After He Killed My Child

Synopsis

The general personally brought me a bowl of medicine meant to protect my pregnancy, and I drank it without the slightest suspicion. On the day I lost the child, he stood at the gate of my courtyard, one arm supporting his concubine. He said calmly, "You've always been frail. Recover first. We can speak of children later." He spoke so lightly, as though what had been lost was no more than a lamp gone out. I did not cry. I did not rage. From that day on, I entered the kitchen and prepared every meal for him with my own hands. By the time the concubine was eight months pregnant, the entire manor was draped in decorations and festivity. Then suddenly, the royal physician dropped to his knees. He said, "General, you will never father another child." I brushed a hand lightly across my abdomen and lifted my eyes to meet his. I said, "You killed my child. So I made sure your line would end with you."