Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 205
Quickening
To live as a shepherd, one must know how to slaughter sheep. Seeing blood was never unfamiliar.
But she had never once harmed a human in her life.
And never, not even in her darkest thoughts, had she imagined that a man larger and stronger than herself—her husband—could be injured by the weapon she had wielded.
When she saw blood dripping from his eye, her vision went black.
The warmth of the bathroom spilled out into the hallway, mingling with the screams of the attendants that pierced her ears.
“Your Highness!”
“Master…! Oh no!”
The castle’s servants, instinctively rushing toward Izar, froze in shock when they saw Freesia in his arms.
Her soaking wet body was wrapped in Izar’s outer garment, but the liquid dripping from her wrist was far from clear water.
While he carried the unconscious Freesia to her bed, others crowded around Izar.
“Master, your eye…!”
“Step aside and be quiet.”
“But—!”
Izar brushed away the hands reaching for him, frowning as pain radiated from his left eye. It wasn’t as though he had lost his sight—there was no need for such a fuss.
Freesia had swung with all her might, but even so, she hadn’t managed to cut his eye.
The blade had merely grazed just below his left eye, leaving a shallow, horizontal scratch.
Shrugging off the blood dripping from his wound, Izar knelt by Freesia, cradling her pale face on the bed.
Her face, now devoid of color, looked lifeless as the water dried on her skin. The doctor hurried to examine her limp arms, which dangled like those of a corpse.
“Freesia, open your eyes.”
He struggled to keep his voice steady, but as her eyes refused to flutter open, his tone grew increasingly desperate.
“Freesia, please…!”
Blood from his wound dripped onto the floor.
The mingled scent of her blood and his filled the air, each drop intensifying the echo of Electra’s earlier accusations in his mind.
〈You’re the one who created the environment that allowed her to be beaten!〉
〈You and your father are the same—both desperate to choke the life out of women! And you’re worse because you’re a hypocrite!〉
Yes, all of that was true.
At first, he had ignored Freesia out of resentment, enraged by the imperial family’s mockery.
He had hated her so much that he tried to erase her existence entirely, as though she had never been born. He had taken out his frustrations on the weakest member of the group, tormenting her as though to vent his anger.
But now… now it was different.
Now, all he wanted was to make Freesia happy. That was all he truly desired.
While his thoughts swirled in chaos, the doctor glanced up at him.
“Fortunately, the wound isn’t deep. With proper care and rest, both Your Highness and the baby should recover without issue—”
“Get out. Now.”
Izar’s voice, heavy with barely contained rage, cut through the air.
Not one of them had acted properly when Freesia’s life was at risk. If not for the maid who had grown suspicious when Freesia didn’t emerge from the bathroom, and if he had arrived even a moment later…
“You’re all useless.”
His voice trembled with suppressed anger. Even if Freesia had dismissed them, they should have stayed near enough to keep an eye on her.
How could he trust these people to remain in this castle? He would rather stay by her side himself, tending to her every need.
‘There is no one that I can trust.’
Waiting for her to regain consciousness felt like being submerged in the depths of a dark lake, his legs tangled in weeds, unable to move.
At last, as the pale blue of the night deepened, her ashen face stirred, and her eyelids fluttered open.
“…Izar.”
“Freesia, are you awake?”
“Where is this…? I…”
“It’s all right now.”
He cupped her shocked, pale face, speaking with reassurance, as though to shield her from the sight of her bandaged wrists. As if to erase what had happened entirely.
“You’ll forget about today. It happened because you were too exhausted.”
She must have overexerted herself since returning to the castle. He shouldn’t have left her to her own devices, no matter how much she insisted.
Izar fought to stay calm, though his urgency showed in the way he spoke to her gently.
“From now on, rest without worrying about anything. Leave the duties of the Duchess to—”
“The baby…”
Her faint voice, like it would dissolve into the night, interrupted him.
“It’s yours, without a doubt.”
Freesia’s face crumpled with tears.
“You don’t even love me, yet you’ve condemned me to misery to save yourself…”
“……”
“This child makes me want to die. It’s undoubtedly yours.”
It felt as if a shard of sharp ice had been driven into his spine.
How else could a small woman’s words rob him of breath like this?
Freesia covered her face with both hands and whispered.
“It’s too much. I already hate this baby so much it’s driving me mad.”
“Freesia.”
“Izar, please, just kill me now. I’m begging you.”
Her tears streamed down her cheeks with every word she spoke. Izar could do nothing but stare at her helplessly, his heart aching as he watched her.
“I can’t do it. I can’t give birth. I never wanted this…”
“……”
“This child… if it even slightly resembles you…”
“……”
“I will hate it, Izar… I’m certain of it.”
Her pale green eyes closed, and the final tear slipped down her temple, disappearing into her hair.
