TSMT 07

Chapter 7 – The Birthday I Faced Again

Giscard shoved Diana against the wall the moment he entered the room. His eyes bored into hers. She, struggling to suppress the immense rage surging inside her, spoke to him.

“It wasn’t me.”

“It wasn’t?”

“It wasn’t.”

“What wasn’t?”

“I didn’t kill them.”

“But you wanted them dead, didn’t you? You hoped they would die.”

“…”

“My lady is ever so honest.”

With a look almost amused, Giscard stroked Diana’s hair—then suddenly gripped it tightly. She bit her lip hard.

“What is it? Did it suddenly disgust you to be carrying the child of a monster’s spawn?”

“…”

“Of course, it must have. So you got rid of the child. Your coldness, your cruelty… I can understand that.”

“…”

He seemed to have gone completely mad. His hands frantically caressed Diana’s stomach—where the child had once been—then he slammed his fist into the wall as though he couldn’t bear it.

“I… I waited for that child for so long! So that you would…! You stupid girl! Just trying to protect that pathetic pride of yours, aren’t you?!”

“It wasn’t me—”

“Even if it wasn’t, you failed to protect them! Not even a single child!”

Diana laughed, incredulous. She hadn’t even been given the power to protect anything, had been left to rot like a dog—and now he demanded to know why she hadn’t been able to keep the child safe?

“Did I ever say I wanted one?”

At that, Giscard shut his mouth. He had never treated her like a real wife, so why such outrage over losing a child?

“What—were you planning to litter offspring with me?”

“…”

“Have I ever once said your revenge was unjust? I’ve always accepted it—always!”

“…”

“And now you talk about a child? A child? What—were you trying to play happy family with me? Wasn’t it all just to cause me pain?”

“…”

“Why—shouldn’t I enjoy your suffering? That’s what you do! Yes, it was horrible—utterly horrible! The thought of your child in my belly was revolting!”

Diana screamed. Whether he believed her or not didn’t matter anymore. She would rather he misunderstood. Whether she took the medicine or not, Giscard had already decided to condemn her.

“I hate it, I hate it, I really hate it!”

Seeing his momentarily dazed face, she wanted to stomp it into the ground. The grip on her hair loosened.

“My life with you is hell! This life is hell! Just kill me! Please kill me!”

“…”

“Please, kill me now! I can’t—I won’t—I hate this! I hate it all!”

She shrieked like someone possessed. She had lived every day in fear of an attack, her nerves always drawn taut to the breaking point, and though she told herself the revenge against her was justified, she couldn’t help but hate the one who had created this nightmare.

“Please… just kill me!”

She sobbed, shoving at his chest. Better to die—better to end it here. Life wasn’t worth living.

“Alexa—that was her name?”

“…!”

Diana flinched and looked up. Her younger sister—sent away when the war broke out. She had heard nothing since, but believed she was safe.

Looking down at her, Giscard said,

“For her sake, you can’t die.”

“…Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He said it softly, almost gently. Diana, unable to stop herself, struck him. He took the slap without resistance.

“You disgusting monster.”

She ground the words out between her teeth. A monster—this man was a monster. They should never have met, never have crossed paths again.

“Still not as bad as a mother who killed her own child.”

He was obsessed with revenge, and she—his chosen instrument—had long since gone mad herself.

After the incident with the child, Diana’s standing all but vanished. Whispers spread through the social circles that she had killed her baby, and no one dared speak to her.

Even the clergy who had once shown her pity now averted their eyes. When she went to pray, they would cough awkwardly, glare at her, and leave, as if she were tainted.

Since that day, Giscard had never visited her chambers again, avoided all meals with her, and told her to quietly rest even during state functions.

It was practically house arrest.

The Queen’s Palace was so silent she could hear the flutter of insect wings.

Diana’s eyes were hollow.

There was no reason to live. She wanted to die. But for Alexa’s sake, she had to endure. The girl was innocent.

She could never forgive Lady LeBiang. She had wished for the death of the woman who killed the child she neither loved nor hated—but she had no strength to exact revenge.

Looking at her tormentor, Diana remembered her days as Lady Diana Brienne of Panborough, trembling in bitterness. The woman possessed everything Diana had lost. That made her all the more hateful, as did the fact that she had taken Diana’s things and ensnared her in the trap of a monstrous man.

Naturally, she also hated Giscard—who hadn’t believed her and had spared the woman who had killed their child.

“My child… I will forget you,” Diana murmured, stroking her belly with numb hands. Their accusations weren’t entirely wrong—part of her had wished the child gone.

“A mother unworthy of you—if I remember and cherish you, wouldn’t you be unable to leave?”

She gave a hollow laugh. Perhaps it was just cowardly escape. And so, she buried the child in her heart.

News of Alexa came to Diana by sheer chance. She cried for a long time—here in the silent, deserted Queen’s Palace, she could weep without restraint.

She had no will to live.

And yet, somehow, she remained alive. She didn’t know why.

Then, her sworn enemy, Lady LeBiang, came to visit.

“Your Majesty, please forgive my sin.”

Forgive the sin of killing her child? Diana stared at her. The woman smiled faintly, looking at her with a pitiful expression.

“I am carrying His Majesty’s child.”

Diana’s expression froze. The lady, beautiful enough to be treasured in one’s eyes, spoke sweetly.

“I’ll free you from that empty title of Queen.”

“…You—how dare you!”

Blood rushed to Diana’s face. The murderer of her child—pregnant with the very father’s seed? LeBiang laughed, delighted by Diana’s first display of raw fury, and spat her venom.

“Diana Brienne, the fallen lady of Panborough—you didn’t think you could enslave His Majesty and still live a peaceful life, did you?”

Diana was speechless.

“Shameless woman. You’ll crawl like a worm, living a life begging for death.”

The lady’s eyes gleamed with malice—then she smiled.

“So I’ll take that seat now. You’ve sat too long in a place that never suited you.”

“…”

“Don’t worry. His Majesty will never cast you out of the palace. He said so himself.”

When she left, Diana stared blankly at the sky.

A flicker of hatred for Giscard rose in her chest—but the storm of emotion soon subsided.

She did not rail against him for fathering a child with her enemy, nor curse the woman who had killed hers. Only one thought filled her mind.

Ah, now I can die.

Now it’s fine to die.

There’s no other way but to die.

So let’s die.

At twenty-five, Diana chose death. She tried to throw herself before Giscard, then drank poison instead, dying in his arms.

It was the end of their long, bitter fate.

When she opened her eyes, Diana stared blankly at her surroundings. This wasn’t heaven, as she had hoped—it was somewhere familiar.

Panborough. The Brienne Ducal Estate. Her own room.

The place she had once longed to return to more than anything.

Had her suicide failed? But how could she be here, when this place had burned to the ground? In a daze, she reached for the vase on her bedside table. Her hand was small—too small. A child’s hand.

She wriggled her fingers. They were indeed the hands of a girl. Shocked, she ran to the mirror.

“Oh…”

She tilted her head, perplexed. Her cheeks, still round with baby fat, were flushed like watercolor paint. Her well-kept hair was tied with a red ribbon, and she wore a dark lilac dress.

She touched the mirror.

“Happy twelfth birthday, Anne!”

The door burst open, and someone entered. Diana ran to them without thinking.

It was her brother. Her beloved brother—alive.

Ah… you’re alive!

And so began her second life.