Cursed Love - Chapter 9
Was it not enough because of my resentment and hardship? God, where is the end of your harshness? Why didn’t you show some mercy? From the moment she was born to her death, Delphine was given only excruciating pain. Instead of taking my love away, Delphine wished for a safe birth. Instead of taking my eyes.
I earnestly begged to be allowed to live without blood from a traitor’s family. Somehow, my daughter died young after living a more terribly twisted life than I did. The child’s daughter, Delphine, didn’t even allow that much life. Is this pain all over? But the wicked who plunged me into this pit of death feel neither cold nor hunger, and this winter, wasting firewood and wrapped in fur, our existence is fading away.
None of the sinners will go unpunished, and we will be forgotten as pitiful lives crushed like this. No. It shouldn’t be like that. Never. Still no angel came out to meet me, no one listened to me… My soul was throwing up the resentment of the years gone by in spite of evil.
If anyone hears it, I hope it corrects the most painful things in my life. I cried and cried. After losing everything like this, a pitiful little girl who had nothing to rely on but my existence would follow me and even give up her own life. If you have been so cruel to me, please punish the culprits of this tragedy with your ruthlessness. Even though you took away the happiness and love I should have enjoyed, to my daughter and her daughter.
In the end, you didn’t show even the smallest amount of compassion, so I cry out over and over again at this resentment. If you give me another chance I won’t love anyone, I don’t want a single moment of joy, and I won’t be greedy for anyone in my life. Please, please bring everything back to what it was before the beginning of this tragedy.
- Coming Back to Life.
Before I even opened my eyes, the first thing I felt was a sweet scent. A dizzying sweet smell that penetrates the nostrils. Such a fragrant flavor. I’ve definitely smelled it someday, but it’s too far away.
A piece of vague memory from my childhood, when every moment of my life was warm and beautiful, swept past my sight without opening my eyes.
“Miss Irenia. You lovely late sleeper. You should get up and have a freshly baked brioche.”
Miss Irenia? It used to be called that. A long time ago, until I was 20 years old, everyone sang me warmly with love throughout my childhood days.
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