I clutched the hem of his trousers, my voice a raw, ugly rasp.
“He was a boy, Damien. He will never learn to ride a horse or draw a bow now…”
In countless nights past, Damien had kissed my hair and whispered in my ear.
“Elara, my love, when we have a child…”
“If it’s a boy, I will teach him to ride and shoot.”
“If it’s a girl, you will teach her poetry and song.”
But now, our child never even had the chance to see this world.
The memory must have struck Damien too, because his pupils contracted sharply.
He instinctively glanced at the ravaged garden, his face shadowed and dark.
Liana sensed his hesitation. She dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.
“Damien, the Master Physician came yesterday. He said my ceaseless headaches are caused by the unquiet spirit of a dead infant buried on the grounds.”
“It was foolish of me. I was only thinking of myself, not of my lady’s feelings.”
“If she truly cannot bear it, I suppose I can continue to suffer…”
I didn’t hear another word she said. All I saw was a groundskeeper unearthing a small bundle wrapped in red cloth.
The searing crimson made my tears fall anew.
I tugged desperately at Damien’s leg.
“Damien, if you just spare my child…”
“I will give up my position as your wife. I will give it to Liana!”
“My wife?”
Damien’s brow furrowed, and then a storm of fury erupted in his eyes.
He gritted his teeth. “Elara, does the title of Lady Vaughn disgust you so much?”
I knelt there, sobbing too hard to speak.
His lips thinned into a white line, his face ashen. Suddenly, he let out a harsh, barking laugh.
“You are truly something else!”
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“A dead infant is an ill omen. To leave it here will only bring disaster upon this house Men! Bring me tinder and dry branches…”
Damien squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the raw crimson within them. He bit out each word,
“Burn it. On the spot.”
