Chapter 93: Labor Has Begun

Damian instinctively reached out his hand—fingers grazing the empty air, as if trying to grasp something just out of reach.

“…Then, I’ll be going.”

Edelweiss didn’t look back. She gathered the documents and walked out of the drawing room.

Clunk.

The sound of the door closing echoed, cutting through the heavy humidity that clung to the air. And yet, a chill seemed to linger in the place she had just been.

Damian stood there, blankly staring at the door.

In the lobby hall—through the narrow gap of the door—he had seen those green eyes.

Like the deep color of a lush forest, they were clear as dew-covered leaves, and sparkled like sunlight dancing on a quiet lake.

‘Your Highness, good morning.’

The smile, the dimples, the way she had once greeted him with joy.

‘Hello. You look like you’re in a good mood.’

Her soft voice as she strolled through the garden outside the office window, coaxing a lark onto her hand.

‘Can you see the moon, Your Highness?’

That small, slender figure sitting at the window under the moonlight—

Edelweiss came to life again in his mind, each memory painting her like a timeless, vintage portrait.

That’s why this time, too—he thought it was another illusion.

And when he realized it was truly her, he’d been so startled that the first words out of his mouth had been: Why are you here?

He’d even feared the envelope in her hands might contain divorce papers.

That wasn’t it—

And knowing that, everything else stopped mattering.

He had signed the guardianship form not because he cared about the issue of Blossomweaver or thought her permission was necessary. He simply believed it was what she needed right now.

Had he known she would leave the moment it was over, he would’ve delayed.

That’s why he’d pretended he had something important to say—to keep her there longer.

He’d planned to ask if she would keep living at the Blossomweaver estate, or when she’d return.

But then—

“Are you that concerned about Matiel?”

As if that wasn’t enough, she asked for a divorce once the baby was born.

Saying Ruer Palace was warm in winter, she’d only send the child then.

It meant she’d be sending their child alone.

She had already made the decision. Alone.

And when she’d mentioned Princess Charlotte’s death, saying she wished the child wouldn’t grow up the same way, her eyes had looked so full of sorrow.

He couldn’t bring himself to speak.

Damian rubbed the wedding ring on his left ring finger, trying to press down the frantic pounding of his heart.

Then he walked to the bedroom, where the scent of Edelweiss still lingered.

As he stepped inside, a suffocating silence clung to him. He sat at the edge of the bed and slowly lay back.

He couldn’t sleep without her.

It was an insomnia he’d had since childhood, but after sharing a bed with Edelweiss, he’d been able to get some proper rest—even if only briefly.

Now, he could no longer feel the warmth she had left behind.

He threw his arm over his tired eyes.

“…Divorce, she says.”

The words slipped out like a hollow whisper and filled the room.

He had thought she was simply angry and staying at Blossomweaver out of spite.

He assumed she’d come back eventually.

What if I lose Edelweiss too?

She’s the only one I have left…

Even though he now believed she had been innocent all along, that no longer mattered.

Whether the child was his or not—

as long as she was by his side.

***

Without Edelweiss, time passed without meaning.

Autumn came, painting the gardens in red and yellow waves,

but in Damian’s eyes, the world was all gray.

The wind had turned cool,

and indifferent clouds drifted across the sky.

In the empty garden, a few fallen leaves rustled.

The bare trees braced silently for winter.

Then—cutting through the stillness—

came the sound of someone breathing.

Short, ragged, and desperate.

Damian immediately turned his head.

And—

“…Da… Damian…”

Fingers trembling violently.

Lips pale and dry.

The bed sheets were soaked in dark blood.

Edelweiss lay there, clutching her round belly.

“Please… save the baby…”

Her breath came in broken gasps, barely strung together.

The hand wrapped around her belly had begun to curl inward.

Her fading eyes were losing their light.

Sweat beaded on her fevered forehead.

Her hair, drenched in sweat, clung to her pale cheeks.

Damian stood frozen.

He opened his mouth,

but no sound came out.

He reached for her,

but his hand couldn’t touch her—

as if a transparent wall blocked the way.

“Please… love our… child…”

“Edelweiss!”

He cried out desperately—

But she closed her eyes,

as if she hadn’t heard.

Her thin chest rose—slowly—

and then—stilled.

The world turned black and white.

Even the ticking clock,

even the wind—

all stopped.

“…!”

Damian gasped awake.

His whole body was soaked in sweat,

his forehead drenched.

His heart pounded erratically.

He struggled to breathe—

his lungs tightened,

cutting off his air.

He frantically patted the empty space beside him, then scrambled out of bed and rushed into the corridor.

“Where is Edelweiss right now?”

Spotting a passing servant, he grabbed the man and barked the question.

“Her Highness is… at Blossomweaver Manor, Your Highness.”

The servant trembled, eyes wide at the sudden interrogation.

“…Is she alive?”

“Y-Your Highness?”

Only then did Damian realize it had been a dream.

Slowly he covered his face with both hands. The shaken servant bowed and hurried away. Sweat dampened Damian’s palms.

D*mn it—this time the dream had shown her dying in childbirth. Last time she’d fallen from a balcony; now the boundary between dream and reality felt paper-thin. Even knowing it was only a nightmare, he could still smell the iron tang of blood in the sheets, still see the chalk-white face fixed in his mind.

Even strong sleeping draughts left him waking after only a short doze, but he no longer dared sleep—better to stay awake than watch Edelweiss die again and again.

He washed quickly, then headed for his study. Halfway down the staircase a sharp headache stabbed behind his eyes, forcing him to clench his teeth and steady himself on the banister.

Boom—!

The front doors burst open.

“Your Highness—!”

It was one of Edelweiss’s maids—the same girl who’d accompanied her to Blossomweaver. Hair disheveled, chest heaving, she raced toward him, panic flashing in her eyes.

“Her Highness’s labor has begun!”

“…What?”

It made no sense: it was only autumn. The baby wasn’t due until winter; there should have been weeks left.

“Sh-She twisted her ankle while walking in the garden and fell, Your Highness—hit her side badly. At dawn she started bleeding and the pains began…”

The maid’s voice sounded as if it came from underwater.

His legs felt sucked into a deep bog; his vision blurred as the image of Edelweiss dying in childbirth burned in his brain.

“Your Highness, you must come at once. The delivery is far too early, and Her Highness is weak from giving Princess Charlotte so many blue roses. The palace physician says… she may not survive…”

The times he’d urged her to produce those roses.

Her trembling lips begging him to save the baby and love it.

The slow, final silence of her breathing.

Death kept replaying, trapping Damian in its undertow.