The night was quiet… but its silence was suffocating.
A gentle breeze stirred the heavy curtains in the palace corridors, and the sky outside was covered in gray clouds, as if it shared Louisa's unease.
A servant knocked lightly on her door, then opened it immediately without waiting.
"The king wants you… now. Third floor, last room on the left," he said dryly, then vanished as if he were never there.
Louisa sat on her bed for a moment, staring at the floor, her heart slowing, then pounding painfully.
This was it…
The moment she had tried so hard not to think about since signing that cursed document.
She put on a simple shawl and secured her long dress tightly, though it was pointless. Then, step by step, she walked down the long corridor, as if the ground refused to carry her.
---
She stopped before the large door leading to the king's private suite.
A heavy black door, engraved with a crown and an ice-covered dragon beneath it… the royal emblem.
She pushed it gently; it opened without a sound…
Even the wood seemed too afraid to creak.
The room was enormous, every part of it expensive.
The walls draped in dark fabrics, candlelight casting trembling shadows on the marble floor.
Inside, the king sat on a wide sofa, one leg crossed over the other, holding his usual glass of wine.
He didn't look at her right away. He merely gestured with his hand toward the room and said, without raising his voice:
"Close the door behind you."
She did so slowly, then turned and remained standing in place.
"Come closer," he said again, this time looking directly at her.
She walked silently, breathless, until she stood a few steps from him.
He raised the glass to his lips, sipped, and said in a softly chilling tone:
"You look more beautiful every time I see you…"
Then added:
"You'll finally be mine tonight, after our first night together… with your consent of course—after signing the contract."
He tried to make it sound natural, like a wedding night.
But his eyes spoke a different truth… twisted, sick, filled with control.
Louisa remained silent. She didn't respond, didn't flee, just stood there.
Her eyes were lost on the floor.
The king approached her slowly, placing his glass aside, his voice growing softer with each step:
"You know… I don't enjoy dolls that talk too much. Your silence makes it… more exciting."
He now stood directly in front of her, so close she could feel his breath.
He raised his hand to her face, but she turned her head instinctively.
He paused.
Smiled.
"Still some pride left in you… Good. I don't want you completely broken—at least, not yet."
He grabbed her chin firmly, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were filled with fear, but she didn't cry.
She didn't beg.
Even as she teetered on the edge of collapse, she didn't give him that satisfaction.
She trembled… but stood her ground.
He whispered:
"This won't take long tonight… I just want to leave my mark. Come."
Then he led her slowly to the large bed in the center of the room, speaking as if to a kitten—not a living woman.
The entire room bore witness to the moment:
The candles, the curtains, the floor, the large mirror on the wall.
And as she walked behind him… her legs barely moved. Inside her, a scream ran wild, collapsing—but her body remained still.
Seconds… minutes… hours… no one knew how long passed.
When it ended, his voice was calm, as if he'd finished a daily ritual:
"You may leave."
She stood up very slowly, gathered what dignity she had left, and walked out.
---
Her steps in the corridor were staggering… she had neither the poise of a royal maid nor the modesty of a simple girl.
She walked as if emerging from a battlefield…
A battle she never chose to fight.
Her dress was disheveled, her usually tidy hair now a tangled curtain hiding her face.
Her face pale, her lips stiff, her arms trembling, yet…
She still didn't cry.
She reached her room door.
Placed her hand on the knob, tried to open it…
Once, twice—her hand wouldn't obey her, as if her mind and body had split.
When she finally entered…
She closed the door behind her and collapsed to the ground, not even removing her shoes.
She fell onto the cold floor as she was.
Trembling, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on her arms.
She stayed like that for long moments… no sound, no movement…
Then it erupted.
A sob escaped her unwillingly, followed by others—faster, deeper…
She was choking. Not crying… collapsing.
She began pounding the floor with her fists. She cried.
Louisa cried, truly cried, for the first time with burning agony.
She bent over herself, wrapping her arms around her body, as if hiding from herself.
She cried in muffled gasps, heavy tears falling on her thigh, the floor, her worn-out heart.
She cried like a child who lost her mother.
As if she was trying to let out every unsaid word, every unvoiced scream.
She whispered, trembling:
"Why?... Why me?"
She lifted her head slightly, gazing at the mirror opposite her, only to see a stranger…
Her face no longer looked like hers. Her eyes had lost their light—everything about her was shattered.
She walked toward the mirror and screamed:
"You're not me!"
She slammed the table beside her, knocking down a comb and some oil bottles.
Then she looked at her long hair…
Grabbed it and began pulling at it violently, tearing it, hitting herself hard—as if punishing herself for a crime she didn't commit.
Her tears fell, her voice shaking:
"This… isn't me… This… isn't fair…"
She collapsed again after exhaustion overcame her, curling up on the cold floor, as if trying to return to a safe womb.
She cried herself to sleep.
But it wasn't sleep… she was gone.
Only her body remained—her soul had fled far away.
---
Days passed…
And each night that went by, a faint sobbing could be heard from Louisa's room.
A soft, broken sound, regular like a sad heartbeat… a silent cry for help.
Fantine, in the adjacent room, heard it clearly.
Sometimes she'd stop by Louisa's wall, pressing her ear against it, listening to Louisa as she blamed herself.
Fantine understood what was happening. She wanted to help.
But…
She felt the time wasn't right yet.
Every day, she kept listening to the whispers, broken words behind the wall—until she became certain.
"I'm sorry… Forgive me, Father… Forgive me, Mother… I'm sorry…"
Fantine clenched her fist… then walked away.
Her heart burned—but her mind said:
"Wait… don't rush to judge."
---
Then came that night…
Two in the morning.
The hallways were dark, lit only by faint candlelight swaying in the cold breeze.
Suddenly…
From a distance, at the end of the corridor—Louisa appeared.
Her dress disheveled, her hair half undone, her eyes barely seeing the path.
She staggered as she walked, stumbling with each step. Her body exhausted, the cold biting through her thin gown.
And Fantine… was there.
She had been waiting for her ever since the servant called Louisa with, "The king wants you—now."
She ran to her at once:
"Louisa! What—?"
She didn't finish her sentence, catching her quickly before she fell.
She wrapped Louisa's arm around her shoulder and helped her walk back to her room.
Once inside, she gently sat her on the bed.
Louisa didn't speak at first… just stared at the floor, terrified she'd been found out.
But Fantine placed her hand on hers and said calmly:
"I know."
Louisa slowly lifted her eyes.
**"I've been hearing you… every night.
And seeing the signs… but I…"**
Louisa cut her off with a soft gasp and whispered:
"Please… I'll give you anything you want, just don't tell anyone. I'm begging you."
Fantine smiled and shook her head:
"I'm not trying to threaten you, child. No—I pity you. And I respect your strength more than anything."
That's when Louisa broke down.
She collapsed in Fantine's arms, as if she had carried the world on her shoulders.
Fantine asked:
"May I ask… how did this all begin?"
And with every ounce of pain, Louisa told her everything.
How it started, how it ended, how she was forced…
How she tried to protect her parents and lost herself.
Fantine didn't interrupt. Didn't cry…
She simply held her hand until she finished, then said:
"Oh dear Lord… I'm so sorry, little one. I wanted to help, but I feared I was judging too soon."
Louisa looked at her with tearful, pleading eyes:
"What should I do now… Help me… please."
That's when Fantine made her promise:
"I will help you… but I need time. Just trust me—and don't fall apart. We'll find a way."
---
From that night on, Fantine's room became a secret refuge for Louisa.
No one knew of the bond forming between the two maids…
On the surface, everything seemed normal—to avoid suspicion.
But in secret, there was an alliance.
Fantine began visiting Louisa almost daily—especially at night, after her return from that hell.
She comforted her, sometimes bringing herbs to soothe her weary body.
---
Then… about two weeks later, Louisa noticed something strange.
She woke up feeling an unusual heaviness and mild morning sickness.
She thought it was nothing…
But the nausea returned the next day… and the next… and the next.
She avoided eating, but her energy dropped, and her face grew pale.
When Fantine visited her one evening, she noticed:
"You look pale… have you eaten today?"
Louisa whispered:
"I can't… every time I eat, I feel like throwing up."
Fantine raised an eyebrow… stared at her, then gently asked:
"When was your last period?"
Louisa froze…
Stared at the floor, her heart pounding.
Then slowly looked up and said:
"I… I don't know. I forgot… maybe from the stress…"
Fantine held her hand gently, her voice low but clear:
"Louisa… you might be pregnant."
Louisa's breathing quickened, the room spinning around her.
She rushed to the small window, opened it, gasping:
"No… No, it can't be… I… impossible…"
But her mind whispered the possibility she'd been denying.
She turned to Fantine and screamed:
"Fantine! I don't want this… I don't want anything from him… I don't want to be a mother to his child!"
Fantine ran to her and hugged her tightly:
"Calm down… I'm with you… We don't choose what happens to us, but we choose how we face it."
Louisa broke into tears again—for the first time since her confession.
In the following days, Fantine confirmed the signs of pregnancy and began preparing an emergency plan.
And during their talks, Fantine gently suggested:
"Louisa… have you ever thought of escaping?"
But Louisa stayed silent…
Telling her escape without protecting her parents wasn't an option.
Fantine then said:
"If the king finds out you're pregnant, he'll kill you without mercy…"
Louisa looked at her, eyes filled with sorrow:
"My parents… they're old. They have no one else but me. I can't die… they'll collapse. What if he kills them too… what do I do…?"
Fantine embraced her and tried to calm her, then said:
**"We must get you out before your belly begins to show.
You have at most two months.
But first, I'll find a safe place for your family… then we'll get you out."**
Louisa nodded silently, beginning to regain some strength.
Fantine contacted a trusted driver and an old farmer who once worked for the royal family—
A man still indebted to her for an old favor…
But things didn't go as easily as they hoped.