My Child is Dead

When I opened my eyes, which had been closed for a long time, dawn was breaking.

In my ears, I could hear the steady breathing of someone nearby.

I looked at the man who shared the bed with me.

On the bed, the dark blue light coming through the window illuminated the man’s face.

There was a stark contrast between where the light touched and where it didn’t.

Below his nose, under his long eyelashes, a deep shadow formed.

He was a beautiful man who had once been my husband, a man who seemed incapable of doing anything cruel.

But I knew the wrongs this man had committed.

I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall; it pointed exactly to seven years ago.

A dry breath escaped between my lips.

‘I succeeded.’

With the help of a mysterious sorcerer, I had returned to seven years ago.

And there was only one reason for that.

To bring back my child, who had died in vain.

I quietly put on the clothes that the past version of me had taken off. Even as I opened the door, the man didn’t wake up.

Before closing the door, I looked back at him one last time.

“Henderson. Forget what happened last night. You and I will never meet again.”

This time, I had no intention of marrying him.

 

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

 

My beloved child had died an unexplained death.

According to the nanny, the child suddenly stopped breathing.

The doctor was called in a hurry, but by the time he arrived, the child had already passed away.

I only learned of this after returning to the duke’s estate following a banquet at the palace.

When I first heard the news from a maid, I couldn’t believe it.

“Don’t lie to me. Where is Eddie? I need to see him.”

I headed towards the annex where my child’s room was.

I stumbled several times while walking to the annex. At one point, my legs gave out, and I collapsed in the hallway.

Had it not been for the maid supporting me, I might not have made it to the annex.

When I finally reached Eddie’s room, I saw him lying quietly on the bed.

He looked peaceful, not like someone who had passed away.

“No… Eddie can’t be dead.”

Muttering like a madwoman, I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his face.

His fine black hair, pale skin, and long eyelashes… my beloved Eddie.

“Eddie. Mommy was too late, wasn’t she? The emperor kept talking for too long… Eddie, how about waking up? Let’s go eat the chocolate treats you love, okay?”

I gently shook his small shoulders.

Eddie, who was sensitive, used to wake up even at the slightest noise. But strangely, today he couldn’t wake up.

I called his name repeatedly.

“Eddie.”

It was then that I realized his chest, which should have been rising and falling like a bellows, was still.

There were no signs of inhalation or exhalation from him.

I placed my fingers under his nose and around his mouth. My fingertips trembled like aspen leaves.

Incredibly, I couldn’t feel even the faintest trace of my child’s delicate, breezelike breath.

“…!”

A foreboding word floated in my mind.

‘Death, death, death…’

I called out my child’s name until my voice was hoarse, desperately hoping his closed eyelids would flutter open.

But my calls and pleas didn’t reach him.

The child responded only with silence.

When the tears streaming from my eyes had soaked his entire face, I fainted.

 

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

 

Yes, it must have been a nightmare.

Henderson and I haven’t been getting along lately… that’s why I had such a terrible dream.

I need to mend my relationship with Henderson, if not for my sake, then for Eddie’s.

That was my first thought as soon as I regained consciousness.

As soon as my husband, Henderson, returns from his trip, I’ll tell him.

‘Let’s stop sleeping in separate rooms.’

It had been about a year since we started sleeping in different rooms. If we continued like this, our relationship might reach a point of no return.

Suddenly, I remembered Henderson’s cold face the first time he refused to share a bed with me.

“Riley, I’ll be sleeping in a different room tonight.”

The next day, and the day after that, and even a month later, he still didn’t return to our bedroom.

Our once lively room, filled with late-night conversations, had now become silent.

It was a sad thing. Even recalling it was painful.

“…Madam, are you alright?”

It was Matilda, my maid, asking.

I pressed my throbbing temple with my fingertips.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About thirty minutes, Madam.”

“What about Eddie? I need to go see Eddie.”

Matilda’s face became noticeably somber. She began to speak hesitantly, as if she dreaded saying the words.

“The young master… has passed away.”

“W-what are you talking about? He was just talking with me yesterday. He can’t be dead.”

But I remembered.

The pale face of the child lying on the bed.

The lifeless face of a child who was no longer breathing…

“…”

Matilda said nothing.

Her silence hurt, as I understood what it meant.

The pain, which had started at my temples, spread shallowly across my forehead.

I got out of bed and hurried toward the annex, almost running.

The cumbersome dress I had worn for the banquet kept catching under my feet.

I stumbled and fell, but I kept going, ignoring the whispers of the maids at the ducal mansion.

What awaited me in the child’s room was the doctor and Eddie still lying on the bed.

It didn’t take long for me to face the cruel reality.

The child’s breathing had stopped. His hand had grown even colder.

I would never again hold his warm little hand.

I would no longer see the lips of my child babbling adorably.

I would no longer see my reflection in the bright eyes of my child.

The sudden death of my child was not a dream.

It was a harsh reality.

“I can’t believe it…”

I screamed and wailed in denial of the unbearable truth. I even slapped the doctor, demanding that he bring my child back to life.

But nothing changed.

“Mom! Eddie loves you so much.”

The child who loved me the most had gone to a place from which he could never return.

I felt as though I had fallen into an abyss.

A place where no salvation could reach me.

 

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

 

It rained on the day of my child’s funeral.

The rain, which had begun early in the morning, grew heavier as time passed.

It felt as if the sky itself was mourning my child’s death, and for a moment, I took some small comfort in that.

But it was a fleeting solace, one that could not save me.

Henderson returned just as the funeral was ending.

As the head of the Graham Ducal House, he had been staying in a neighboring country under the emperor’s orders.

The funeral was held at the largest temple in the capital, and I watched closely—very closely—as Henderson walked toward the altar where our child’s coffin lay.

He was completely soaked, as if he hadn’t used an umbrella.

Raindrops clung to the ends of his hair and trickled down his pale cheeks. Henderson made no attempt to wipe them away.

Henderson gazed down at the child, who looked even paler than him, for a long time.

His expression was one of deep emptiness.

Even as the small coffin was lowered into the ground, Henderson did not cry.

Not a single tear fell.

He only seemed to feel the futility of the child’s death, but not sadness. At least, that’s how it appeared to me.

‘No matter how much you hate me, that child was yours too. Why aren’t you grieving?’

I wanted to ask him that, but in the end, I remained silent.

I was too exhausted, having cried for days. I didn’t have the strength to argue or to pour out my emotions in front of Henderson.

Throughout the entire funeral, we didn’t exchange a single word.

He only glanced at me occasionally, with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

 

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

 

The rain that had started in the morning finally stopped deep into the night.

That night, when everyone in the estate had fallen asleep, I lay curled up in bed, slowly blinking.

My body was unbearably fatigued, yet sleep wouldn’t come.

My child had been buried in the cold earth. How could I sleep comfortably in a warm, soft bed?

Comfort felt like a luxury.

“Eddie…”

I whispered the name that would no longer answer, as my thoughts drifted to the suddenness of my child’s death and Henderson’s cold demeanor.