groaning under the weight of evil. Sibyl sat down in front of Else and brushed away her flowing hair.
“I will find out what caused Hermi’s death. I will question and punish anyone I need to, even Henrietta.”
A tear fell from one of Else's eyes. Her parched face soon began to wet. Sybil pulled her arm to hug her. Else's hand pushed against his chest.
“...Even if that woman dies, Hermi will not come back.”
“...”
“Even if I get pregnant with another child, it won’t be Hermi.”
The hand on his chest pushed him away. Else tilted her head back and looked up at him. Else, whose outline was so prominent that it made her look like a clown, clung to his chest as if hanging on. Sybil picked up the woman who was about to slip away, as if she had no more strength to endure.
“Hermi isn’t coming back.”
Her lips, covered with white calluses, quivered. Her wet eyes, which had been shining, were empty. She didn't even show a hint of her familiar hatred. It was as if she had completely cut out Sibyl. It seemed as if she would never give him any more room to enter.
"You..."
Her lips twisted. Else was no longer angry. She showed no sign of hatred. Her face was one of letting go of everything. So saying that the child would not return was the same as saying that love would not return.
Dominique was said to be a little boy with brilliant blond hair and lake-like blue eyes. When his father stroked his head, his short hair flowed softly under his palm, and his big eyes widened, giving him the face of a mischievous boy. He was a child who often caused trouble and trouble, but could not be hated. The boy was as brave and affectionate as an angel from heaven. Under the splendid summer sun of Lugdun, Dominique was small and beautiful like a forest fairy.
Else had never seen her brother. But from what she heard... The castle was much more lively when her brother was alive. The servants were kind to the young master, and the parents who looked after such a son were a young couple full of love.
It was a sight that Else could not dare draw. A sight that she could not even dare to imagine. Under the image of her brother that would never fade, no matter how much time passed, her parents were always exposed, torn, and worn.
The servants of the castle were the same. Their pale faces, filled with fatigue, were always indifferent and cold to young Else. So if Else were to meet Dominique in heaven and talk about family and home, wouldn’t it be as if they had different parents? They were so cold to Else that it was hard to say that they were siblings who lived in the same house.
Else thought of her brother. With his death, he took all the life and energy out of the house.
So, what her brother enjoyed, she did not. If her brother had lived. If Else had become her brother's pretty sister and grown up as a harmonious brother and sister, would Else have been loved too? She doesn't know. Her brother must have been a strong and affectionate boy, so he would have felt sorry for Else and loved her.
However, Else was destined not to grow up with her brother. If their son had lived, her parents would not have tried to conceive again. Therefore, for Else to be loved, she had to be born healthy or a boy. Her mother had tried to conceive several times because she wanted a child who resembled her dead brother. She had no choice but to be born a healthy boy who resembled her brother. However... That wasn’t Else. How could a healthy child of a different gender be Else?
"Your Highness."
Jeanne, in her black dress, called Else. Else was in front of the mirror. She had never felt that this face was beautiful. It was natural, since she had never been loved. Regardless of the praise people gave her, she did not like this face. Still, people praised Else breathlessly, saying that she was beautiful. They did not know how deeply she was disgusted by this face. No matter how bad Else was, they could not say that this beautiful face was ugly. So she should be grateful to their parents who gave birth to her.
However, the parents who gave birth to her treated Else like a swindler. Her father said that even if she was beautiful, it was meaningless because her family could not support her. On the contrary, he said that such a splendid beauty was a hindrance to the family.
Her mother suffered from severe postpartum depression right after Else was born and did not see her. It was a few days after Else was born. Her mother said she cried all day in front of her. Her father, who could not stand to see her, brought Else home and left her with the nanny. They said he did not visit her until right after that.
Everything was different from what it had been under Dominique, who said he could not be happier to die. Else was the seed of discord that sprouted in that family. It was natural for her to be compared to her dead brother all the time she was growing up. Even when she laughed, even when she cried. Even when she caused trouble and was noticed by the servants...
'Master Dominic didn't do this...'
She grew up hearing such things. So Else knew best that the next child would not be like Hermi. The more she wished for it, the more the baby in her stomach would be different from the dead baby. She even knew how horrible and cruel it was.
No child grew up with as much favoritism and discrimination as Else. At least her parents did. They loved the dead Dominique more than the living Else. That love was so deeply rooted that it did not waver even when Else was in her twenties.
For Else, having a child to replace the dead child was like stabbing a knife in the neck. For a mother to commit such a terrible act by becoming pregnant again while leaving her child behind...
“Your Highness, here.”
It was a black veil. Else got up and put on her veil. Everything in the palace was black or colorless. Even the flowers on the dresser had no color. The clothes of the nobles and the servants were monotonous. Everything lost its color to mourn the death of the Princess. Sibyl decreed that her daughter would be mourned for a year.
She won't be wearing only dark-colored dresses like a funeral for a year, but she will be wearing black dresses for at least three months of mourning. Even after three months, it won't be the same as before Hermi returned. All the nobles of the court will wear clothes with low saturation, and banquets will be reduced as much as possible, and loud music will be played.
At this point, he was putting in all his effort to mourn the death of his newborn baby. At the very least, as a father. As the King of a country, he should have thought that it was his duty to the young Princess. However, Else...
“Your Highness, the Concubine, please.”
The chapel where Hermi's body was laid was said to be older than the cathedral where the baptism was held recently. The chapel where the baptism was held. So, the cathedral of the palace was used for state events such as coronations and baptisms, but this chapel, connected to the royal crypt, was not used for anything other than royal funerals. Therefore, it was smaller and more monotonous than the cathedral, but the atmosphere was more solemn and the management was thorough.
He turned his back and looked at the motionless woman. The bite on his neck was painful. The doctor said that his neck, which was bitten so deeply that the collarbone was visible, would not heal for a while. Therefore, he should have his neck bandaged during the funeral. It was all right. If Else could get better in that way. If he could turn them back from this immense, unending sadness and silence.
“Else.”
The moment he bent his tongue, he felt dizzy. The bedroom was dark. Fear enveloped him. As the darkness enveloped him deeply, he began to fantasize that Else, who had turned her back, would never look back at him again. If Else ended it like this. If she thought that Hermi had left them, it was the end for them.
He was speechless. His mouth felt dry. He felt like the smell of blood was flowing up his nose, even though he wasn't drinking blood. He overcame his discomfort and cried.
“You can have the child again.”
Abelard alone was enough, but if Else needed his daughter, he would try again. After this night, Else would be in his arms again. They could conceive a child naturally through their lovemaking. After all, they were young and had plenty of time. If Else was ready, he planned to try again.
“Else.”
He called out to the unresponsive woman. Her limp arms twitched. Her forearms moved as if she were rolling up the sheets. Sybil couldn’t stand it anymore and lifted Else up. Her two red eyes were sharp. If only her gaze could chew and swallow, Else would have chewed and swallowed herself right here.
“My heart hurts too!”
He narrowed his eyebrows. He shouted as if he were venting his anger. But Else was still cold.
“...You killed Hermi. You conspired with that dirty bitch to kill my children. Right? You tried to kill my children so you could see them again from that bitch.”
The woman he was holding trembled. She really believed it. She believed that Sybil had ordered Henrietta to kill the child. Sybil stiffened in humiliation, but then quickly parted his lips, fearing that Else’s misunderstanding would continue.
“There is no gain in killing a child.”
“...”
“I am also a father who lost a daughter. You are not the only one who is sad.”
Else did not respond. It would have been difficult for her weak body to endure the groaning under the weight of evil. Sibyl sat down in front of Else and brushed away her flowing hair.
“I will find out what caused Hermi’s death. I will question and punish anyone I need to, even Henrietta.”
A tear fell from one of Else's eyes. Her parched face soon began to wet. Sybil pulled her arm to hug her. Else's hand pushed against his chest.
“...Even if that woman dies, Hermi will not come back.”
“...”
“Even if I get pregnant with another child, it won’t be Hermi.”
The hand on his chest pushed him away. Else tilted her head back and looked up at him. Else, whose outline was so prominent that it made her look like a clown, clung to his chest as if hanging on. Sybil picked up the woman who was about to slip away, as if she had no more strength to endure.
“Hermi isn’t coming back.”
Her lips, covered with white calluses, quivered. Her wet eyes, which had been shining, were empty. She didn't even show a hint of her familiar hatred. It was as if she had completely cut out Sibyl. It seemed as if she would never give him any more room to enter.
"You..."
Her lips twisted. Else was no longer angry. She showed no sign of hatred. Her face was one of letting go of everything. So saying that the child would not return was the same as saying that love would not return.
***
Dominique was said to be a little boy with brilliant blond hair and lake-like blue eyes. When his father stroked his head, his short hair flowed softly under his palm, and his big eyes widened, giving him the face of a mischievous boy. He was a child who often caused trouble and trouble, but could not be hated. The boy was as brave and affectionate as an angel from heaven. Under the splendid summer sun of Lugdun, Dominique was small and beautiful like a forest fairy.
Else had never seen her brother. But from what she heard... The castle was much more lively when her brother was alive. The servants were kind to the young master, and the parents who looked after such a son were a young couple full of love.
It was a sight that Else could not dare draw. A sight that she could not even dare to imagine. Under the image of her brother that would never fade, no matter how much time passed, her parents were always exposed, torn, and worn.
The servants of the castle were the same. Their pale faces, filled with fatigue, were always indifferent and cold to young Else. So if Else were to meet Dominique in heaven and talk about family and home, wouldn’t it be as if they had different parents? They were so cold to Else that it was hard to say that they were siblings who lived in the same house.
Else thought of her brother. With his death, he took all the life and energy out of the house.
So, what her brother enjoyed, she did not. If her brother had lived. If Else had become her brother's pretty sister and grown up as a harmonious brother and sister, would Else have been loved too? She doesn't know. Her brother must have been a strong and affectionate boy, so he would have felt sorry for Else and loved her.
However, Else was destined not to grow up with her brother. If their son had lived, her parents would not have tried to conceive again. Therefore, for Else to be loved, she had to be born healthy or a boy. Her mother had tried to conceive several times because she wanted a child who resembled her dead brother. She had no choice but to be born a healthy boy who resembled her brother. However... That wasn’t Else. How could a healthy child of a different gender be Else?
"Your Highness."
Jeanne, in her black dress, called Else. Else was in front of the mirror. She had never felt that this face was beautiful. It was natural, since she had never been loved. Regardless of the praise people gave her, she did not like this face. Still, people praised Else breathlessly, saying that she was beautiful. They did not know how deeply she was disgusted by this face. No matter how bad Else was, they could not say that this beautiful face was ugly. So she should be grateful to their parents who gave birth to her.
However, the parents who gave birth to her treated Else like a swindler. Her father said that even if she was beautiful, it was meaningless because her family could not support her. On the contrary, he said that such a splendid beauty was a hindrance to the family.
Her mother suffered from severe postpartum depression right after Else was born and did not see her. It was a few days after Else was born. Her mother said she cried all day in front of her. Her father, who could not stand to see her, brought Else home and left her with the nanny. They said he did not visit her until right after that.
Everything was different from what it had been under Dominique, who said he could not be happier to die. Else was the seed of discord that sprouted in that family. It was natural for her to be compared to her dead brother all the time she was growing up. Even when she laughed, even when she cried. Even when she caused trouble and was noticed by the servants...
'Master Dominic didn't do this...'
She grew up hearing such things. So Else knew best that the next child would not be like Hermi. The more she wished for it, the more the baby in her stomach would be different from the dead baby. She even knew how horrible and cruel it was.
No child grew up with as much favoritism and discrimination as Else. At least her parents did. They loved the dead Dominique more than the living Else. That love was so deeply rooted that it did not waver even when Else was in her twenties.
For Else, having a child to replace the dead child was like stabbing a knife in the neck. For a mother to commit such a terrible act by becoming pregnant again while leaving her child behind...
“Your Highness, here.”
It was a black veil. Else got up and put on her veil. Everything in the palace was black or colorless. Even the flowers on the dresser had no color. The clothes of the nobles and the servants were monotonous. Everything lost its color to mourn the death of the Princess. Sibyl decreed that her daughter would be mourned for a year.
She won't be wearing only dark-colored dresses like a funeral for a year, but she will be wearing black dresses for at least three months of mourning. Even after three months, it won't be the same as before Hermi returned. All the nobles of the court will wear clothes with low saturation, and banquets will be reduced as much as possible, and loud music will be played.
At this point, he was putting in all his effort to mourn the death of his newborn baby. At the very least, as a father. As the King of a country, he should have thought that it was his duty to the young Princess. However, Else...
“Your Highness, the Concubine, please.”
The chapel where Hermi's body was laid was said to be older than the cathedral where the baptism was held recently. The chapel where the baptism was held. So, the cathedral of the palace was used for state events such as coronations and baptisms, but this chapel, connected to the royal crypt, was not used for anything other than royal funerals. Therefore, it was smaller and more monotonous than the cathedral, but the atmosphere was more solemn and the management was thorough.
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