I, Violette von Emmental, came to the House of Emmental as a bride at eighteen.
Soon after, I bore our eldest son, Cain, then our second son, Alex. With heirs secured, no stepmothers or aunts could complain, and our days passed peacefully.
But deep down, I still longed for a daughter. I had grown up surrounded by my sisters and mother, and those happy memories never left me.
Perhaps that's why, when Alex was little and so pretty, I dressed him in girls' clothes and tied his hair.
Even now he wears it long, perhaps out of habit. It suits him, so there's no harm.
When the boys grew old enough to need less of me, I found myself expecting again. I dared to hope—perhaps this time, a girl?
But the child's kicks were strong, restless, wild. Even before birth, I knew. And indeed, I gave birth to our third son, Fret.
Time passed, and I conceived again. To my delight, my milk sibling Liza—my maid since I came from my family's home—was also with child. She had married a retainer not long before.
We laughed together. "What if our children are born the same day?" I said. It felt like something out of a story.
It was not so dramatic, but reality proved more like a tale than I could have imagined.
This pregnancy was gentler than the others. Less sickness, softer movements.
Not like Fret, who had made me cry out, "Stop it!" with his kicks. This child's stirring felt like a tender voice saying, I'm here. I'm well.
Still, the times were uneasy. Noble children were being kidnapped again and again.
We had three already, and I worried constantly—especially about Fret, who loved to sneak from the mansion to play. I could do little in my condition, so I begged my husband to increase the guards.
At last, my term came. Liza had already gone on maternity leave.
I teased her, "If your baby comes first and your milk flows well, you'll be my wet nurse, won't you?" She laughed. "You're rushing things, Madam! But I'll give birth safely and be back." That was the last time I saw her.
News soon reached me: she had borne a daughter, but after long labor she had not woken. I prayed for her recovery, and my heart ached for the poor infant.
I sent word: Our household has secured a wet nurse. Until your wife recovers, let us share her. Liza's husband bowed in gratitude. I was told our nurse gave the child milk that very day. Soon after, my own waters broke.
By the fourth time, childbirth was easier. My husband was away on estate inspection, as he had been when Alex was born. I hardly minded—labor leaves no room to dwell on such things.
What hurt was that Liza was not by my side. She had always been so good at urging me on. I thought of her as the pains wracked me.
Still, within half a day, I bore a daughter. She was so beautiful she seemed to shine.
Her first cry filled me with relief, and when I held her cleansed body in my arms, joy overwhelmed me. Words failed.
And I realized—girls felt different. Boys were like full waterskins, firm and heavy in the arms.
A girl was softer, like one only partly filled, fragile, yielding, as though she might break. I held her close, marveling.
That night my husband returned, and we adored her together, whispering over her name, whose features she had, how she might be presented to society.
At length, the maid and wet nurse carried her to the next room. Head Maid Maasa draped a robe around me. "Madam, you must rest tonight." I nodded and lay down.
Sleep took me quickly. Tomorrow, we'll choose her name. Tomorrow, I'll introduce her to her brothers.
But in the early dawn, unease stirred me. The house outside was noisy. I rang the bell, and at last Maasa appeared, her face pale. "What is it?" I asked.
She trembled. "The young lady... she's gone. Taken."
Darkness swallowed me.
When I woke, the truth still wouldn't take shape. I screamed instead. Why my daughter? Is she safe? Is she hungry? Is she crying? Did I fail her? Whose plot is this?
My mind circled in a black whirlpool. I wept until no more tears would come.
Time lost meaning—was it one day? Three? A month?
More? The world had turned colorless. Hours dragged, yet blurred. I thought, This must be what madness feels like, and the thought almost comforted me.
At times, I broke down in fits. Again and again, I prayed: God, return my daughter to me.
Notes:
• Violette - Spica’s step-mother. A noblewoman of striking beauty, known for her violet eyes.
• Alex - Second step-brother, seven years older. Suffers from the rare Monaza Disease, which robs both sight and holy power, but shines as a gifted musician and artist.
• Cain - Eldest step-brother, eight years older. A magical genius, often traveling between home and the national academy. The heir.
• Fret - Third step-brother, five years older. Energetic, sword-loving, and determined to become a knight.
• Liza - Spica's real mother. Violette von Emmental’s lifelong maid and milk sibling, later wife to a retainer. Gave birth to a daughter the same time as Violette, but fell into a fatal illness after long labor and never recovered. Her infant, Spica, was nursed by House Emmental’s wet nurse and soon taken in as their own, tying Liza’s bloodline to the Emmental family forever.
• Maasa - Head maid of House Emmental. Loyal and composed, she oversaw the household’s women and servants. It was Maasa who tended to Lady Violette during childbirth, then delivered the devastating news at dawn: the newborn daughter had been taken. She stands as both caretaker and silent witness to the family’s tragedy.