Coretta crouched down to the floor, as a pool of blood wet her hands, bleeding as though a dam had been broken.
She stumbled gaspingly in the trembling wake of the irrevocable event that had just transpired, grappling with the insurmountable weight of its consequences. The tide of her tears washed down like a meticulously flowing hurricane, an unstoppable force that ravaged her soul.
The faculties of her senses seemed to elude her, blurring her perception of reality and numbing her ability to react. Her mind was shrouded in a dense mist of confusion and disbelief, reluctant to acknowledge the severity of what had just occurred.
Gently quivering, she lowered her bloody hands down onto the hilt of the dagger that was adorned with the ornate crest of a fearsome dragon - one that had belonged to her husband. With one deep breath, she leaned back ever so slightly in an attempt to steady her involuntarily tensed posture.
"Aargh!! Ahhh!!" she screamed uncontrollably, her voice reverberating like a wounded animal's helpless howl.
"Oh, dear Gracious Lord!! Have mercy," she sobbed inconsolably, her emotions ranging from fear to disbelief as she struggled to come to terms with the reality of what she had just done.
An intense discomfort from her waist surged aggressively, threatening to overpower her completely. With difficulty, she slowly smacked her hands together and towed the dagger out of her stabbed stomach without failing to scream from the intense pain.
Left alone in the room, Coretta wept openly and uncontrollably, her grief and desperation overwhelming her senses. Her child's survival was critical, a fact she could not make peace with.
"He must survive!!" she screamed, her voice choking with emotion as the weight of her fears weighed heavily on her.
Her thoughts quickly latched on to Mr. Lothbrok, the doctor who could save her precious child. Her desperate pleas for his immediate aid were urgent, and all-consuming as she struggled to come to terms with the devastating aftermath of her actions.
"Blythe," she sobbed helplessly, her call for support undisguised in its intention.
Where is she?
"Please, save me. Please!!" Her voice echoed into the emptiness of an ignored chamber, leaving an unflinching resolve to find safety from forces obscured with inexplicable fear.
"Ahhh!" Coretta suddenly jolted upright, stiffly and with great pain evident in her expression.
"Please, hang on, my son. I cannot, I must not lose you," she muttered, determination ringing in every word, as she stood resolute in her efforts to keep her child alive.
Suddenly, without taking a single step forward, the doors to the bedroom crashed open in a loud clamor, the force of which caused the handle to snap clean in two.
Coretta recoiled with horror, letting out a sharp hiss of fear as she caught sight of the familiar set of brown shoes. Her sobs grew louder as she realized it was him, the one she had been dreading all along, and that his detached demeanor only added to her vulnerability.
The pain in her body only seemed to quicken, exacerbating her mounting fears as her heart continued to pound.
"Damn it all, are you insane? You ungrateful wretch!" The Duke unleashed a torrent of angry invectives, incensed by the situation that had unfolded before him.
Despite his faultlessly combed hair having been disheveled in the rush to reach her in time, his countenance was wrought with unbridled fury as he looked upon Coretta in contempt.
She flinched under the force of his glare, bleeding profusely and fighting to remain conscious in the face of overwhelming pain.
"Have you lost your mind? Did you even attempt to harm my child? If Lucille had not reached out to me on time... You have gone completely insane!" Duke Ansel's fury was palpable, his gaze burning with intense anger towards Coretta.
Originally scheduled for another week, he had unexpectedly received a letter that had cut his trip short and precipitated his appearance here.
Coretta bit her lip, struggling for breath in the face of rapidly diminishing life. Her golden-grey eyes met her husband's, brimming with tears of intense anguish.
"Harm my child? I would never! She would, Ansel. Your mistress. She was the one who stabbed me. Why would I ever want to take the life of our baby?" Her words trembled, her voice full of pain and desperation as she pleaded her innocence.
After carefully assessing her thoughts, she exclaimed at him with a deep sense of understanding. "You have never battled for me! Every single time, you defend those lascivious mistresses of yours! Haven't my acts of devotion towards you been enough, Ansel? I have cherished you and indulged your endless ambition for power. I sacrificed my own identity and agency simply to please you. Surely this ought to count for something?
Furthermore, our child's life is in danger right now, and instead of acting to save it, you dare to accuse me? Do you have no heart in your chest? How dare you condemn me! What a nerve you have..." Her voice trailed off into a fragile cough, and blood oozed out of the corner of her mouth.
"You foolish woman! Summon the physician immediately!" Duke Ansel thundered at the guards standing behind him, who promptly set off to fulfill his orders.
"You still do not believe me, do you?" Coretta asked with a deep, heart-rending sadness that seemed to convey a hopeless resignation.
Deep down, she had always been aware of the truth, yet held out hope - hope that their love could triumph overall, hope that their child's life could be spared from the bitter animosity and betrayal that pervaded their marriage.
"Of course, I don't believe you! There have been discernible signs of irrationality and derangement in your behavior. How could I have been so naive as to grant you that freedom? Now it's going to cost me my child - my son! The heir to the Loughty family estate! A grand vehicle of my worldly success!" his voice trailed off with a fervid intensity that sent shivers down Coretta's spine.
She was utterly speechless, struck mute by the enormity of his betrayal and raging disappointment. She rocked back and forth, mourning pitifully, her eyes betraying a deep pain that bled through every fiber of her soul.
"If my child is destined to become an encumbrance, I would much rather he had never been born. I pray that he dies, along with me!" she screamed in an outburst of despair and helplessness.
"You ungrateful woman! I showed you the love and affection that your own family failed to give you. And now, this is how you repay me? Coretta, haven't I done more than enough for you? Can you not even maintain a semblance of sanity in the face of adversity? You talk of gratitude, yet what have you done to show any in return?" Duke Ansel vented his anger and frustration at her deceit.
A chasm of misunderstanding and malice now divided them. Duke Ansel approached Coretta and carried her gently in his arms, regret etched on his face. "I loved you from the depths of my soul, Coretta. However, we are not meant to be together. You need help for your suicidal tendencies. Besides, you will face the full force of the law for attempting to eliminate the heir to the throne; your son."
"Kill me, please," Coretta implored in anguish, holding on to a feeble thread of hope. She could not go on living in a world where the love of her life had turned his back on her and believed only his mistress and not his wife.
"End my life and save him," she pleaded with him fervently. "I will give up everything, even my beating heart if it ensures that our son is happy, safe, and cherished by you."
Duke Ansel's heart was heavy with remorseful pity as he held even tighter to his once-beloved wife, who had now become his sworn adversary.
"I regret that this sorrowful path has come between us, Coretta. Our flames of love have been snuffed out by the tempestuous winds of fate. But know this: No matter what happens, you will always have a place in my heart. Your son will always be a part of me as well." He spoke softly, tenderly but with the immeasurable weight of fate forever hanging over him.
"The physician is here, my lord," the guard announced to Duke Ansel.
"Let him enter!" Duke Ansel replied, holding Coretta even tighter to him, a parting of their souls forever imminent. The future life of their son, the heir to the Loughty family, hung by a razor-thin margin- a perilous consequence of their love-turned-betrayal.
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As time passed, months rolled by since that heartrending incident. However, Coretta's grief refused to abate. In the past few days, the once-beautiful woman had become a shadow of herself, neglecting her meals and unintentionally losing weight day after day.
Following the doctor's pronouncement of their grandson's death, the Loughty family, disgusted and profoundly saddened by Coretta's actions, had her locked away indeterminately, entombing her within the four walls of a dark, shrouded cell. Heartbreakingly, they crowded in on the day of her child's burial and unrecognized, not allowing her any final respects to be paid to the only tie she had left to her beloved husband, Duke Ansel.
Not long after the Duke's infant's funeral, his mother, the widow Lady Estrella Capet Loughty triumphantly ascended to the family's estate, keenly sorry and anguished from an extensive distance by the untimely demise of the newborn child. She mourned her loss alongside her anguished son, alive with maternal love but also stealth tempered with a bitter darkness. Lady Estrella was a shrewd, cunning 49-year-old woman who would not spare anyone who hurt the ones she loved, no matter who they were or how they tried to worm their way past her protection.
Upon hearing the damnable reason behind the tragedy, Lady Estrella was consumed with utter rage and spared no time or thought in throwing Coretta into a merciless prison cell, uncaring even as the woman wept before her beseechingly.
As the whispered echoes of the Loughty family's heartbreaking misfortune carried through the countryside, even the far-reaching Northern and Western regions of the kingdom were alive with tales of their tragedy.
Even King William Peter Althan X, personally came to visit his closest friend and ally, Duke Ansel, offering him his heartfelt condolences in these dark times.
Alas, while everyone was eager and vested in lending ears of warmth and kind condolences to the very-framed Duke, who has lost his little light to death and his wife to the sins of the flesh, no one spared a single thought for poor, twisted and tortured Coretta. All alone in her walled world of darkness and starved emotions, she prayed for the unholy flames of Hell itself to tear her soul apart and burn every fraction of her within its stygian flames, wishing for a haven from the pervasive, unyielding pain that wracked within her seemingly soulless body.
Her spirit broken by the loss of the only bright light in her life, Coretta sank into a rich and consuming melancholy, right then and there making the perennially sorrowful vow never to shed another tear for as long as she drew breath upon life or in death. From that day to the end of her fleeting mortal coil, Coretta dedicated her shattered heart and numb spirit to never allow this unforgiving world disdainfully willing to leave broken women behind to see her shed a single tear again. And so it was; Coretta never groaned in unambiguous pain before anyone again, whether from afflictions of the body or grievances of the heart. Away from those who'd benefit from her misfortunes' detail, away from her own pain - Coretta wept no more.