The doctor told her to make a sound. Else sat blankly and strained her throat. At first, nothing came out, but the second time, only an 'ah' sound came out. Like a snapping rubber band. Although the sound came out in short pieces, it was weak and muffled, so it was difficult to call it 'speech'. Furthermore, the more she did as the doctor told her, the more she broke into a cold sweat. In the end, she was too tired to do anything.
The doctor constantly bombarded her with demands and questions, such as asking her to stick her tongue out or touch the ceiling with her tongue, or to say consonants and vowels. Else was annoyed. Breathing was annoying, and opening and closing her eyes was annoying. Above all, looking at the man was... burdensome and difficult.
It was horrible to even have that man next to her. She wanted to lose consciousness again because she hated being in the same space as him. She didn't know why she was alive. Why on earth, why on earth... Else was so angry that she almost cried. But she didn't cry. It took strength to cry, but she didn't have the energy to even do that.
“You need to eat.”
The man approached her often. Else turned her head away from him as much as possible, trying not to let him see her. She couldn't speak, so she couldn't tell him not to come. Of course, he wasn't the kind of person who would listen to her even if she did.
But she didn't know that not being able to express it, not having the strength to express it, would be so frustrating and frustrating. All she could do was glare at the man and warm her eyes.
“If you want to be healthy, you have to eat well.”
The man gently coaxed her. Else found even his voice disgusting. It was so disgusting that it made her feel sick. She looked away, only looking at the crumpled hem of the blanket. She had failed to commit suicide. She thought she was dead... But she wasn’t dead.
It felt like a very long dream. The time she lost consciousness was 15 days and 4 days, but Else felt like she had slept soundly for about a day. Of course, when she woke up, her head hurt. Her back of her head was pulled, and it was hard to breathe. Her head hurt as if a steel bar was hanging from it, and her vision was dizzy, but there were no other bad symptoms.
However...
'I think it's aphasia.'
The gloomy-faced doctor spoke. Else listened quietly, not knowing what he meant. The serious thing was the man. Whether she had lost her speech or her tongue... Else didn’t care. The reason Else was suffering and angry was the fact that she couldn’t die.
The fact that she had opened her eyes again. The reality that she could not follow her daughter to the afterlife was terrifying. The place where Hermi had gone so easily... Else did not like the fact that things were so difficult. The doctor who had taken care of her when she was young had said that Else would not live long. She had suffered from so many fevers that she would lose one eye or ear and become mute or a deaf person. That was not all. The doctor said that Else would die young, so they should marry her off while her uterus was still in good condition. But Else did not die young, and her wrist, where she had cut herself, was still alive and breathing. It was unfair and miserable. She wanted to die, but even dying was not something she could do as she pleased. Nothing was going the way she wanted.
“You have to see Abel.”
“...”
“He's looking for my mom.”
Else didn't react. Sibyl, who was kneeling under the bed, tried to grab her hand. But he stopped. He cautiously touched only her fingertips, observing her expression. Else hated that alone. It was disgusting and disgusting enough. She shook his hand away as if a bug had bitten her fingertip.
The man stiffened slightly. He opened his mouth again. It must be about his son. He spoke to Else about the child as if that was all he had left.
“Don’t you want to see Abel? How big he’s grown...”
She didn't want to hear it. It's not that she didn't like children, but she felt horrible for a man who tried to use children to get a reaction out of her. Hermi was the same. He knew that she couldn't move when it came to children. He knew that she only had children left, and that she lived only for them.
He always used the young children who didn't know anything to push her. Why on earth? Else couldn't understand why he would do that. It was the same with taking Hermi away. She told him to take Abel instead. She told him not to take a sick child away from her. Hermi was really sick, and even breathing was sometimes painful for her.
She was always a fragile child because she could not do anything else. And yet... Even though she begged and pleaded so much, in the end. In the end. If he had thought of the child even a little. If he had thought of the children even a little as a father...
'Hermi.'
Else looked at him as he handed her the spoon. Else threw the spoon fiercely and then threw the bowl of stew at him. She couldn't figure out where she got the strength from. He stared at Else expressionlessly as he was hit by the hot stew. The bowl fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.
The tongue was not bent. The doctor said it was a psychological problem. There was no problem with the organs that could make consonants and vowels. It was natural that the tongue would not be bruised or the soft palate would be worn out just because the wrist was cut. However, the throat was dry, and the only sound she could hear was the sound of the wind leaking out, and she could only groan intermittently.
No matter how angry she was, she couldn't speak. She relaxed her grip on the blanket. It might have been better not to speak at all. If only her voice had come out properly. If only her tongue had been able to move properly and speak, she didn't know how this beast in front of her would kill her.
She turned her head. Sibyl got up and rang the bell. The servant who opened the door and came in flinched and soon began to clear away the scattered dishes.
“Bring back the food.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sibyl, not even feeling a shudder, ordered the food to be brought again. Soon after, the maid brought the stew again. It was steaming hot. Sibyl held out a silver spoon. Else took it and threw it at him. Then she threw back the bowl containing the stew.
Food was once again sprinkled on Sibyl's eyes, which had been slightly reddened by the burn. However, Sibyl seemed not to care and simply wiped the contents off the blanket and Else's hands.
'Get out.'
Instead of humming, Else moved her lips. Sibyl glanced at her and took hold of her small hand. Else’s face twisted.
“...Because it hurts, this is all I can do.”
The veins in her slightly shaking eyes began to bulge. Else slapped Sybil's cheek. The way he touched her hand. The way he could hear her breathing. She hated it all. The fact that they were sitting in the same space was horrible and unbearable.
“You have to eat well.”
“Huh, huh...”
Else lowered her head, unable to bear her own trembling. Her slender body began to tilt to the left. Else tried to give Sybil some strength to support her. However, her tilting body was inevitably caught in Sybil’s arms.
“You have no strength because you don’t eat well.”
He smiled gently. Now, even his smiling face was disgusting. She wanted to tear him apart. As if knowing her feelings, Sybil gently pulled the corner of his lips and lay down on the bed. Else only fluttered slightly like a fish being dragged out of the water.
“I’ll call Sir Alexander’s wife. Is that okay?”
Sibyl said, wiping the food that had splattered on her hands. The maid behind him picked up the end of the blanket to change it. Sibyl thought of the woman staring at him with red eyes. The woman who had been ruined to the point of ruin could no longer cry.
The tears dried on her face, which was scratched and bruised. Sybil turned around. He bit his lip. His ankles felt like they would break with every step he took. It was all his doing. Making Hermi... Killing his daughter. Making Else break like that.
"Your Majesty."
Count Loper. Alexander called him. Sybil stared at him blankly and then turned around. Alexander followed him.
'I don't want to see it.'
Jules read the writing on the white paper. She could tell who the short, scribbled sentences were referring to and what they were saying. Jules said nothing and looked down at Else's hand holding the quill. Else said nothing more.
“Let’s eat first and then talk.”
Jules raised her head. Else frowned at those words and wrote urgently.
'No. I won't eat anything until I get out of here.'
This time, the handwriting was messier. She must have been in a hurry because her hand kept slipping from the pen. Jules snatched the pen away from her. Else didn’t fight back, but just glared at Jules. It was like looking at a child. It made her think that giving birth was so hard and painful.
“I will ask His Majesty to allow me to move the palace after you eat. However, if you don’t eat anything, I will have no choice but to stay here. He is not the kind of person who would ignore you in such pain.”
Jules spoke firmly as if she were talking to her daughter. Else’s eyes relaxed as if he understood. Jules brought her food. She fed her some thin stew. Else’s eyes were red, even though she didn’t cry. Does this happen when a child starts a household?
The doctor constantly bombarded her with demands and questions, such as asking her to stick her tongue out or touch the ceiling with her tongue, or to say consonants and vowels. Else was annoyed. Breathing was annoying, and opening and closing her eyes was annoying. Above all, looking at the man was... burdensome and difficult.
It was horrible to even have that man next to her. She wanted to lose consciousness again because she hated being in the same space as him. She didn't know why she was alive. Why on earth, why on earth... Else was so angry that she almost cried. But she didn't cry. It took strength to cry, but she didn't have the energy to even do that.
“You need to eat.”
The man approached her often. Else turned her head away from him as much as possible, trying not to let him see her. She couldn't speak, so she couldn't tell him not to come. Of course, he wasn't the kind of person who would listen to her even if she did.
But she didn't know that not being able to express it, not having the strength to express it, would be so frustrating and frustrating. All she could do was glare at the man and warm her eyes.
“If you want to be healthy, you have to eat well.”
The man gently coaxed her. Else found even his voice disgusting. It was so disgusting that it made her feel sick. She looked away, only looking at the crumpled hem of the blanket. She had failed to commit suicide. She thought she was dead... But she wasn’t dead.
It felt like a very long dream. The time she lost consciousness was 15 days and 4 days, but Else felt like she had slept soundly for about a day. Of course, when she woke up, her head hurt. Her back of her head was pulled, and it was hard to breathe. Her head hurt as if a steel bar was hanging from it, and her vision was dizzy, but there were no other bad symptoms.
However...
'I think it's aphasia.'
The gloomy-faced doctor spoke. Else listened quietly, not knowing what he meant. The serious thing was the man. Whether she had lost her speech or her tongue... Else didn’t care. The reason Else was suffering and angry was the fact that she couldn’t die.
The fact that she had opened her eyes again. The reality that she could not follow her daughter to the afterlife was terrifying. The place where Hermi had gone so easily... Else did not like the fact that things were so difficult. The doctor who had taken care of her when she was young had said that Else would not live long. She had suffered from so many fevers that she would lose one eye or ear and become mute or a deaf person. That was not all. The doctor said that Else would die young, so they should marry her off while her uterus was still in good condition. But Else did not die young, and her wrist, where she had cut herself, was still alive and breathing. It was unfair and miserable. She wanted to die, but even dying was not something she could do as she pleased. Nothing was going the way she wanted.
“You have to see Abel.”
“...”
“He's looking for my mom.”
Else didn't react. Sibyl, who was kneeling under the bed, tried to grab her hand. But he stopped. He cautiously touched only her fingertips, observing her expression. Else hated that alone. It was disgusting and disgusting enough. She shook his hand away as if a bug had bitten her fingertip.
The man stiffened slightly. He opened his mouth again. It must be about his son. He spoke to Else about the child as if that was all he had left.
“Don’t you want to see Abel? How big he’s grown...”
She didn't want to hear it. It's not that she didn't like children, but she felt horrible for a man who tried to use children to get a reaction out of her. Hermi was the same. He knew that she couldn't move when it came to children. He knew that she only had children left, and that she lived only for them.
He always used the young children who didn't know anything to push her. Why on earth? Else couldn't understand why he would do that. It was the same with taking Hermi away. She told him to take Abel instead. She told him not to take a sick child away from her. Hermi was really sick, and even breathing was sometimes painful for her.
She was always a fragile child because she could not do anything else. And yet... Even though she begged and pleaded so much, in the end. In the end. If he had thought of the child even a little. If he had thought of the children even a little as a father...
'Hermi.'
Else looked at him as he handed her the spoon. Else threw the spoon fiercely and then threw the bowl of stew at him. She couldn't figure out where she got the strength from. He stared at Else expressionlessly as he was hit by the hot stew. The bowl fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.
The tongue was not bent. The doctor said it was a psychological problem. There was no problem with the organs that could make consonants and vowels. It was natural that the tongue would not be bruised or the soft palate would be worn out just because the wrist was cut. However, the throat was dry, and the only sound she could hear was the sound of the wind leaking out, and she could only groan intermittently.
No matter how angry she was, she couldn't speak. She relaxed her grip on the blanket. It might have been better not to speak at all. If only her voice had come out properly. If only her tongue had been able to move properly and speak, she didn't know how this beast in front of her would kill her.
She turned her head. Sibyl got up and rang the bell. The servant who opened the door and came in flinched and soon began to clear away the scattered dishes.
“Bring back the food.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sibyl, not even feeling a shudder, ordered the food to be brought again. Soon after, the maid brought the stew again. It was steaming hot. Sibyl held out a silver spoon. Else took it and threw it at him. Then she threw back the bowl containing the stew.
Food was once again sprinkled on Sibyl's eyes, which had been slightly reddened by the burn. However, Sibyl seemed not to care and simply wiped the contents off the blanket and Else's hands.
'Get out.'
Instead of humming, Else moved her lips. Sibyl glanced at her and took hold of her small hand. Else’s face twisted.
“...Because it hurts, this is all I can do.”
The veins in her slightly shaking eyes began to bulge. Else slapped Sybil's cheek. The way he touched her hand. The way he could hear her breathing. She hated it all. The fact that they were sitting in the same space was horrible and unbearable.
“You have to eat well.”
“Huh, huh...”
Else lowered her head, unable to bear her own trembling. Her slender body began to tilt to the left. Else tried to give Sybil some strength to support her. However, her tilting body was inevitably caught in Sybil’s arms.
“You have no strength because you don’t eat well.”
He smiled gently. Now, even his smiling face was disgusting. She wanted to tear him apart. As if knowing her feelings, Sybil gently pulled the corner of his lips and lay down on the bed. Else only fluttered slightly like a fish being dragged out of the water.
“I’ll call Sir Alexander’s wife. Is that okay?”
Sibyl said, wiping the food that had splattered on her hands. The maid behind him picked up the end of the blanket to change it. Sibyl thought of the woman staring at him with red eyes. The woman who had been ruined to the point of ruin could no longer cry.
The tears dried on her face, which was scratched and bruised. Sybil turned around. He bit his lip. His ankles felt like they would break with every step he took. It was all his doing. Making Hermi... Killing his daughter. Making Else break like that.
"Your Majesty."
Count Loper. Alexander called him. Sybil stared at him blankly and then turned around. Alexander followed him.
***
'I don't want to see it.'
Jules read the writing on the white paper. She could tell who the short, scribbled sentences were referring to and what they were saying. Jules said nothing and looked down at Else's hand holding the quill. Else said nothing more.
“Let’s eat first and then talk.”
Jules raised her head. Else frowned at those words and wrote urgently.
'No. I won't eat anything until I get out of here.'
This time, the handwriting was messier. She must have been in a hurry because her hand kept slipping from the pen. Jules snatched the pen away from her. Else didn’t fight back, but just glared at Jules. It was like looking at a child. It made her think that giving birth was so hard and painful.
“I will ask His Majesty to allow me to move the palace after you eat. However, if you don’t eat anything, I will have no choice but to stay here. He is not the kind of person who would ignore you in such pain.”
Jules spoke firmly as if she were talking to her daughter. Else’s eyes relaxed as if he understood. Jules brought her food. She fed her some thin stew. Else’s eyes were red, even though she didn’t cry. Does this happen when a child starts a household?
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