Even If It Means to Break - Chapter 28

How sweet the word death was. Just imagining the end of life made a faint smile rise to her lips.

I want to die. I want to disappear. Father allowed it too, didn’t he? If I just die like this—

“What becomes of the father left behind, I will leave to Hill’s imagination.”

Before she could fully sink into that syrupy fantasy, the man’s voice surfaced in her mind.

Crimson eyes curved in a thin smile, lips twisted in mockery. The image of her father, gasping beneath a beast, rose unbidden, and her heart turned cold. Hill shook her head sharply, as if to drive the thought away.

…But what if her womb really heals because of his blood, and she ends up pregnant?

A new wave of anxiety swelled. Hill wrapped her arms around her flat lower belly and drew her knees up. She knew better than anyone how perfectly a giant’s blood healed wounds.

Perhaps that fear was why she’d recoiled every time the king smeared his blood on her. What if it seeped into her veins and repaired even her ruined womb?

If she really did end up carrying that man’s child…

The image of a screaming newborn made her stomach churn. She gagged violently and spat up thick mucus.

…It’s fine. Even if she was unlucky enough to get pregnant, she can get rid of it in secret.

Wiping her mouth, Hill ran through the ways she could erase a child. A hard blow to the belly. Scraping the inside again, like before. Taking medicine.

Or perhaps none of that would even be necessary. The man wasn’t the sort who would abstain just because she was pregnant. If he kept taking her that roughly, a miscarriage would come naturally.

Yes. It’s fine. There’s no need to worry about something that hasn’t even happened.

She climbed back onto the bed, curled in on herself, and held her stomach as she drifted into a shallow sleep.

Time passed.

After giving up on escape, she stopped counting it. Weeks—maybe months—might have gone by.

She survived each day, merely letting it pass, drowning in lust and self-destruction. When her father, unable even to pronounce her name properly anymore, was brought in to sit for a few hours, she would think, Ah… another week must have passed.

A thin beam of sunlight slipped through a barely open crack in the door.

She cupped her palm, cradling that small handful of light like it was precious.

As she held onto its faint warmth, nausea suddenly surged. She leaned over the chamber pot and retched.

Even after vomiting up what little she had eaten, her stomach wouldn’t settle. She’d always been prone to nausea, but lately it had grown worse. Andouche worried aloud that at this rate her throat and teeth would be ruined.

…No way.

A sudden, ominous thought brushed past her heart.

Come to think of it, when was the last time she had her period?

She wasn’t especially regular, but she usually bled once every four cycles without fail. And yet she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen it.

No. No, that’s not it.

He keeps injecting blood into her down there, maybe she just didn’t notice it was period blood too.

When he shoved his hand all the way in, determined to fill it properly, even she, who was long numb to rough s*x, would ache for a day or two. And afterward, blood would sometimes mix with her urine for as long as four days. It wasn’t impossible she’d missed it.

It’s fine. Don’t worry. Hill hugged her gaunt belly and murmured the words like a charm.

More time passed.

The sudden bouts of nausea faded. Because of that, she found it easier to eat.

As her appetite improved, a little flesh returned to her once skeletal body. Andouche flashed a rare smile as she said it was finally worth all the effort of feeding her. Hill stared blankly at that smiling face.

When Hill began eating more than just thin porridge or soup, Andouche started preparing dozens of dishes each day. Some were fruits from other continents, rare even in the desert.

On days she barely touched her meals, she would still eat the fruit. The tartness soothed her unsettled stomach.

Seeing that Hill favored fruit, Andouche began keeping a large bowl filled at all times. With a simple reach, glossy fruit would roll into her fingers. As she picked at them out of habit, her appetite gradually returned. Before she knew it, she was eating every meal.

“I hear you’ve been eating well lately.”

The man smiled in satisfaction as he touched her cheeks, now carrying a bit of fullness. Hill simply stayed still, letting him do as he pleased. His fingers traced down from her jaw to her neck, lifting the thin fabric of her clothing. Her chest, faintly visible through the cloth, was fully exposed.

Supporting her b*****s, the man reached to the side with his left hand. His fingers brushed a silver bowl. After idly touching several fruits, he picked out one that was particularly small.

It was clear red, almost translucent. Pressing it against her b****t, he bit her ear and murmured,

“I hear you like fruit. And this one resembles Hill’s own bud so well.”

“Ah…!”

As he gently rubbed the fruit and her n****e between his fingers, Hill crossed her legs and let out a soft moan. He pressed the firm fruit against her n****e and rolled it as if counting beads. Warm breath spilled between her parted lips.