The news of Anita’s death spread quickly across the royal city.
From the market to the tea houses, to the palace gates and the servants’ quarters.
Everyone was talking about Duchess Anita.
How she knelt at the palace gate.
How the people threw stones.
How her carriage ran wild and crashed.
So said she died on the spot; others said she died at ho. But no matter when she died, her death was a reality no one mourned.
"She deserves it," so whispered.
In the quiet wing of the palace, two guards stood outside Elizabeth’s room.
"I heard she knelt for hours, begging for rcy," one guard said with a smirk. "She dared to beg."
The other chuckled. "After all the things her daughter did? Poisoning Lady Anastasia? Stealing another woman’s husband? Who would pity her simply because she was kneeling?"
"Serves them right," the first guard said. "Mother and daughter are the sa. Always plotting. Maybe she wanted to force the king’s hand or accuse him of being cruel."
"Unfortunately, she only dug her own grave," the second added. "Let’s see how long the daughter lasts. Without the baby in her belly, she would already be gone."
They both laughed softly.
"If you ask , I say they should get rid of both mother and child and save us the trouble," one of the guards said.
Inside the room, Elizabeth was standing near the door.
She had not ant to listen. She only wanted to move around a little because she was stiff.
But every word reached her clearly.
Her face turned pale.
"What... did you just say?" she asked through the door, her voice loud with fear.
The guards stiffened for a mont, then relaxed. She was now a disgraced woman. The forr king had already abandoned her; there was nothing to fear. One of them spoke loudly on purpose.
"Your mother is dead," he said carelessly. "Crushed in a carriage accident. A fitting ending for a vicious woman like her."
The other guard added, "She begged for you. No one cared."
Silence.
For a few seconds, there was no sound from inside.
Then the door suddenly opened.
Elizabeth started banging on it.
"You are lying," she shouted, unwilling to accept the news.
The first guard shrugged. "The whole city knows."
"She died on the way back to the Duke’s estate," the second guard said. "People say it was karma. Go ask anyone." He paused. "Oh, I forgot—you cannot go out," he mocked.
Elizabeth felt as if the ground had disappeared beneath her feet.
Her mother...
Kneeling?
Begging?
For her?
Her breathing beca uneven.
"You’re just saying this to hurt ," she whispered.
But deep down, she knew the guards had no reason to lie.
A sharp pain suddenly shot through her stomach.
She gasped and grabbed the doorfra.
Another pain followed.
Stronger.
Elizabeth bent forward, holding her belly.
"It hurts..." she whispered.
The pain ca again, making her cry out.
Hearing her cry, the guards realized sothing was wrong and opened the door.
The two n looked at each other.
"What is wrong with her?" the first asked.
The other shook his head, then noticed the blood on the floor and pointed it out.
"Call the physician!" one guard shouted, now panicking.
Elizabeth was helped back onto her bed as the pains continued.
Her body trembled.
Tears ran down her face.
"My child... no... not now..."
The physician arrived quickly and examined her.
After so ti, he shook his head.
"It is false labor," he said.
"Can she be saved?" the guard asked.
"You should send word and ask what should be done. If she delivers the baby, it might not survive. There is no way to stop the forced labor. Her pregnancy was already delicate," the physician said.
"Save ," Elizabeth said. Although she was in pain, she had heard the physician’s words. Once, she would have done anything to have a healthy baby, but Edward had fled and left her alone. She felt it was best if the baby died.
The royal physician looked at her. It was the first ti he had seen a woman choose her life over that of her baby.
"Send word to Her Highness. I will do my best here," the physician said to the guard. He did not care what Elizabeth thought.
One of the guards hurried away to inform Anastasia. He returned not long after.
His boots were stained with mud from running across the courtyard.
He stopped at the doorway, breathing hard.
"Her Highness has given her order," he said.
The royal physician did not look up. "And?"
The guard swallowed. "She said Elizabeth’s wishes should be followed."
For a mont, the room fell quiet except for Elizabeth’s painful cries.
The physician nodded once.
"Very well. Then we focus on saving the mother."
Elizabeth lay drenched in sweat, her hair stuck to her pale face. She was half-conscious, drifting between pain and darkness.
The labor ca hard and fast.
She cursed Edward with each wave of pain. Why had he not won against Ernest? When he fled, why did he only take Dorothy and leave her and his child behind?
Blood stained the sheets. A midwife arrived to help with the childbirth. The guards stood outside now, no longer mocking, only assisting when needed.
After hours that felt like days, a thin cry almost rose—
But it never fully ca.
The room grew still.
The physician held the tiny, lifeless body in his hands. No movent. No breath.
He closed his eyes briefly.
"He has no breath," he said quietly.
But Elizabeth was still bleeding.
"Hold her down," the physician ordered.
He worked carefully, stopping the bleeding, stitching what was torn, fighting to pull her back from the edge of death.
"Stay with . Do not close your eyes," the physician ordered, seeing Elizabeth grow weaker.
Elizabeth tried to stay awake, but she eventually lost consciousness.
"Is she going to be all right?" the midwife asked.
"We have done our best. If she pulls through the night, then she will survive," the physician said, shaking his head.
—
The next morning, weak sunlight slipped through the curtains.
Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open.
Her body felt heavy. Empty.
The physician stood nearby, checking her pulse.
"You are awake," he said.
She stared at the ceiling.
"My child?" she asked, her voice dry and faint.
"The baby did not survive," the physician replied.
Elizabeth blinked slowly.
No tears ca.
No scream.
She simply turned her face to the side.
"I see," she whispered.
There was no love in her voice. No grief. Only exhaustion.
Elizabeth felt that, given the current situation, it was a relief the child had died. This way she could cut off all ties with Edward. Perhaps, since her mother had already died, Anastasia would be forced to show her rcy. She was still young and could marry again and have children in the future.
The physician watched her carefully. Seeing that she had taken the child’s fate calmly, he continued.
"There is sothing else."
Elizabeth’s eyes moved slightly, but she did not speak.
"Your womb was badly damaged. The bleeding was severe. To save your life, I had to take certain asures."
A pause.
"You will not be able to carry another child."
This ti, her expression changed.
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
"What... do you an?" she asked, unwilling to believe her ears.
"You will not conceive again. Even if you do, it will not hold," the physician said plainly.
The words settled into the room like cold frost.
Elizabeth stared at him.
For a long ti, she said nothing.
Then her breathing beca uneven.
Not from pain—
But from sothing breaking inside her.
Edward had fled.
Her mother was dead.
Her child was gone.
And now...
She would never be a mother. What man would be willing to marry her?
A strangled sound escaped her throat.
Then another.
Soon her body shook as sobs tore out of her chest.
She turned her face into the pillow and cried. She could not understand why God would not show her rcy. Anastasia had been poisoned, and it was said it would be difficult for her to bear children, yet she had given birth to twins. Even when she was poisoned, the physician managed to save her. She had also given birth early, yet her children survived.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, had not only lost her child but her womb as well.
The physician, seeing her cry so much, felt sorry for her, but there was nothing he could do.
"Rember to take your dicine. Perhaps you will have a miracle like Her Highness," he said, hoping to comfort her.
"Only those with kind hearts like my lady receive miracles," Rosa said. She had heard the news that morning and could not wait to see Elizabeth. After all, the person who had made Anastasia suffer the most was her.
"Get out," Elizabeth glared at Rosa. She could not believe she had fallen so low that even a maid could mock her.
"Do you think I want to be here? Your father entered the palace to ask permission for you to attend your mother’s funeral. I am only here to ask the physician if you can attend," Rosa said, rolling her eyes. She felt Elizabeth deserved this fate.
"I will attend," without waiting for the physician to speak Elizabeth answered. This was an opportunity to leave the palace, she would be a fool not to take it
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