336

***

It seemed like every single person around Inés only knew how to say one thing, and that was, You must not step out of bed. Her close family members told her this one after another. Even the maids in her bedroom visibly flinched every time she moved-only to pick up something from the nightstand-and reported everything to Juana. As for Juana, she had developed a habit of tattling to those who could influence Inés's actions. This included Duke and Duchess Escalante, Duke Valeztena, Luciano, and Miguel. However, Juana's own nagging was also incredibly persistent, and it became even harder to ignore when Raúl joined in.

A few moments ago, Inés had been standing by the window, peering out the window. But when Duke Valeztena and Luciano entered the bedroom and saw her, without further ado, they had -very carefully-dragged her back to the bed.

Now, she leaned against her pillow with slight scowl of displeasure, listening to her father's nagging. Inwardly, she muttered like a petulant child, I am already staying in bed and resting, am I not? If I did it any longer, I would start to rot.

She thought of Olga, who, thankfully, had not been allowed to see her for a while now. On the night of the banquet, Isabella had personally blocked her path at the risk of antagonizing her, and Duke Valeztena had made a point of not bringing Olga along from that point on-they understood that she posed the greatest threat to the well-being of both Inés and her unborn child.

"How many times have I told you to stay in bed until you give birth?" Duke Valeztena said.

"Eight. I suppose it is nine now," Inés responded indifferently, flipping another page in her book.

"Why do you still refuse to listen, then?"

"I imagine you will have said it a thousand times by the time I finally give birth."

"Your mother told me that even a careless step may result in losing your child when your womb is so weak. For the first time in your life, Inés, you must act like a proper lady."

The duke had always supported her, even back when people used to call her the Crow of House Valeztena. He had told her: "It's simply because you are so refined and devout, unlike the young nobles in Mendoza nowadays... The path of faith is a difficult one, and foolish hogs can never understand the higher will of men."Now, nearly twenty-four years after his daughter's birth, he was pointing out her mannerisms and telling her to act like a lady.

Suppressing a grumble, Inés responded, "If a careless step is truly enough to do such a thing, then perhaps that means-"

"That means what? Don't tell me it's simply what destiny intended. Try to be more loving, for the sake of the child you're carrying, will you?"

"How bothersome..." she muttered with sullen sigh. "Do you truly have the time to be visiting me every single day and night?"

"I would advise you to be less heartless and watch the words you speak. Soon, you will also be a parent."

"If I recall correctly, you're the one who told me to be a lady for 'the first time in my life.' Now I am lying here, finally bearing a child, and you call me heartless."

"What a clever way to interpret your father's nagging. I fear your children will learn from you," the duke commented, mild disapproval in his tone.

"I suppose I will only have myself to blame, just like you."

"I hardly believe I am to blame for this."

"Ask your dear son, then-he will say that I simply take after you. Isn't that right, Luciano?"

Luciano approached her, holding an apple he had just washed. "Well, perhaps. Here is your apple."

This marked the end of yet another squabble with her father. Inés closed her book and shifted herself, trying to sit up more, and the duke immediately supported her arms to help her up. She used her left hand-still frozen stiff-to push her book aside. With her other hand, she took the apple from Luciano. It felt cool and refreshing against her skin, like it had just been fetched from the cellar. She felt her father and brother glance over at her left hand, but she wasn't too worried. After all, they weren't as fragile as the Escalantes were currently.

"Are you still living on meager fruit?" the duke asked, a note of disapproval still lingering in his voice.

She gave him a nod, biting into the apple with relish.

"Did Duchess Escalante not have the kitchen maids purge and restock the kitchen?"

Inés didn't respond, still eating the apple, and Luciano spoke for her with a sigh. "She cannot keep down anything unless she watches it be prepared." He then sat down next to her on the mattress.

Duke Valeztena heaved a sigh as well. "But an apple isn't enough... You need some good steak."

After that fateful day, Inés allowed very few things into her system-for instance, fresh whole fruits that had been washed clean right before her eyes. She only ate things that couldn't have been poisoned; she couldn't take a single sip of flavored liquids.

Even water didn't feel entirely safe, and she had already thrown it up multiple times. She refused to take the medicines that many noblewomen were prescribed during difficult pregnancies, as well as those used to treat pregnant women who were malnourished from morning sickness.

But this wasn't exactly morning sickness-she wasn't bothered by any kind of food as long as she didn't have to put it in her mouth. It wasn't that she declined food out of distrust, for she still had faith in those close to her. The issue was that her body rejected every single thing that she hadn't seen being prepared. It filled her with overwhelming anxiety, and she would end up vomiting all day, then lying with her face buried in her sheets, feeling a hollow pain in her stomach.

"How will your baby feed itself when you are stick thin, Inés?" the duke said, sounding concerned.

"As you can see, I am eating quite well, and I am in no danger of becoming stick thin," she responded, holding up the half-eaten apple.

"That is just enough food for a squirrel."

"I highly doubt a squirrel could eat an apple of this size. For me, on the other hand, it's the perfect size."

The duke sighed. "I suppose you have never been very compliant..."

"Is that what you expect from your sick daughter?"

"No, no... Thanks to your brother's stubbornness, your offspring will be my first grandchild. You can forget the meaning of compliance if you wish."

"I will remember that, Father."

"Since when have you ever forced her to be compliant?" Luciano muttered under his breath, pointing out his father's hypocrisy. True to his words, the duke had always allowed Inés to defy him ever since she had woken from a long fever when she was six years old. The duke awkwardly pressed his lips together.

Inés placed the apple on the nightstand, then she turned to her father as if she had suddenly recalled something. "Did you give Dante ljar his reward?"

"Yes. The promise of peaceful relations with Valeztena," the duke responded with confidence.

She sighed lightly. "I know you may loathe admitting it, but he saved my life."

A shadow of dissatisfaction passed over his face. "Yes, of course I rewarded that snake. He asked for some land to satisfy his father, and I obliged."

"Thank you. Now, as for the upcoming Vida Nueva-"

He immediately cut her off. "No."

"You will not let me finish?" she said, raising an indignant eyebrow.

The Vida Nueva was a celebration held at the end of every autumn, the most fertile season, which was also the beginning of winter. It was also the celebration of Saint Anastasio, the apostle-though the festivities were meant to honor his holy resurrection, the day of feasting and revelry had no actual connection to the event. On this day, intoxicated crowds filled the palace, small manors, and the streets, dancing with abandon. It also happened to be the emperor's most beloved holiday.

"You are not stepping foot out of this room for the time being," the duke said sternly. "Not even for the Vida Nueva, not for anything else."

There was the reason why he had been visiting the Escalante Manor every single day like a prison guard. Just as Inés couldn't bear to swallow a single bite of food that she hadn't 'confirmed' was safe, he feared the thought of her leaving the safety of the room. The fact that the room was small enough to be scanned in a matter of seconds likely brought him great relief, despite the vast manor being so carefully guarded.

He acted as if the world outside her room was filled with thorny bushes, leading to a steep cliff. His paranoia was palpable-perhaps she would be assaulted out of nowhere, or maybe a single wrong step would loosen the child from her weakened womb. She could empathize with him somewhat.

"It has already been more than six days since I disappeared from the public eye," she said. "In the past, I used to visit the palace nearly every day...I must attend the Vida Nueva. You know what people will suspect if a young noble lady disappears for months without warning. The festivities begin in three weeks. It's the perfect timing. You must accompany me in Cárcel's place."

"There is no need for you to concern yourself with such meaningless suspicions."

"Of course, but what if I lose my child the moment Alicia begins to suspect me? That possibility is why I must be considerate of those rumors."

"That would never happen, Inés. We all know to be wary of that... evil woman. You can just put your mind and body at ease and stay-"

She cut him off gently. "Then perhaps I will end up dead as well. Do keep in mind that the culprit has not been caught yet. Well... I'm sure you're already well aware of that. Why else would you be visiting me so anxiously?"

He remained silent.

"Alicia is much more shrewd than you think, yet she is incredibly impulsive as well. Once she realizes that I am carrying a child, she will no longer resort to petty tactics such as the panote."

Referring to the panote as a 'petty tactic' almost felt like an insult to the suffering she had endured-after all, that vile thing had nearly ruined her entire life. But panote wasn't something that would immediately have the intended effect, although it would be a different story if she were to ingest it every day like she used to.

"Nothing has changed on the surface," she continued. "Alicia is still slipping in panote through the apothecary's back door, and Angelica still gets my prescriptions from him, despite knowing I won't take the medicine. They can check my medicine if they wish, but they will not find any differences. How are they to know that we've changed the ingredients in the medicine that will be delivered to other innocent women?" She paused for a moment to take a breath. "Alicia feeds on my desperation, so that is what she will see. I won't let her know that I have anything to protect."

"Ines..."

"The world must remain oblivious until I can no longer hide the swelling of my belly. I need more time for the child to grow, an opportunity for it to mature..."

That way, her children would be harder to kill, not so easy to erase from existence... She just wanted Cárcel to see them, that was all...

Sometimes silence itself served as the best answer. On the night after the banquet, she knew exactly what Angelica had never managed to say-that it would be nearly impossible to give birth to children who were alive. She had only told Inés three days later, when they were allowed some more privacy. The physician had groveled at her feet, confessing that Inés would have an impossibly rough journey ahead, and that everything she could see pointed to something ominous. She had wished that Inés had never gotten pregnant at all-that it was more a curse than anything else. "If only you had some more time to recover," she had said tearfully. "Only if you had conceived in the future..."

Angelica was an experienced physician, and Inés was not foolish enough to dismiss her tearful words. But her children would grow within her as long as they lived. They were Cárcel's children, her children, precious gifts given to her after many lifetimes.

Inés watched silently as the duke's face flushed with anger before he spun around and left the room, unwilling to berate her.

Luciano, still sitting next to her, spoke impassively. "I shall do it in his stead."

"Yes," she said as she bit into the remaining half of her apple.

He thoughtfully gazed at her stomach as he continued, "When are you planning on telling him that you are carrying two of his grandchildren?"

"He will find out once either of them makes it... if they make it..."

"Ines..."

She shook her head. "I'm not being pessimistic. I simply do not want Father or the Escalantes to worry... After all, this pregnancy will not benefit me in any way, or so I've heard."

"You barely have enough energy to share with one child, but now you are sharing it with two," Angelica had said. "If there had only been one, it may have been lucky enough to live, and even if that wasn't the case, perhaps you could have lost the child and still made it through... Having two, however, will put all three of you in danger. I do not believe that you will make it out of this pregnancy unscathed. Your body cannot survive carrying twins... I know you have always suffered from various ailments, but even that pales in comparison to this..."

"What do you suggest I do, then? Shall I continue to ingest the panote that your foolish apothecary used to prescribe to me?" she had responded.

"M-my apologies, my lady. My apologies... but even inducing a miscarriage with medication will be dangerous. It may be best to hope for a swift, natural miscarriage rather than wait until the end of the pregnancy and damage your body with stillborn

"I do not wish such a thing."

"My lady..."

"No more of your insolence. I have never wished anything but to keep them."

She had never told Luciano of Angelica's grim prognosis, but she knew that he would have gone down a similar line of thought regardless. Perhaps that was why he had only stared at her blankly, unable to smile or even frown, back when she first told him of the twins.

"Let me see your hand," Luciano said, reaching out to hold her left hand.

"It has been getting better."

"No... I do not feel any improvements," he muttered glumly. "Do you believe you will recover before the Vida Nueva?"

"Probably."

"Anxiety, they say, but I cannot even fathom just how much..." he trailed off, muttering. Both Angelica and Mario had identified the paralysis as a symptom of extreme anxiety.

"I do not feel particularly anxious," she said as she impassively looked down at her frozen hand, and it was the truth.

For a long time, he simply stroked her hand, then released it and slowly rose to his feet. "I will take you to the Vida Nueva despite knowing that Father will berate me for it... but only if you swear that you won't try to interact with them."

"I won't. Just how many times must you say it? I suppose you really are our father's son."

"Don't worry about Alicia or the crown prince. That matter is out of your hands now, understand?"

"I can take care of myself," she said.

"Of course you can."

"I have a reason to be cautious now," she said firmly. "I swear that I will stay away from them."

He gazed at her for a long moment, then gestured with his chin, asking her to lie down. Then he said, as if he had almost forgotten, "I heard the supply ship will sail from Calztela tomorrow."

"What?" She blinked in shock.

"If you have been writing any letters for Cárcel, perhaps you can send them over by the evening. That way, you can finally inform him of your pregnancy-"

"My dear heavens... Why did you not tell me sooner?"

"I only found out this morning. I had no way of telling you sooner." Luciano blanched as she began to flail around, trying to get out of bed. He rushed to support her with his arms. "What in God's name are you doing?"

"Just give me a moment. It will not take long to write, I swear..."

"Do you mean to say that you don't have a single one written?" he said with some disbelief.

"Of course not! I didn't think I would get to send a single one. It would only make the longing worse," she snapped in irritation.

He gently sat her down at the table, as if imploring her to calm herself, and walked over to the desk and fetched her some ink and parchment. As he quietly moved around the room, she remained there with her face buried in her hands, head spinning.

Perhaps Luciano was right, and the babies growing inside her had inherited all of her ill-tempered nature -she felt much more impatient than before.