Bab 136: Her cries
Luciana blinked against the haze clouding her vision, finding two unfamiliar faces and one she vaguely recognized.
"My lady, how are you feeling?" the doctor asked gently, his tone cautious.
Luciana's throat burned, dry and raw. Guessing his profession by his question, she rasped, "Water."
The midwife stepped forward, propping her up with a stack of pillows. Every movement sent sharp pain radiating through her abdomen. She reclined back with a grimace as the midwife brought a cup to her lips. The water was lukewarm, and though her parched throat welcomed it, she coughed, spluttering weakly. Each cough was a jolt of agony.
"Take it slow, my lady," the midwife murmured, holding the cup steady. Bit by bit, Luciana managed a few sips.
Nemesis stood in the corner, silent, his hands clenched as he watched helplessly. The sight of his mother struggling made his stomach churn.
"Give her the medication," the doctor instructed.
But when the midwife approached with the prescribed dose, Luciana turned her face away. Her voice was hoarse but resolute. "Where am I? Who are you?"
The doctor sighed, recognizing her rising distress. "You're safe," he began. Then, slowly, he explained her condition and the events leading to it.
Luciana froze, his words sinking in with a weight that felt unbearable. They cut into her like jagged shards.
"No…" she whispered, her mind spiraling into disbelief. "This can't be true."
She clung to denial, shaking her head, her trembling hands instinctively reaching for her abdomen. Her fingers probed the space where the familiar swell had once been, but it was gone. Completely.
Her breathing quickened, her voice cracking. "You're lying!" she cried, her tone a mix of fury and desperation. "My child is alive. My baby is alive!" She repeated the mantra like a lifeline, clinging to it even as reality loomed, cold and unrelenting.
Her grief erupted in screams and wails that filled the room. Nemesis, unnerved, stepped back, his young face pale with fear.
"She needs her husband," the doctor muttered, signaling to the midwife. "Where is he?"
"He went out with the innkeeper," the midwife replied, hastily preparing warm towels to calm Luciana.
The doctor readied a tranquilizer, but Luciana fought with surprising strength, resisting their every attempt to subdue her. "Hold her still!" he barked as he moved closer.
Suddenly, the door slammed open.
Erebus stormed in, his expression darkening as he took in the scene: Luciana sobbing uncontrollably, the doctor and midwife struggling to restrain her. His jaw clenched.
He crossed the room in swift, heavy strides, his presence imposing. The doctor flinched under his sharp glare, realizing his mistake in breaking the news so bluntly.
"Leave," Erebus commanded coldly.
The doctor hesitated but obeyed, retreating with the midwife. Nemesis lingered, his gaze flitting between his mother and Erebus, reluctant to leave.
"Take him," Erebus ordered the midwife. She coaxed Nemesis out, though he kept glancing back, his heart heavy with worry.
Now alone, Erebus approached Luciana.
"Luciana…" he began, his voice softer, his hand extending toward her.
She slapped it away with surprising force. "Don't touch me!" she snapped, her voice raw with grief. "Go away. Leave me alone!"
Her words were daggers, sharper than anything he'd ever faced. He had seen her upset before, but never like this—never so broken, so utterly undone.
He swallowed hard, guilt coiling in his chest. He reached for her again, but she recoiled, her glare icy.
"How much longer?" she choked out, her sobs punctuating her words. "How much longer will you make me suffer?"
Erebus froze. He had heard similar accusations countless times before—from prisoners, from enemies—but never from her. Never from the one person whose pain now struck him like a physical blow.
"Luciana, think of Nemesis," he pleaded. "We still have him. He needs you."
"Don't," she hissed, cutting him off. "Don't give me false hope. He's not mine. He's just an orphan you took in. You dragged that helpless toddler into this mess."
Her words stung, but Erebus pressed on. "I adopted him for you," he said, his voice strained. "So you wouldn't feel alone in this strange place."
She scoffed bitterly, her mind unraveling. "You?" she spat. "You're the reason I'm here. You kidnapped me! You used me—for your selfish, twisted desires. And now, now you've taken my child!"
"Luciana!" He caught her flailing hands stopping her relentless actions of the attempt of pushing him away. He pinned her gently but firmly to stop her erratic movements.
Her accusations hit like hammer blows. But amidst her tirade, one name struck him like lightning.
"Jafar," she snarled, her voice dripping with venom. "It was all his doing, wasn't it? You planned it all together didn't you? The kidnapping, the marriage, the lies—it was all his plan."
Erebus's blood ran cold as realization dawned. Every suggestion Jafar had made, every manipulation—it all fell into place. The abduction, suggesting marriage, imperial capital visits. Everything was part of his conspiracy.
"Leave me," Luciana whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please… just go."
He hesitated, his hand hovering above her trembling shoulder.
"Where will you go?" he asked quietly, part demanding.
"Anywhere," she said, her tone hollow, her tears unrelenting. "Anywhere but here."
Her frailty crushed him. Slowly, he loosened his grip on her wrists, releasing her from his hold. She curled into herself, her muffled sobs filling the silence.
Erebus sat beside her, the weight of his guilt suffocating. For the first time in his life, he didn't have an answer. The crackle of the hearth was the only sound, a backdrop to her broken cries.
He remained by her side, silent and steadfast, until her quiet sobs gave way to the heavy rhythm of fitful sleep. Even then, he did not leave, his watchful gaze lingering on her fragile form as the hours crept by thinking of some way that would help him out of this ocean of disaster.
When evening settled, the doctor was summoned once more to assess her condition. The room felt heavy with unspoken words as each of the doctor's questions was met with a blank stare, her silence unbroken.
Erebus flinched at the futility of it all, his jaw tightening. When the examination ended, he dismissed the doctor with a curt nod, though the physician lingered long enough to offer a firm piece of advice. "Listen to her, no matter what she asks. Let her guide the way."
Those words lingered with Erebus, weighing heavily on him as he finally resolved to heed them. Whatever she wanted—whatever it took—he would honor it.
When he re-entered the room, the last light of dusk filtered through the window, painting the walls with amber and gold. She sat by the window, still and distant, her gaze fixed on the horizon as though searching for something just beyond reach. The warm evening breeze drifted through the open panes, stirring the delicate strands of her hair, which danced softly in the fading light.
Erebus watched her for a long moment, his chest tightening at the sight of her dazed and disconnected. Then, with quiet determination, he dragged a chair closer and sat beside her.
"Let's go," he said, his voice low but resolute.
She turned her head slightly, her eyes finally meeting his.
"Back to Amanécer," he added, his words carrying the weight of both surrender and promise.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone