Even If It Means to Break - Chapter 32

He was a monster who could scarcely be wounded unless he willed it himself. It would have been more accurate to see him as an unavoidable natural disaster.

Clutching at the scattered sunlight filtering through the leaves, Hill reproached her past self.

If only she had realized this sooner.

She covered her noticeably rounded belly with her palm and leaned her head against the tree. Like a spell, she repeated the thought over and over.

Even now, it’s not too late. Be obedient, just as he said. Don’t defy him. Submit to him.

If she didn’t resist, the man showed a certain degree of mercy. Look, how long had it been since she’d breathed fresh air like this?

He was a tyrant, but precisely because of that, he was generous to what belonged within his fence. As long as she didn’t offend his temper, he would grant almost any request without difficulty.

So, for the child’s sake, at least…

Her hand tightened over her belly. Thinking of the man’s flat, indifferent attitude when he spoke of death—even of his own child—sent a strange unease creeping up to her.

If she keeps acting rebellious, he might get rid of this child without hesitation, too.

That couldn’t happen. The baby was innocent, without a single fault. If there was any sin, it was only the crime of being born to the wrong parents. Since the father felt no attachment at all, she at least had to cherish the child.

My tiny, fragile baby.

The more she thought of the child, the stronger her resolve to obey the man became. Hill held her belly and engraved that truth deeply into herself.

After that, she became visibly brighter. She ate well, slept well, and smiled often. If she needed anything, she would ask the man in a coaxing tone after they finished making love. He would laugh with pleasure and readily grant her requests.

Her quarters were moved to the Second Palace. A room with three large windows flooded with light. Nutritious, delicious foods were presented one after another, and precious items for a newborn filled the space.

Whenever she wished, she could go outside for air. Whatever she wanted, she could have. She was allowed to see her father every other day. So everything becomes this easy if she bends just a little, she thought in wonder, satisfied with her choice.

Her belly grew larger by the day. She had felt the baby’s movements for three months already. When the child squirmed or kicked inside her, she would smile even if the tightness hurt.

Sometimes she took the man’s hand and placed it on her belly, letting him feel the movement too. Seeing what seemed like a faint trace of paternal affection at the tips of his lowered lashes made her heart feel fuller.

Her due date drew closer and closer.

Leaning back in a long chair, Hill gently stroked the belly that had grown so large it made moving difficult. The palace midwife said the baby would come out early next month.

The movements had lessened somewhat lately, which worried her a little, but the midwife assured her that such things happened, so she decided not to fret.

After all, despite having endured dozens of rough couplings since becoming pregnant, the fetus had grown healthy without incident. She was careful with both her diet and her actions, surely nothing would go wrong.

Please be born healthy, my beautiful baby.

Just imagining the tiny life wriggling red fingers and toes, searching for milk, filled her heart with joy. With a blissful expression, Hill caressed her belly.

And then, only a few days later, one night—

As she was preparing for bed, Hill clutched her belly and collapsed.

Labor had begun early, without warning.

“Yes, this is far too early!”

The midwife rushed in and began directing preparations. Hill followed her instructions, drenched in cold sweat, swallowing back her screams.

Unlike everything she’d been told, the contractions were short from the very start. The pain felt like her belly was being torn apart; she thought she might lose her mind.

Is it because the baby has giant blood?

Yes… maybe that’s it. If the blood is special, perhaps birth itself is more painful.

But if it’s for her baby, this much pain…

Compared to the suffering that had caused others to die because of her, enduring pain herself like this almost felt welcome. Clutching her belly, Hill struggled to stay conscious.

Amniotic fluid and blood streamed down. The pain intensified, as though enormous iron claws were scraping out her insides. At some point, she began writhing and screaming uncontrollably.

The man appeared like a mirage, gripping her hand and whispering, It’s all right. Everything will be fine. Stay strong. Sometimes she nodded fervently as if clinging to a lifeline.

Other times she shook her head violently in denial. The pain was so overwhelming that her awareness faded in and out. It felt as though every blood vessel in her abdomen was being torn apart.

How many hours passed as she fought that agony?

Then she felt something catch at the burning, aching opening below.

“I can see the head!”

The old midwife shouted sharply. Hill’s pain-blurred consciousness snapped awake.

Encouragement to push just a little more reached her ears in shards, like broken glass. Still writhing in agony, Hill gathered her strength and pushed the child out.

Baby. My baby. My beloved baby.

When you finally come into the world and we meet for the first time, when our eyes meet—how overwhelming that moment will be…