Akan smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting in amusement. The reason for Robellia’s desperation to see a doctor was obvious. She was plagued by the nagging fear that she might be pregnant, and the uncertainty was eating away at her day by day. Whether she confirmed it or not wouldn’t change the reality of her situation, but her foolishness – her desire for even the illusion of control – was so characteristic of Robellia.

“Is that all? If you put it in your stomach, I might consider it.”

Robellia’s eyes widened in shock. It had taken all her courage to hold the blade to her throat and now he was telling her to stab herself in the stomach? Was that even possible? Her eyes fell to the knife in her hand, its blade stained with a faint trace of blood. If she plunged it into her stomach, there would surely be much more blood. The thought of the excruciating pain brought tears to her eyes.

But she couldn’t bear another day like this. Pulling herself together, Robellia turned the knife towards her belly. Uncertain where the womb might be, she placed the blade closer to her upper abdomen. When her trembling hand hesitated, Akan reached out and covered it with his own.

“Do you need help?”

There was no trace of pity in his amethyst eyes. If she nodded, he would undoubtedly plunge the knife into her stomach without hesitation. Her strength gave way and the knife slipped from her hand, clattering to the carpet. The tears she had been holding back spilled over, streaming down her face as she collapsed to the floor.

“Please… please, just call a doctor. I’ll do anything, anything you want.”

“You already have do everything I say.”

At Akan’s cold response, Robellia finally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Even as tears streamed down her face, she clung desperately to his legs, afraid he would leave. When he tried to shake her off, she crawled to the ground and refused to let go. It was uncharacteristic behaviour for the weak and passive Robellia.

Akan, irritated but intrigued, wondered why women seemed to lose all reason when it came to pregnancy. He knelt down to meet her tearful gaze.

“I’ll call the doctor.”

Robellia raised her head and stared at him in disbelief. She couldn’t understand why Akan would agree to her request so easily. He was always impossible to read, but now his intentions seemed even more inscrutable. One thing was certain: he wasn’t doing this for her. Whatever he was planning, it was bound to be something terrible. Still, she couldn’t let this chance pass her by. Weakly, she nodded.

After sending someone to fetch the doctor, Akan guided Robellia back to the bed and laid her down. The guards left the room and the remaining servants began to clean up the mess in silence.

The doctor summoned to the room was the same elderly one who had occasionally examined Robellia in the past. His expression hardened as he took in her completely deteriorated condition. Akan, standing by the bed, approached the doctor and whispered in his ear. With a stiff nod, the doctor turned to Robellia, his face grim.

“May I lift your clothes for a moment? I need to examine your abdomen.”

Robellia adjusted her position and pulled up her nightgown, covering her bare lower body with the blanket, leaving her stomach exposed.

The doctor’s breath caught as he took in the ghastly bruises and scars that covered her body. He carefully palpated her abdomen and sides, then hesitated before pulling the gown higher to inspect her chest. After a thorough examination down to her armpits, he straightened up with a conflicted expression.

“I need to examine internally…”

The doctor looked nervously at Akan, who made no move to leave the room. The Emperor had no intention of leaving, and the doctor knew it. Even if he had not been directly involved in the chaos of the rebellion, the doctor was well aware of the grim realities within the palace. Still, he hadn’t expected to find himself in the middle of something like this.

Unlike the reluctant doctor, Robellia complied without resistance. She lowered the blanket, bent her knees and spread her legs. Compared to the countless horrors she had endured, the doctor’s hands on her were nothing.

The doctor carefully palpated various parts of her abdomen before withdrawing his hand. Instead of making a diagnosis, he silently began to apply ointment to the wounds on her neck and hands. The lack of explanation only increased Robellia’s anxiety.

“Am I…?”

The doctor hesitated, his face conflicted, but before he could speak, Akan’s piercing gaze cut through the tension. He grabbed the doctor by the arm and led him out of the room. Left behind, Robellia sat in growing fear, helpless to do anything but wait.

After what seemed an eternity, Akan returned with the doctor in tow. The doctor was visibly sweating and avoided Robellia’s gaze as Akan, not bothering to hide his amusement, spoke first.

“You are pregnant. Congratulations, Robellia.”

Akan’s voice carried an almost mocking glee, his expression one of perverse satisfaction. Robellia stared at him, sinking into despair as his words sank in. Pregnant. She looked down at her belly, still flat and showing no signs of life, but now carrying a child.

A child whose father she couldn’t even identify. A child condemned to carry the burden of her sins from the moment it was born. Robellia’s trembling hands pressed against her belly.

‘No. This can’t be. I can’t… I don’t want this.’

Akan left Robellia to her own devices and dismissed the doctor. Robellia had no idea what to do next. She had heard of drugs that could terminate an unwanted pregnancy, but she knew Akan would never give her access to anything like that. Besides, what would be the point of terminating this pregnancy? In this life, it would only happen again and again.

He had killed Akan’s family, watched her own family perish, and now this new life was caught in the cycle. What reason was there to survive, to kill again and again? Robellia knew only too well that she was the cause of this endless misery.

Akan stood silently and watched her. Robellia stared blankly into space, her expression hollow. He had expected her to scream and wail like a b*ast, but her reaction was disappointingly dull. Still, there was some amusement in knowing that he wouldn’t have to beat her or force himself on her anymore – watching her torment herself for the next few months would be entertainment enough.

As Akan moved towards the door, Robellia stirred as if waking from a dream. She rose unsteadily from the bed and staggered after him. Ignoring her completely, Akan reached for the door handle. Even if Robellia tried to attack him from behind with a candlestick, he felt no fear. He could overpower her with one hand and he knew she wouldn’t dare.

“Akan.”

Akan turned at Robellia’s call. She was standing at the window, wide open behind her.

The window was never locked during the entire time she was trapped there, as if mocking her with the illusion of an escape route. Robellia felt guilty for the child she was carrying. She should have died long ago. Then none of this would have happened.

A cold wind blew into the room and ruffled Robellia’s hair. She looked at Akan standing in the doorway and smiled. Her amethyst eyes glistened with tears.

“I forgive you.”

Robellia’s words hit Akan like a bolt of lightning, rooting him to the spot. Without a moment’s hesitation, she jumped out of the window. A heavy thud echoed in Akan’s ears, the unmistakable sound of something crashing to the ground below.

Akan blinked. Robellia was no longer in the room. The open window let in a torrent of cold wind, causing the curtains to billow violently.

‘Who does she think she is to forgive me? On what grounds?’

Akan walked over to the open window. He looked at the overcast sky for a moment before lowering his eyes. There, in the flower bed below, lay Robellia, dressed in her white nightgown. Her arms and legs stretched limply as she faced the sky, her eyes closed tightly. Her expression was one of true peace.

Startled servants rushed outside the palace, their cries filling the air. But Akan’s gaze remained fixed on Robellia. The noise below and the movement behind him were insignificant.

The m*n who had entered the room quickly understood the situation, their eyes darting between the open window and the missing princess. None of them dared speak as they stood frozen in silence. One by one, they quietly left the room, leaving Akan alone at the window.

In the silence that followed, Akan stared at Robellia’s lifeless form for a long time. A humble death, chosen by her own will. Was this the last stop on the road to revenge?

Robellia’s last words remained unanswered on the tip of Akan’s tongue.

‘Robellia.’

‘I…’

**<Continued in Volume 2>**