Jeremy pressed for an answer until the end, but Hyacinth remained silent. She couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.

She had already told the truth.

It was those fools who didn’t believe it. She wanted to use stronger words, but she held back for the sake of the baby in her womb.

‘Madam, you are mistaken.’
‘……’
‘If you had just told us the father’s name, His Highness would have shown leniency.’
‘Tell him to look in the mirror.’
‘Madam!’

Who should she name?

Choosing any random man would only cause trouble for them. They seemed to think she was protecting a non-existent lover.

Hyacinth grew tired of everything and dismissed him with a short, strong order. Jeremy left with a frustrated expression.

You’re frustrated. My heart feels like it’s going to burst.

Hyacinth buried herself in the sofa and angrily kicked off her slippers. She wanted to throw, break, and completely destroy something.

Why am I the only one breaking down? I didn’t commit any of the things they claim, so why am I the only one suffering and crying? Why. Why. Why!

But the real hardship began after Jeremy left the castle.

A treacherous woman who betrayed her master. A wicked woman who dared to hold the position of mistress and insist on her innocence. The head maid, who had solidified her misunderstanding, did not tolerate Hyacinth.

Once the silent one started to speak, rumors spread quickly.

In less than a day, most people in Bremlin suspected Hyacinth of infidelity.

‘How could she…’
‘Really, she’s so shameless it’s unbearable!’
‘Do we have to serve such a woman? Why! No matter how royal she is, she crossed the line! Are they asking the North to embrace someone who betrayed the North?’
‘I won’t serve her.’

The head maid did not bother to stop the chattering maids. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and silently encouraged them. Hostility accumulated into a blade. People began to think it would be better for the baby to die in the womb rather than help raise a child whose father they didn’t know. They all agreed it was better that way.

The one who stopped the rising tide of anger was the butler.

‘Don’t act so emotionally.’
‘How can you say that, Butler?’
‘Exactly! She betrayed His Highness the Duke! You should be furious too—!’
‘The Duchess is a direct member of the royal family. Not a branch, but direct, and His Majesty the King cherishes her dearly. If the King’s anger turns towards the North, it will only harm us. Get a grip.’
‘But still…!’

People were furious, saying that she lived her life doing whatever she wanted just because she was born into the right family. Some were annoyed, saying that if she lived such an enviable life, she should have lived it properly.

Still, they had to agree with the butler.

Fortunately, Hyacinth avoided starvation, and the child in her womb escaped the threat of miscarriage.

…That was all.

Really, that was all.

No matter how much Hyacinth insisted on her innocence, people believed what they wanted and treated her coldly. Despite knowing she couldn’t eat eggs due to morning sickness, egg dishes were served every morning. Hyacinth had to swallow her nausea and try her best to eat.

Every time she went outside, whispers followed her. Someone even threw a stone in front of her and quickly disappeared. They didn’t throw it directly at her, but the intention was clear as the stone landed at her feet.

Fall.

Fall and…

Each time, Hyacinth wrapped her arms around her belly and gritted her teeth. The whole world was her enemy. In this winter with no allies, she had to survive somehow.

Unable to bear it, she wrote a letter to Tyche asking for help.

But the paper was immediately seized by the head maid and torn to shreds.

‘You should have been prepared for this when you did such a thing.’

Hyacinth could only tremble in anger at the mocking face. If she could, she would have grabbed the woman by the hair, but she was pregnant.

The child must not be miscarried.

It wasn’t out of maternal love. The thought of the child being the blood of the man who had cruelly broken her made her furious.

But at the same time, this child must not be miscarried.

Be born safely. And please, please, don’t resemble me but your father. Hyacinth prayed with her hands clasped.

The child was the only strong and undeniable proof of her innocence.

Live.

I will somehow survive, so you must live too. This is not a request but a command. Every night, she wrapped her belly tightly and gritted her teeth.

As winter deepened and the child grew, Hyacinth’s movements became more difficult. And there was no one by her side.

No one.

Even when the harsh cold wind blew, freezing her feet, even when she wanted to curl up to endure the cold but suppressed the instinct for the child, there was no one.

People only jeered and cursed her from outside her room.

Some even cursed that the child was as tough and tenacious as its mother. They seemed to hope Hyacinth would hear, raising their voices deliberately.

At first, Hyacinth cried tears of anger and frustration, but at some point, she gave up. It took energy to proclaim her innocence, and she had none left.

Like her cousin’s warning, she was withering away.

No. I must not die. I must live.

She couldn’t let her family hear that she died after committing infidelity. The truth had to come out before she could die or live.

Hyacinth spent most of her days lying or sitting in a daze. Sometimes the pain and misery felt real, and other times they felt surreal.

Just a year ago, she was happily laughing and making bets with her family. Betting on when the first snow would fall, a yearly tradition that Arthur always won. She shouldn’t have ignored her brother’s instincts and judgments.

But she ignored them and ended up like this…

Yes, it’s my fault. Hyacinth thought as she looked at her bleak and surreal situation. Yes. It was her fault. It would have been better to be a supporting character in a tragedy than the protagonist. Why did she think wrong? Why did she…

And she felt the pain keenly as she ate the hard, ugly bread and drank milk with ice in it. Such sensations were always real.

The child must not die. Hyacinth thought desperately.

Even if I die, the child must not.

Ah. If I die, the child dies too… I must live too.

In a half-dazed state, she almost slipped and fell while bathing. She protected her belly desperately, resulting in a twisted arm.

It seemed broken, but Hyacinth gritted her teeth and endured the pain.

A doctor wouldn’t come unless she was in labor. Bremlin wouldn’t show her the minimum courtesy or humane treatment. At least not to her. Not to the mistress suspected of infidelity.

So Hyacinth sighed as she looked at her twisted arm. She might have to eat with her hands from tomorrow since holding a fork would be difficult. She wondered how she had fallen so low, but then she gave up thinking about it.

And sometimes.

Very occasionally… she thought of the man who had ruined her.

People were truly fickle. She hated him so much she could never forgive him, but if he came back now and saved her, she felt she could forgive him. At least he wouldn’t treat a pregnant woman like this…

No. It’s all his fault.

Did I want to get pregnant? He touched me and got me pregnant, then forgot, ignored, and abandoned me…

But please…

Please, come back.

Even now, please come back and save me. She was terrified of her twisted arm and her freezing fingertips and toes. Her body was falling apart, but the child was growing well. It seemed to thrive on her misery.

Sometimes it was repulsive,

Sometimes it was a relief. And one night, when the snow fell for the tenth or twentieth time, Hyacinth realized.

The only one protecting her in this miserable time was the child.

“You’re better than your father.”

At her joking words, the baby moved quietly in her belly. A soft movement like a song. A clear comfort.

Come to think of it, some babies were so active they kicked their mother’s belly, but her baby never did. She worried and was grateful at the same time, so Hyacinth placed her hand on her belly for a long time.

And she apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry for hating you. I’m sorry for expecting too much from you.

You don’t have to resemble your father.

If you resemble me, Tyche will love you… so when spring comes, let’s go to the flower garden together. I’ll show you a beautiful rainbow and love you enough for your father’s share too.

…I’m sorry.

So don’t leave me and stay alive. Stay by my side.

I beg you.

It was probably as cold as any other night, but for a moment, Hyacinth forgot the pain. It was just a fleeting moment… but it was a clear miracle.

* * *