try begging

"Still, it's really good for you. You liked my appearance. Let's hope my personality doesn't resemble yours at least."

It's not my job! I'm leaving this place. I'm leaving all my past behind. Of course, there's you and your child there too.

I wanted to shout, but no voice came out.

"By the way, the cradle fits the torture chamber better than I thought."

Torture chamber? Startled by the words, Grace finally took her eyes off the man and looked around. The black ceiling, the black walls, the gaping shackles and handcuffs, the iron table with sharp edges that caught the light.

'How did this happen?'

Grace was in the torture chamber.

Grace, who tried to move her hands and feet, sighed at the cruelly familiar noise and weight. She was tied to a single bed in the torture chamber, with shackles and chains wrapped around her limbs.

"When on earth... . Let me go now! Let me go! Okay? Please!"

In the end, even though he begged, the man only looked at the baby who wouldn't stop crying and didn't even look at Grace.

"That's different from what you promised! You said you wouldn't lock me up anymore?"

"That promise was only valid if you returned obediently."

"When did you say that?"

Go to hell! You vile... .

"Dog... son of a bitch... . Gasp!"

Grace's eyes shot open. The moment the palm tree wallpaper on the ceiling came into view, she let out a sigh of relief. This was an apartment. Not a torture chamber.

Even after confirming that, I looked around the room with anxious eyes. Fortunately, or perhaps naturally, the man was nowhere to be seen. Even after confirming that it was safe, it took a long time for me to calm my breathing, which was still cold to the tip of my chin.

"Even in my dreams, that son of a bitch... ."

The nightmare was so bad that her pajamas were damp. Grace brushed her hair away from her forehead, where it was sticky with sweat, and lowered her gaze to her feet.

The baby's crib was still filled with crying. Grace slowly got up, staring blankly at the crib, where the baby was completely invisible because of the white sheet wrapped around the edges. Just after giving birth last night, her whole body felt as if it had been hit, but after a deep sleep, she felt much lighter.

She walked over to the bed, looked inside and asked.

"what's the matter?"

The child must have had a hard time, because he slept like the dead all night, but now he seemed to have regained his energy and was kicking his feet hard and crying loudly. I checked his diaper, but it wasn't wet.

'It's time to get hungry.'

Grace went to the kitchen and brought back a little formula milk in a bottle. She took the crying baby out of the crib and went to the armchair in front of the window. Instead of holding the baby, she laid him on her lap and lifted his head slightly to give him the bottle.

"No... why? What's the problem?"

Even when offered a bottle, the baby spat out the nipple and did not suck. Perhaps because he was starving, he was so irritable that he kicked and waved his hands, crying until his face turned bright red.

"Okay, sorry for being late. Stop complaining and just eat, okay?"

I thought she would stop crying and drink, so I took the bottle away and held her to comfort her, but it didn't help. After struggling for a while, she tried something she really didn't want to do with a feeling of resignation.

"Ha... you're really funny."

Grace looked down at the baby who had become calm as soon as he bit the tip of her chest and let out a sigh of relief.

"It's not even coming out...."

Last night, I felt the midwife's presence and forced the baby to breastfeed. However, the milk supply was almost nonexistent and the feeling of breastfeeding was not very good. So, we decided to make some formula milk for both of us...

"It's already tricky."

Behind her, she could hear the faint sound of waves, and in her arms, the sound of her tiny lips sucking hard continued. Grace, who had been observing the baby, let out a long sigh.

"Why is it so small?"

The baby was so small and light compared to the weight that had been weighing her down in her stomach.

Grace held the tiny life that was sucking my breast as if it was clinging to me a little more affectionately.

"What crime have you committed?"

It is not a sin to be born. Birth always occurs by another's will.

If there is any blame, it will be on the man who created this child for selfish purposes, on me who was caught participating in the crime in the first place, and on those who tricked her into participating in the crime.

So Grace's distance from this child was not because she hated him. It was because she felt sorry. She had already come to understand most of the agony and conflict contained in her mother's diary.

"What should I do with you...?"

She hasn't decided what to do with the child yet, as she's so focused on giving birth safely without being caught by that man.

Just give it away somewhere. It seemed easy, but it wasn't.

I wanted to atone for my sins by guaranteeing this child a bright and normal future, as if that was the only way I could do it. But the problem was that I didn't know which path to take to get that kind of future.

There are only three paths: send him to the man, give him to an orphanage, or adopt him into a suitable home yourself.

I was still not sure about giving it to the man. It was a child created solely to tie her down. I was worried about how the man would treat a child who couldn't do his job.

Sending her to an orphanage was the easiest option for her, but it could be dangerous for the child.

When I stroked the soft cheek with my fingertips, the child opened his eyes.

Dark blue.

Grace sighed as she checked the child's eye color again. She had read in her mother's diary that her child's eyes were like this when she was born. That meant that the child's eyes could also turn blue-green like mine.

What if Blanchard's remnants still had their hands on the orphanage, and this child fell into their hands? The mere thought was terrifying.

They would know just by looking at the eyes that this child was hers and Winston's. They could use the child to get revenge on the man or to negotiate with the royalists.

Moreover, it was a girl and not a boy. I couldn't let this child suffer the same fate as me.

"What should I do with you? Huh? Tell me. Where do you want to go?"

Grace asked the baby absentmindedly, who was staring at her with unfocused eyes. The baby was so light, but the worry weighing on her chest was so heavy.

"Yeah, what would you know?"

Grace was the only one who knew the wise answer.

I personally find someone who will be a good parent.

Even if the child's eyes turn blue-green, it would be difficult for either the man or the rebels to find the child hidden in one of the many homes in this kingdom. And the child would be able to live a normal, loving life in a normal home, never knowing the truth that he was the product of hatred and schemes.

maybe.

At least it's better than the other way around.

Grace repeated the same words to the child in her arms.

"This is the best."

The man in Grace's head scolded her as she tried to persuade someone.

"You already know my plan."

Shut up. You should be miserable.

º º º

A corpse lay on the cold metal table. The entire body was covered with a white cloth, so it was not visible, but judging by the body shape and vague outline, it was clearly a woman.

The men surrounding the body were all silent, but a man who appeared to be a mortuary employee broke the uncomfortable silence.

"This is the mother who died of puerperal fever this afternoon. She came to the hospital alone, without her husband or family, and her description matched the description on the missing person flyer, so I'm contacting you..."

The staff member trailed off as he explained. Another uncomfortable silence followed. Leon glanced at the body wrapped in white cloth, then raised his head and twisted his mouth. The mortuary staff and Campbell all had gloomy expressions. It was as if they were doctors who had come to give him a terminal diagnosis.

Why do you have that kind of face before I even see you?

º º º

He snorted and nodded to the employee. It was an order to remove the cloth covering his face, but the employee hesitated and glanced at him. His eyes were filled with pity.

"Why are you looking at me like that? The woman under the sheet is...."

It can't be my woman. The moment Leon, whose patience ran out, pulled back the cloth himself, the terminal sentence became a death sentence.

"...Grace."

The moment he saw with his own eyes that Grace's life was over, his life was over too.

This is ridiculous.

The reason why the blue-green eyes were so cloudy was because the light of life had completely gone out. Even though he knew it, he couldn't believe it, and couldn't take his eyes off the face that was so pale that it was almost blue, and Campbell disappeared outside with his staff.

Leon, who had been frozen for a long time even after being left alone, suddenly smiled faintly. 

"Still, it's really good for you. You liked my appearance. Let's hope my personality doesn't resemble yours at least."

It's not my job! I'm leaving this place. I'm leaving all my past behind. Of course, there's you and your child there too.

I wanted to shout, but no voice came out.

"By the way, the cradle fits the torture chamber better than I thought."

Torture chamber? Startled by the words, Grace finally took her eyes off the man and looked around. The black ceiling, the black walls, the gaping shackles and handcuffs, the iron table with sharp edges that caught the light.

'How did this happen?'

Grace was in the torture chamber.

Grace, who tried to move her hands and feet, sighed at the cruelly familiar noise and weight. She was tied to a single bed in the torture chamber, with shackles and chains wrapped around her limbs.

"When on earth... . Let me go now! Let me go! Okay? Please!"

In the end, even though he begged, the man only looked at the baby who wouldn't stop crying and didn't even look at Grace.

"That's different from what you promised! You said you wouldn't lock me up anymore?"

"That promise was only valid if you returned obediently."

"When did you say that?"

Go to hell! You vile... .

"Dog... son of a bitch... . Gasp!"

Grace's eyes shot open. The moment the palm tree wallpaper on the ceiling came into view, she let out a sigh of relief. This was an apartment. Not a torture chamber.

Even after confirming that, I looked around the room with anxious eyes. Fortunately, or perhaps naturally, the man was nowhere to be seen. Even after confirming that it was safe, it took a long time for me to calm my breathing, which was still cold to the tip of my chin.

"Even in my dreams, that son of a bitch... ."

The nightmare was so bad that her pajamas were damp. Grace brushed her hair away from her forehead, where it was sticky with sweat, and lowered her gaze to her feet.

The baby's crib was still filled with crying. Grace slowly got up, staring blankly at the crib, where the baby was completely invisible because of the white sheet wrapped around the edges. Just after giving birth last night, her whole body felt as if it had been hit, but after a deep sleep, she felt much lighter.

She walked over to the bed, looked inside and asked.

"what's the matter?"

The child must have had a hard time, because he slept like the dead all night, but now he seemed to have regained his energy and was kicking his feet hard and crying loudly. I checked his diaper, but it wasn't wet.

'It's time to get hungry.'

Grace went to the kitchen and brought back a little formula milk in a bottle. She took the crying baby out of the crib and went to the armchair in front of the window. Instead of holding the baby, she laid him on her lap and lifted his head slightly to give him the bottle.

"No... why? What's the problem?"

Even when offered a bottle, the baby spat out the nipple and did not suck. Perhaps because he was starving, he was so irritable that he kicked and waved his hands, crying until his face turned bright red.

"Okay, sorry for being late. Stop complaining and just eat, okay?"

I thought she would stop crying and drink, so I took the bottle away and held her to comfort her, but it didn't help. After struggling for a while, she tried something she really didn't want to do with a feeling of resignation.

"Ha... you're really funny."

Grace looked down at the baby who had become calm as soon as he bit the tip of her chest and let out a sigh of relief.

"It's not even coming out...."

Last night, I felt the midwife's presence and forced the baby to breastfeed. However, the milk supply was almost nonexistent and the feeling of breastfeeding was not very good. So, we decided to make some formula milk for both of us...

"It's already tricky."

Behind her, she could hear the faint sound of waves, and in her arms, the sound of her tiny lips sucking hard continued. Grace, who had been observing the baby, let out a long sigh.

"Why is it so small?"

The baby was so small and light compared to the weight that had been weighing her down in her stomach.

Grace held the tiny life that was sucking my breast as if it was clinging to me a little more affectionately.

"What crime have you committed?"

It is not a sin to be born. Birth always occurs by another's will.

If there is any blame, it will be on the man who created this child for selfish purposes, on me who was caught participating in the crime in the first place, and on those who tricked her into participating in the crime.

So Grace's distance from this child was not because she hated him. It was because she felt sorry. She had already come to understand most of the agony and conflict contained in her mother's diary.

"What should I do with you...?"

She hasn't decided what to do with the child yet, as she's so focused on giving birth safely without being caught by that man.

Just give it away somewhere. It seemed easy, but it wasn't.

I wanted to atone for my sins by guaranteeing this child a bright and normal future, as if that was the only way I could do it. But the problem was that I didn't know which path to take to get that kind of future.

There are only three paths: send him to the man, give him to an orphanage, or adopt him into a suitable home yourself.

I was still not sure about giving it to the man. It was a child created solely to tie her down. I was worried about how the man would treat a child who couldn't do his job.

Sending her to an orphanage was the easiest option for her, but it could be dangerous for the child.

When I stroked the soft cheek with my fingertips, the child opened his eyes.

Dark blue.

Grace sighed as she checked the child's eye color again. She had read in her mother's diary that her child's eyes were like this when she was born. That meant that the child's eyes could also turn blue-green like mine.

What if Blanchard's remnants still had their hands on the orphanage, and this child fell into their hands? The mere thought was terrifying.

They would know just by looking at the eyes that this child was hers and Winston's. They could use the child to get revenge on the man or to negotiate with the royalists.

Moreover, it was a girl and not a boy. I couldn't let this child suffer the same fate as me.

"What should I do with you? Huh? Tell me. Where do you want to go?"

Grace asked the baby absentmindedly, who was staring at her with unfocused eyes. The baby was so light, but the worry weighing on her chest was so heavy.

"Yeah, what would you know?"

Grace was the only one who knew the wise answer.

I personally find someone who will be a good parent.

Even if the child's eyes turn blue-green, it would be difficult for either the man or the rebels to find the child hidden in one of the many homes in this kingdom. And the child would be able to live a normal, loving life in a normal home, never knowing the truth that he was the product of hatred and schemes.

maybe.

At least it's better than the other way around.

Grace repeated the same words to the child in her arms.

"This is the best."

The man in Grace's head scolded her as she tried to persuade someone.

"You already know my plan."

Shut up. You should be miserable.

º º º

A corpse lay on the cold metal table. The entire body was covered with a white cloth, so it was not visible, but judging by the body shape and vague outline, it was clearly a woman.

The men surrounding the body were all silent, but a man who appeared to be a mortuary employee broke the uncomfortable silence.

"This is the mother who died of puerperal fever this afternoon. She came to the hospital alone, without her husband or family, and her description matched the description on the missing person flyer, so I'm contacting you..."

The staff member trailed off as he explained. Another uncomfortable silence followed. Leon glanced at the body wrapped in white cloth, then raised his head and twisted his mouth. The mortuary staff and Campbell all had gloomy expressions. It was as if they were doctors who had come to give him a terminal diagnosis.

Why do you have that kind of face before I even see you?

º º º

He snorted and nodded to the employee. It was an order to remove the cloth covering his face, but the employee hesitated and glanced at him. His eyes were filled with pity.

"Why are you looking at me like that? The woman under the sheet is...."

It can't be my woman. The moment Leon, whose patience ran out, pulled back the cloth himself, the terminal sentence became a death sentence.

"...Grace."

The moment he saw with his own eyes that Grace's life was over, his life was over too.

This is ridiculous.

The reason why the blue-green eyes were so cloudy was because the light of life had completely gone out. Even though he knew it, he couldn't believe it, and couldn't take his eyes off the face that was so pale that it was almost blue, and Campbell disappeared outside with his staff.

Leon, who had been frozen for a long time even after being left alone, suddenly smiled faintly.