Chapter 9: When You Come To Love The Fragile Thing In Your Embrace (Part 6)

Bieren asked Lizbeth pleadingly, though he should have known better by now, when he’d stared into her sleeping face from afar, that he was drawn to her. He should have realized when, while stroking her hair as she slept, and kissed the end of it, even though he had no business doing so. He should have known when, despite naming her as a mere chambermaid for his lustful desires, he saw himself caring for her by wiping between her legs with a cloth. Bieren realized too late that all those moments were love.

“What can I do to win you back?”

Lizbeth couldn’t believe her eyes as she looked at the man’s broken face. It had always been her place to beg and plead, but the arrogant man who wanted to be her world had stepped forward and knelt before her. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched the huge man knelt, his imposing figure crumbling and gently tugging at her hand.

“Tell me.”

Here he was, kneeling in the sunset-covered field of mallow, asking her to ask for anything. Bieren, who had treated Lizbeth as the most precious in the world yet had made her feel the most wretched, had made himself the lowest of the low.

“If you want to be the lowest of the low, I’ll crawl on all fours right now and kiss your shoes.”

If Lizbeth said she wouldn’t leave, he could offer anything. He would give anything if she would just stay by his side. No, even if she treated him as the most debauched asshole in the world, he would accept it.

“Treat me as I have treated thee, as some lowly, lascivious whore.”

He always accused her of lasciviousness, as if he were blaming her for stirring up waves in his life, which had been like a calm sleep. He was always calling her lascivious, but it was all his own lasciviousness. He was the one who looked at her that way. So it was he, not Lizbeth, who deserved to be treated like a whore. 

“Since I will serve you as the lowliest of the most wretched harlot, will you not allow me by your side?”

Bieren wanted any treatment, as long as he could be by her side. Despite Lizbeth’s honest affection, his heart was too corrupt and stubborn. If she allowed him by her side, he’ll live believing in her, as if she were his religion.

“I won’t dare to confine you. You can go wherever you want. If you want to confine me, confine me as much as you wish.”

Bieren hoped Lizbeth would treat him with all the disdain she hated. He wanted to receive harlot treatment from her, to be locked in a room all day, waiting for her, feeling and reproaching himself for the life she had lived. Looking at the stiffened Lizbeth, he said,

“Your word is law to me now.”  

He would give anything to make amends with her for failing to recognize what was most precious in life.

Lizbeth couldn’t believe it even as she saw her master kneeling at her feet, begging for love and forgiveness as the reeds faded in the twilight. Yet she wanted to believe in him again. She cursed herself for wanting to trust him again.

“I… I don’t want anything grand like that.”

There was only one thing Lizbeth desired: to spend the rest of her life raising a child who looked like him. She didn’t want anything else. However, as soon as she heard Bieren’s words, her desires surged again, they came rushing back. Despite knowing how badly that man had treated her, she yearned to imagine how happy she would be if he loved her. But she knew she shouldn’t. Lizbeth let go of all the worries that were confusing her amidst the sudden surge of pain. In the distance, she heard the Duke’s carriage approaching, the one Bieren had called for.

“Ah….”

As the sound of the wheels faded, a moan escaped from her lips. She collapsed in a dreadful agony that surged up her spine, causing her vision to blur. Lizbeth fell as if crumbling, and Bieren caught her body immediately.  

“Lizbeth!”

“Ugh, ah….”

She nestled in his arms, her fingers relentlessly crumpling the fine silk of his clothing. She sobbed like a small animal, letting out intermittent gasps. The sensation of being ripped open underneath was clear. A pain like no other shot through her body.

“Ugh, aaah…”

Bieren noticed the water pouring out from between her fallen legs. Her dress was soaked underneath. Bieren, who used to rejoice when water gushed out from below, couldn’t rejoice at all now. This wasn’t arousal fluid but amniotic fluid. Lizbeth clutched her stomach and shivered like a fish out of water.

“Sa… save… save me, please, ah…”

She pleaded for her life, dripping cold sweat and looking precarious as if her life would be extinguished at any moment. Bieren shouted towards the coachman and servants guarding the carriage. 

“Fetch a doctor! Bring a midwife immediately!”

People rushed off in all directions. Bieren held Lizbeth, who was crying as if lamenting her life, tightly. If he let go of her even for a moment, it felt like her life would slip away through his fingers. He felt like he was holding onto the sand.

“No. Lizbeth, no. You can endure this. You can bear it.”

Bieren repeated words that he didn’t know who he was saying them to. He felt like a wretched beast who had foolishly invaded the legs of a heavily pregnant woman. If he had known she was fleeing, he should have brought the carriage immediately.

No, I shouldn’t have let her run away in the first place. How could I have done such a stupid thing, not knowing when the child would come out? 

“Damned fool.”

Bieren cursed himself as he held the fragile figure in his arms. Unlike the times when he could easily manipulate Lizbeth’s frail body, now her emaciated form seemed too fragile for him to bear. Bieren held her thin frame delicately, afraid she might break apart if he held her too tightly.

“We need to move her to the carriage!” 

Eventually, when the physician and midwife arrived, Bieren carried Lizbeth towards the carriage. The physician suggested that it would be better for the husband to wait outside as the sight of blood and gore might be disturbing, adding that many women died in childbirth. But with a determined face, Bieren addressed the physician.

“I’ll hold her, even if she looks like a corpse. Start pulling out the child.” 

The physician was certain that the Duke had finally lost his mind. His sincere eyes were undoubtedly not sane. With no more time to waste, the physician closed the carriage door and attended to Lizbeth’s worn-out dress. By the time the child’s head peeked between her legs, Lizbeth could no longer scream. Her tear-stained face was gaping open as if undergoing torture.

“Lizbeth… Lizbeth…”

Bieren continued to call out to her, kissing her forehead, stroking her hair, desperately wanting to ease her pain. If he could take her pain away for her, he would. If there were demons, he would sell his soul right now.

If giving birth meant torturing another life like this, he would never have pushed his cum inside her. He should have made her live gently. He could have given her a job she wanted, like sewing or teaching etiquette. He could have helped her develop other hobbies… There were countless ways to keep her by his side without crushing and exploiting her.

But he didn’t. He wielded control over Lizbeth recklessly, finding more comfortable ways for him to oppress her. He delighted in reducing her to a state akin to a beast, unable even to don a piece of clothing and on all fours, being able to revel in the power he could wield over her. He treated her carelessly, unaware of the value of what he held in his hands. 

“Ugh, a child…”

A blood-red infant emerged from between Lizbeth’s legs and cried like a lump of clay molded into an ugly shape, born from the exploitation of its mother’s body. Ignoring the midwife who tried to hand him the child, Bieren whispered urgently to Lizbeth.  

“The child is out. Everything will be okay now.”

“The bleeding won’t stop.”

The doctor delivered the dreadful news. The carpet and cushions laid in the carriage were soaked with blood. Lizbeth seemed devoid of any strength to utter a single sound. It was a struggle for her life, pushing out the life from between her legs, she was draining away. Bieren shouted in desperation.

“Get the lancet, quickly! Right now!” 

The doctor froze in front of his determined face. In the almshouses, some people had drawn blood on the sly and sold it for money. However, there had never been an instance of piercing the flesh of a noble to draw blood. Those who had been raised in luxury and authority, ruling over others for their entire lives, had never requested such a thing. Bieren’s voice was like a thunderbolt, rousing the hardened doctor from his stupor. 

“What are you waiting for!”

“I-I’ll do it.”

The doctor stuttered, trembling as he retrieved the lancet. After a few futile attempts, droplets of blood dotted Bieren’s skin but he couldn’t feel the needle poking into him. Finally, when the lancet was inserted and connected to his veins, he felt the stinging pain.

“Lizbeth, it’ll be okay now.”

For the first time, something helpful was leaking out of him and filling her, but the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and it continued to stain the carpet. Bieren wished he could drain all the blood from every orifice in his body and fill her with it. In front of her, who was suffering, even in the position that had wielded power over her, he felt useless and insignificant.

“Duke…….”

“Don’t.”

“Bieren…….”

As if sensing her demise, Lizbeth called out his name, a name she had never dared to utter before. Bieren felt like her calling his name for the first time as her life slipped away was piercing his heart.

“Please… raise the child.”

Lizbeth murmured, her eyelids trembling. Bieren wanted to beg for her life. He continuously caressed her cheeks, shaking his head vigorously. Afraid her breath might cease, he pressed his cheek against hers, facing her closely.

“You have to live. There is no life for me without you.”

Lizbeth smiled faintly at the man who was pressing his forehead against hers, professing his love. It was the first time their faces had ever been this close without their lips touching. She might have shared a thousand kisses with him in her life. A thousand kisses that no other couple in the world would ever share, as he treated her like a mistress, but every single one of those humiliating hours was precious to Lizbeth.

“What’s the point of a child without you? Please….”

Bieren muttered, pressing his cheek against hers. Lizbeth looked like she was about to cry. It was clear she was in immense pain. Despite the agony that should have focused all her nerves toward her lower body, an unbearable drowsiness washed over her. Among the dying patients Lizbeth had cared for in the infirmary, some had mentioned feeling drowsy. Those who fell asleep never woke up again. She was facing that moment. 

“No, no. Lizbeth, Lizbeth!”

Ignoring the man calling her name tenderly, Lizbeth closed her eyes. She sensed she would never wake up again. She had the luxury of dying in the arms of the one she loved after an unremarkable life. She tried to cling to her fading consciousness, worried about the man she would leave behind, but it was a fate she couldn’t avoid.