Chapter 65
Another month passed, and I lost the will to eat.
The first day, I simply ignored the meals placed before me. The second day, Dr. Barly, formerly known to me as Mrs. Barly, looked as though she were the one on the verge of perishing.
I lay on the bed, unmoving, my gaze fixed upon the ceiling. How strange it was, to feel so utterly detached from my own body. I heard her pleas, felt the weight of her worry pressing upon me, yet I did not care enough to respond.
"Lady Florence, I beg of you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You need sustenance."
Sustenance.
As if food could undo all that had been done. As if nourishment could mend something far beyond the confines of flesh.
I shut my eyes. And then, as though summoned by the very depths of my misery, Millicent's face appeared in the darkness behind my lid.
I despised it.
I despised that she haunted me still, that she lingered in the crevices of my mind. How wretched it was, to be in this state because of her, and yet still have my mind betray me so cruelly.
Dr. Barly spoke again, desperate, grasping at whatever thread of reason she believed I had left. "The babe is already small. Given how little you are showing, I fear, please, you must not neglect nourishment."
And then, I felt it.
A flutter. A shift. A movement from within.
My eyes flew open, my heart hammering wildly. My trembling hands moved to my stomach, pressing gently, as though to confirm what I had just felt.
Another kick.
A small, distinct motion, undeniable and real.
The world blurred around me, my vision swimming as an unfamiliar emotion surged through my chest. I could not describe it. I had no words for it. But it was overwhelming, suffocating in a way that made my hands tremble all the more.
It was real.
There was life inside me.
My child.
Another kick.
And then another.
Was the child… hungry?
A crushing wave of guilt washed over me.
Another kick.
More. And more.
Then, nothing.
The movement stopped.
Panic seized me with an unforgiving grip. My throat constricted, my body stiffening with terror. I struggled to draw breath, fear clawing up my spine like a wretched beast.
"H-help…" The word barely made it past my lips, weak and fragile.
"Lady Florence, what is wrong?" Dr. Barly abandoned the bowl she was holding with haste, her hands already pulling back the blanket as she examined me with a frantic urgency.
"The child… is not moving anymore," I rasped, my breaths ragged and uneven.
She worked quickly, her hands steady despite the fear in her eyes, her movements precise as she checked for signs of distress.
I lay there, helpless, awaiting judgment.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, she released a breath. "Lady Florence, the babe is fine," she assured me softly. "But I swear to you, if you do not eat, both you and the child will be in grave danger."
I exhaled shakily, relief crashing over me in a violent wave.
"Alright," I whispered. "I will eat… I will eat…"
Dr. Barly did not hesitate. She propped me up carefully then lifted the spoon to my lips. I accepted each bite, swallowing against the sickness rising in my throat. My body rejected it, but I forced it down, and all the while, my hands never left my stomach, pressing over the life that rested there.
The days that followed saw me returned to some semblance of normalcy, though I remained convinced that a devil had taken residence within me. How else could I explain the sudden fondness that had sprouted so stubbornly in my chest ever since I first felt the child stir? It was utterly absurd, completely irrational, and yet, here I was. Eight months along, the due date merely a month away, and instead of resigning myself to misery, I found myself marveling at the life growing within me.
Dr. Barly remarked that my stomach remained on the smaller side for my condition, though she assured me that the babe was healthy.
Spring had finally arrived, and with it, the rarest of miracles. Dr. Barly had granted me permission to step outside. A suspicious privilege, indeed.
"How uncharacteristically benevolent of you today, Dr. Barly," I mused, watching her with narrowed eyes as she draped a thin cloak over my shoulders.
She smiled. "One of the guards had an unfortunate encounter with a bear. The other had to escort him back to the capital. It will be a few hours before he returns with a replacement, which means no one will be aware that you ever left your room."
My brows lifted. "So you are sneaking me out?"
"Yes. I trust you shall not betray me?"
"Why, Doctor," I gasped, placing a dramatic hand over my heart. "I am wounded that you would even ask. Of course, I shall remain silent. Now, let us go before you change your mind!"
With a bit of hesitation, she handed me what could only be described as a crude excuse for a walking stick. It was a branch, roughly carved, no doubt hastily fashioned for this illicit venture. She looked somewhat embarrassed. "Use this for now."
I accepted it with all the dignity of a queen receiving a scepter. "If it serves its purpose, then it shall do splendidly!"
Without further ado, I pointed toward a tree not far from us, its base surrounded by an explosion of wildflowers in every imaginable color. "I wish to go there," I declared. "I have been gazing at it from my window for months."
I said this, of course, but I was already making my way toward it, unwilling to waste a moment of my precious freedom.
As I walked, I glanced down at my stomach, smoothing my palm over the swell where my child rested. "I shall teach you something most important today," I informed them with great seriousness. "How to craft a bracelet from flowers. My dearest friend, Cecilia, is the true master of this art, but I daresay I am not entirely without skill."
Settling myself in the middle of the blooming patch, I surveyed the flowers with quiet appreciation. I did not adore them as Cecilia did, but neither did I dislike them. They were beautiful, unburdened by anything beyond their simple existence.
I reached for three small yellow flowers. "Now, pay close attention, my little one," I murmured. "This is how it is done. You must braid them, like weaving hair, ensuring each stem is intertwined securely. And when you near the end, you must add more until your chain is long enough to encircle your wrist."
"Lady Florence, shall I fetch you a sandwich?" Dr. Barly inquired, her lips curling into a fond smile, as though I were her cherished daughter rather than the reluctant prisoner she was assigned to watch over.
I lifted my gaze from my work. "You are not the least bit concerned that I shall take advantage of your absence and make my grand escape?"
She chuckled. "Forgive me, Lady Florence, but I do not believe you shall run off. In truth, I hardly think I need to lock the doors at all. They are being unnecessarily strict."
I gasped theatrically, clapping my hands together. "Good heavens, at last! Someone with a semblance of reason."
"Alright, I shall return shortly."
"Splendid, oh, and do make two, if you please. I find myself rather famished."
I placed a hand upon my stomach. "One for me, and one for the child. It would be terribly selfish to eat alone, do you not agree?"
"Of course!" And with that, she turned and made her way back inside.
Humming softly, I returned to my task, fingers deftly weaving the delicate stems together.