Episode 74
“Rations.”
Food was distributed once a day at the camp. Low-quality black bread and soup were the usual fare, but occasionally they handed out potatoes or carrots.
When the bland, single-portion meal was handed out, even the prisoners who had lost all strength and lay listlessly would scramble and brawl bodily to receive even one more piece of bread first.
But Rijan had never once stood in the ration line. She lacked the strength to even rise, and even if she had, she had no confidence she could overcome the other prisoners’ hostility. Thus, Rijan and some other prisoners whose health had deteriorated had to starve straight through until the guards distributed the leftovers.
Most of the time, she couldn’t even eat that due to the pain in her throat. She could force down a few gulps of water or soup while suppressing the agony, but she couldn’t bring herself to put bread or vegetables that needed chewing into her mouth. Because of this, the food the guards had bothered to set aside for her was often snatched away by other prisoners.
“She won’t last long looking like that anyway. The rest of us need to eat to survive. That’s the only way we’ll be sent to forced labor.”
The prisoners justified their theft by looking at Rijan’s condition.
According to bits of information overheard, the prisoners faced one of two fates. They would either be sentenced to death after a trial or sent to lifetime forced labor in mines and similar places.
Moreover, though they called it a trial, it was in reality a one-sided notification. The punishment didn’t vary according to the severity of the crime; rather, fate was divided between those too ill to be sent to forced labor and those with enough stamina for it. It was said that very occasionally, families would bribe the guards to smuggle a prisoner out, but nearly everyone dragged into such a squalid camp was from a background and status that precluded gathering such wealth in the first place.
Furthermore, speculation that a trial would be held soon grew dominant, seeing as the camp was overflowing with inmates. Once the camp filled beyond capacity, space was cleared through death sentences and forced labor assignments, only to be filled again with newly captured criminals.
Even among fellow prisoners, Rijan—having committed a grave crime and been unable to recover for days—was openly treated as a condemned prisoner awaiting execution, even before her sentence was passed.
“Do you think they’d let that brat live in Valdemara? Judging by the state she was in when she was dragged here, she’s a goner with no lifeline. Rather, they’re probably hesitating on how to make an example out of her, which is why they haven’t killed her yet.”
“And she can’t even talk. Skin and bones, no strength. At this rate, she’ll just be dragged off and killed. What can you do.”
The camp was not a place where people exercised social decorum, concerned for the listener’s feelings. Everyone spoke bluntly: you’ll die like this, that one will die like that. At first, she couldn’t adapt, but as she listened, she gradually grew numb to the shock. There were advantages, in a way. Because they spoke without filtering what should or shouldn’t be said to someone’s face, it was easy to pick up information.
Rijan often repeated their words to herself.
I will become a condemned prisoner.
The day the guards lead me out of here will be the day my life ends.
At times, she seemed to resign herself and come to terms with it; at other times, an indescribable fear surged over her suddenly. Her heart raced so fast she wondered if it might burst.
Then she would think of Ezekiel.
That man who had suffered the same emotions long before her, and for far longer.
As she traced her memories and sketched his image in her mind, countless impulses tormented Rijan.
She missed him terribly. But she was so afraid to face him. She was endlessly sorry. She wanted to beg for forgiveness, but she was terrified because this was not a sin that could be atoned for with a mere apology.
And sometimes… very rarely… she wanted to be honest.
That I am that Rose.
But she knew full well that these were words she must never speak. It was a mercy that her throat was injured, that she couldn’t speak. The means to communicate with him had been forcibly severed.
When her mind was so consumed by thoughts, sleep would not come. Only when the sky turned blue with dawn did Rijan finally manage to close her eyes. Even then, it was mostly a light sleep.
It was always the blue hour of dawn when, without fail, she would drift off while watching the moon slowly shift its position through a window no bigger than her palm.
Rijan felt something ominous and opened her eyes. From her abdomen, where a throbbing pain always lingered, came a sensation markedly different from before.
A pulse throbbed throughout her entire body. Thump, thump. The tremors shaking her limbs were too loud and too fast. It was an ominous speed.
Ah…
Rijan opened her mouth wide. It felt as if a sharp, three-pronged hook was scraping viciously through her stomach. An utterly inexplicable agony slashed through the inside of her body, from top to bottom, then again from top to bottom.
The pain was so horrible that her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to scream, but no voice could come out.
Suddenly, a searing heat spread between her legs.
Her mind was hazy, unable to properly assess the situation. Rijan fumbled and touched her thigh over her clothes. Her palm grew slick, hot, and damp.
What is this…?
Rijan opened her blurry eyes wide.
The sight was surreal. Fresh, crimson blood was staining her stiff, discolored hem. Streams of blood flowed down her thighs, hotly soaking her calves.
The fishy smell of blood woke the sleeping prisoners.
“What’s that smell? Where’s that weird smell coming from… Ugh, damn it!”
Someone discovered the blood trickling along the grooves in the stone floor and hurriedly moved away.
Rijan quickly huddled deeper into the corner. In a camp where running water was available only on designated days and supplies were not properly distributed, this was yet another taboo. Even as the pain wrung her stomach and made breathing impossible, she hid her body first, afraid of the hostile reactions the other prisoners might show.
“What’s with that blood? Is it, you know, that thing women get? Their period?”
“Mister, say something that makes sense. If women spilled blood like this every month, they’d all die. But why the hell is she suddenly bleeding like that here?”
“Isn’t she having a miscarriage right now?”
A middle-aged woman sharing the room stared intently at Rijan, who was gasping, her face deathly pale.
The prisoners fell silent for a moment.
“What’s falling?”
“She was pregnant. She’s scrawny and doesn’t look like she’d carry a baby easily, but if she were sick, she would’ve been bleeding from the start… Women who’ve given birth can tell with one look.”
The middle-aged woman placed her hand on Rijan’s stomach. Rijan tried to brush it away but lacked the strength.
“What do you know by touching?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor, what can I do? But there’s no flesh on her belly at all. Like this, even if the baby tried to stay attached to the womb, it couldn’t.”
“No wonder. I thought it was strange how she clutched her stomach every day.”
A miscarriage? That can’t be…
It seemed impossible, but the abnormal stomach pain she had suffered continuously all this time and the bright red blood now dripping steadily between her legs felt somehow ominous.
When was the last time she had menstruated?
She had had it irregularly a few times at the mansion, but recently, there had been none. She had thought it natural. She had been constantly anxious and on edge, never knowing when her true identity would be discovered.
When the war broke out, many women skipped their regular monthly periods. Indeed, during the time Milena Girls’ School was caught up on the front lines, many of the teachers and female students stopped menstruating, and Rijan had been one of them.
She had instinctively learned then that excessive tension and anxiety could stop a woman’s menstruation.
Even after leaving Derosa’s mansion, the tension of survival continued. Rather, having abandoned the safe identity of Rose and returned to her original appearance as Rijan, the fear had become even sharper. So she hadn’t doubted the reason for not menstruating.
Moreover, for a while, Rijan had diligently used lemons for contraception.
There was no way she could have gotten pregnant so easily…
…Was there?
As she prepared for their parting, unable to control her melancholy heart, there had been more and more days when she forgot about contraception. And Ezekiel had always finished inside her.
She knew the reason he hadn’t used separate contraception was because he was prepared to take responsibility for her and their child.
But now… right now…
The bleeding wouldn’t stop. Her body temperature plummeted from the severe blood loss. She was so cold. Her teeth chattered from the chills.
So she really had been pregnant…
Rijan gazed helplessly at the stream of blood endlessly pooling on the floor.