I gladly let go of the strings of consciousness. But it never happened that I opened my eyes in the world of rest.
I woke up from my sleep, feeling the warm, wet towel gently wipe away my face and the nape of my neck, and looked up at the man who looked like a blurry shadow in the distance.
He carefully pulled my pajamas down to my waist and slowly ran them down my back with a warm towel.
Suddenly, I thought that this might not be the first time he had cleaned my body in this way. Barcas's touch was so skillful.
He looked down at my face, stopping all movements, as if he knew I had woken up.
Then, when I didn't show any signs of refusal, he peeled off my linen tunic to the bottom of my legs and wiped every inch of my sweaty body.
Despite my desperate efforts not to reveal my tormented body, I couldn't feel any inspiration. I just stared blankly at him, not understanding why he was doing such a troublesome thing.
He took out new clothes instead of dirty pajamas, put them on, and carefully poured water from the herbs into my mouth.
I let him do as he did. I thought it was a bit annoying, but it was even more troublesome to refuse and push it away.
He didn't ask for any response, as if he knew I was tired. He just hugged me and gave me water and medicine from time to time.
And from time to time, he called a Priestess to cast a recovery spell on me.
I lay still and waited for all those troubles to pass.
I couldn't tell how much more time had passed.
As I was drifting on the boundary between consciousness and unconscious, someone came to my room and asked Barcas to talk.
I thought the voice was somewhat familiar, but I couldn't remember whose voice it was.
The man, who barely got out of bed, stood at the door and talked to the visitor in a low voice. I stared at the wide back standing with my back to the light for a while, and then I lost all interest and closed my eyes.
"I'll go out for a moment and come back."
Just as I was about to fall asleep again, Barcas returned to bed and leaned over at the bedside.
I couldn't figure out why he was asking for my permission. When I opened my eyelids for a moment and then closed them, the man standing still next to the bed picked up his jacket and left the room.
At the same time, three or four women entered the room. Apparently, he had called those who would take care of me.
One of them came to the bedside and spoke to me in a soft voice, but I couldn't understand what she was saying.
It was as if a thick, smoked curtain surrounded me.
I, who had been staring at the ghostly, blurry figure beyond the hazy intangible barrier for a moment, soon turned around as if I was annoyed. And I obsessively chased sleep.
But this time, I couldn't sleep that long.
With a clearer mind, I looked around the darkly shadowed room. Two young maids were dozing off in front of the fireplace, and Marisen and the nanny were sitting beside the bed.
"Are you a little sober now?"
The healer who was decocting herbs found me open and said with a smile.
I struggled to soothe my dry lips.
"...What happened to my baby?"
It was a question that I vomited out without even realizing it.
It wasn't until I uttered the question that I realized I had been swallowing it all along.
Even in the midst of my confusion, I looked up while waiting for the answer to the question I couldn't bear to ask, and a deep trace of remorse appeared on the healer's face.
When the woman lowered her eyes without saying anything, the nanny, who was snorting next to the bed, said in a voice filled with sullenness.
"The stillborn child was buried well in the backyard of the chapel."
I looked at her with empty eyes.
The nanny grabbed my hand, hanging like a dead bird, and continued to stutter.
"It was a boy. If he had been born safely, he would have been a very beautiful baby..."
The nanny, who was sobbing with shaking shoulders, wiped away her tears with her other hand and smiled comfortingly.
"But don't be too heartbroken. Your Highness is still young, so I'm sure you will be able to have a beautiful baby again."
At that moment, I felt like I was being stabbed.
I couldn't figure out why those words were causing me so much pain. However, I could clearly recognize the sharp pain that felt like my heart was splitting.
If half of my senses had not been dead, I would have let out a scream of pain.
I, who was trembling faintly, struggled to pull out my hand.
"...I want to be alone. Everyone, get out."
"But the Grand Duke strongly advised me not to take my eyes off you for a moment..."
"Get up quickly."
Marisen raised the nanny to her feet. The nanny, who looked puzzled, quietly got up off the bed.
The healer who pushed her to the door also gave a glance at the maids.
The girls, who had been hesitating for a moment, also hesitated and walked outside, and the healer, who grabbed the doorknob, politely added.
"I'll be waiting in the next room. If you need anything, please shake the bell at any time."
With those words, silence came.
I closed my eyes, burying my face in the cold blanket. But my mind only became clearer.
As I struggled to stop the convulsive tremors, I suddenly remembered the sleeping candle I had prepared for use in an emergency and stood up.
I stumbled and walked to the shelf, opened the cabinet, and saw several emergency reagents and a bundle of dried herbs.
I found a scented candle made from crushed herbs and stuck it into a fist-sized brazier. Then I tilted the candlestick, lit the wick, and waited for the smoke to rise.
A bitter scent wafted in. I sat down on the carpet and inhaled it deeply.
Soon after, the sharp nerves softened, and my mind gradually became hazy.
I was happy to see the world blurring. The world is so sharp. I wish everything were as faint as this acting.
I leaned back on the bed and inhaled the acrid smoke even deeper.
How long did I do that?
Just as the whole world was starting to mess up, I heard a strange sound from somewhere.
I slowly lifted my dizzy eyes.
Inside the room, only the light from the fireplace and candlesticks was glowing loudly. However, the sound that had been ringing only in my ears became clearer and clearer.
I stumbled up and approached the rattling windowsill. The scenery of the manor, soaked in rain, filled the view. Someone was sobbing pitifully on the other side of the ink-stained world.
I, who stood still and listened to the cry, turned my feet as if drawn by something.
When I opened the door and went outside, I saw a hallway shrouded in silence. I could see the shadows of those who were standing guard on the other side of the darkness.
I didn't want to run into them, so I stepped onto the narrow staircase on the other side.
I did not know how I was able to descend the steep stairs. As I walked and walked, I was standing in the rain pouring down from the castle's backyard.
I frowned in confusion. As my mind calmed down a little, a faint question arose.
Why on earth did I sneak out of the room like a thief?
As I looked up at the black sky pouring rain from afar, I heard another cry.
I continued my precarious steps again, like a person tied to an Invisible thread.
The cold mud stuck to my bare feet.
I felt a sharp pain in the soles of my feet, as if I had stepped on something sharp. However, the leg that was out of my will did not stop and continued to move forward.
How long will it take to float aimlessly in a world soaked in rainwater without knowing where you are going? Suddenly, I realized that I had arrived in front of the chapel.
I looked up at the building with stunned eyes and then stomped my foot into the dark entrance. As I passed through the empty space and went out to the exit on the other side, I saw trees with bones, thorny bushes, and a small grave where it didn't even get a headstone.
I stumbled forward in front of it.
Finally, the buzzing sound in my ears stopped.
I blinked my stinging eyes and looked down at a small pile of dirt with a few withered flowers.
Only then did I realize the identity of the sound that led me.
It was the cry of a baby.
Suddenly, a thin sense of loss flowed out. I couldn't figure out why I was laughing.
I, who was shaking my shoulders while holding my stomach, soon sat down as if I were about to collapse, groping for a pile of ice-cold dirt.
Hot rainwater poured down on the muddy backs of my hands. Do I know it wasn't rainwater?
It wasn't until I noticed my tearful vision that I realized that I wasn't laughing; she was crying.
A deep sob tangled in my throat like mucus. As I clutched my throat as if someone was gasping for breath, I soon let out a bitter cry as if I were sucking muddy water.
The despair that had been put on hold poured out all at once.
The world beyond the opaque membrane was shattered and embedded in frozen skin. I leaned over the grave as if I were about to fall.
At that moment, I heard the sound of wet footsteps.
A shadow like twilight shone in my tear-stained vision.
I lifted my empty eyes and looked at the man standing in the rain. A steamy haze rose over his large body, wrapped in a wet shirt. His chest, which was going up and down rapidly, slowly got closer. Soon after, a pale hand reached out towards me.
I knew the hand. It was the hand that gave me hope and made me taste despair.
As if I had held out a weapon, I threw my shoulders back, and the man who was approaching stopped moving.
The icy rain covered his cold, white face. Through the veil of rain, I could see the two eyes that once shone with a silver crown. But now all I could see was the devastated ruins.
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