Kintsugi

Chapter 1

As the contractions wracked her body, Daisy's exquisite features twisted in a grimace of agony. Her long, silky hair, once a rich, dark brown, now clung to her damp forehead in tangled strands, framing a face that seemed to be crumbling like a delicate flower in a fierce storm.

Her eyes, once bright as stars, now dimly shone like embers smothered by the oppressive weight of her circumstances. The elegant nose, the high cheekbones, and the petite lips were still evident, but the pain and despair had etched deep lines on her forehead and between her eyebrows, like the first cracks in a porcelain vase.

Daisy's slender fingers, once deft and graceful, now gripped the bed rails with a desperate ferocity, her knuckles white as she pushed against the unyielding metal. Her voice, once melodious and full of laughter, was now reduced to a raw, anguished cry, shattering the sterile silence of the delivery room.

"No...no...please!" she begged, her words punctuated by ragged gasps and sobs. "I don't want this! I won't do this!"

The midwife's calm, reassuring voice was a gentle breeze on a summer's day, a stark contrast to Daisy's tempest-tossed anguish. "You're doing great, Daisy. Just a little longer. The baby's almost here."

But Daisy's beauty, like the flower that had withered, seemed to be fading with each passing moment, consumed by the all-encompassing pain and the desperation that had been building for months. As she struggled to bring this life into the world, she felt like a petal torn from its stem, fragile and broken.

As the door creaked open, a tall, dark figure loomed in the entrance, his presence like a shadow cast over the room. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the space until they landed on the woman lying pale and vulnerable in the bed. A sly smile spread across his face, like a predator savoring its prey.

He stepped forward, his black boots echoing off the walls, his long coat billowing behind him like a dark cloud. His features were chiseled, sharp, and cruel, with a nose that seemed to hook downward, giving him a perpetually disdainful gaze. His eyes gleamed with a sinister light, as if he relished the woman's weakness.

As he approached the bed, his gaze roamed over the woman's fragile form, his eyes lingering on her pale skin, her tangled hair, and her parted lips. He looked at her as if she were a trophy he had won, a prize to be claimed and possessed.

"Ah, my dear wife," he said, his voice dripping with malice, "I see you've finally delivered."

The midwife, a frail woman with a kind face, trembled as she spoke, "A son and a daughter, my lord."

The man's face lit up with a wicked grin, "Ah, a son! My legacy is secured!" He laughed loudly, his voice echoing off the walls, as if he had finally claimed a prize he had long coveted.

But the midwife's next words were like a dagger to his heart, "I'm afraid the son was stillborn, my lord."

The man's expression changed in an instant, his face contorting in rage and disbelief. He looked as if that fragile woman had given him the biggest defeat of his life. He became angry, his eyes blazing with fury, and threw the tub of water on the table, shattering the ceramic and sending water splashing everywhere.

"You foolish woman!" he bellowed, his voice dripping with venom.

His gaze landed on the tiny, helpless daughter, lying swaddled in a nearby cradle. He picked her up carelessly, his long fingers closing around her like a vice.

"This one is useless to me," he snarled, his eyes filled with hatred. "I'll make sure she pays for her brother's death."

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving the midwife and the unconscious woman in a state of terror. The air was heavy with the scent of malevolence, and the shadows seemed to writhe and twist on the walls, as if darkness itself had come to life.

The man's anger was palpable as he entered his room, his face twisted in a scowl. He rang the bell on the side table, the sound echoing through the room like a summons to doom. A few moments later, a kind-looking maid entered, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

He thrust the daughter into her arms, his movements rough and careless. "Take this thing away and make sure she never meets her mother." he growled, his voice dripping with malice. "Useless thing."

The maid's eyes widened in shock, her face pale as she took in the tiny, helpless child. But as she looked into the daughter's fragile face, something stirred within her. Motherly love, long dormant, began to bloom in her heart.

She gazed at the child as if she reminded her of someone, perhaps a loved one from her past. With gentle hands, she carefully wrapped the child in her arms, cradling her as if she were a precious treasure.

Without a word, the maid turned and headed to the servant quarters, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions. She entered her small room, the child still clutched in her arms, and lay her down on the bed.

With tender care, she opened her cabinet and took out a soft, white cloth. She gently unwrapped the child from the rough cloth she was wrapped in and replaced it with the soft one, her hands moving with a gentle reverence.

As she looked at the child, now swaddled in the soft cloth, a sense of purpose washed over her. She would protect this tiny being, love her, and raise her as her own. The child's fate might have been sealed by the cruel man, but the maid was determined to give her a new life, one filled with love, kindness, and hope.

Anna's eyes widened as the baby's cries grew louder, her tiny face scrunched up in distress. Anna's mind raced, realizing the baby was hungry. Panic set in as she frantically searched her memory for a solution.

Then, a glimmer of hope emerged. She recalled a lady on the floor who had a baby of her own and might have some formula powder. Anna swiftly grabbed a few pillows, gently placing them on either side of the baby, creating a makeshift bed. She rushed out of her room, racing across the corridor to the lady's door.

Anna knocked urgently, her heart pounding in her chest.

As she stood before the door, her eyes pleaded for it to open, for someone to step through and rescue her from the situation.

To be continued