Please Smile Anastasia

"Duchess, please, think about your condition. The Duke and the young masters-they won't be able to bear it if something bad were to happen to you. So please, for their sake... get rid of that baby before it grows inside your womb."

"W-what... A-are you asking me to k-kill my unborn d-daughter? How c-could you say that..?"

Dahlia's voice trembled as she clutched her stomach, her fingers tightening protectively over the small life growing inside her.

Her wide, disbelieving eyes locked onto her maid, searching for any sign that she had misheard or misunderstood. But there was none. The woman stood firm, her expression torn between concern and desperation.

Dahlia felt a shiver course through her weakened body, her breath growing unsteady. The thought of snuffing out the fragile life inside her, just so she could prolong her own, made her stomach twist in horror. How could they ask this of her?

She had been weak and sickly since childhood-always fragile, always watched over with worry. People around her had been overly cautious, shielding her from anything that might worsen her condition. When she chose to marry the Duke of Winston, many had advised against it, fearing that the demands of marriage and childbirth would be too much for her frail body.

And they had been right. After giving birth to her two sons, she had nearly lost her life. Her body had become even weaker, to the point where she and the Duke had made the painful decision not to have any more children. It was too risky.

But fate had other plans. She became pregnant again-an unexpected miracle, one that should have been a source of joy. Instead, it brought fear, anxiety, and whispered urgencies to end it before it was too late.

Her health had declined more than ever, and now, her husband, her family, and even the people closest to her believed that the only way to save her was to sacrifice the child she carried.

But how could she?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head. This child was a miracle, a gift she never thought she would receive again. How could she even consider taking away its chance to live?

If she had to choose between her life and her child's, she already knew the answer.

She would rather die than deny her baby the chance to see the light, to breathe, to feel warmth and love in this world.

Maybe her husband, Lucas, would understand her...

"B-but Duchess, please... think about your health. I'm only worried about you... especially the Duke. He's barely eating, constantly lost in thought, thinking of ways to prolong your life..."

Flor's voice wavered with desperation, her hands clasped tightly together as if begging her mistress to reconsider. Seeing her like this-pale, frail, and still stubbornly holding on to something that could kill her-was unbearable.

Dahlia, however, could only offer a small, bitter smile.

To live longer?

She knew her body wouldn't last for many more years. It was a reality she had long accepted. Her family knew it too-that's why they were desperately grasping at whatever hope they could find, trying to extend her life through whatever means possible. But she also knew the truth. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried, it was impossible.

She lowered her gaze and gently stroked her stomach.

"If it's you... I know you will live a happy life..." she whispered, her touch lingering over the small life growing inside her.

Flor's breath hitched.

"D-Duchess, please..."

Dahlia's expression hardened as she lifted her eyes to meet Flor's, her once gentle gaze now sharp with resolve.

Flor had always been the most loyal among her attendants, which was why she was so worried. But concern would not change her mind. She didn't need her maid's worry-her decision was final.

"You cannot force me to change my mind." Her voice was steady, unwavering. "Tell Lucas that I have made up my mind-I will bring our baby into this world, even if it costs me my life!"

Flor lowered her head, her tears falling silently as her shoulders trembled.

Dahlia, however, remained unmoved. Her gaze shifted toward Lucy, who was now comforting the weeping Flor.

"Lucy, come with me. I need to talk to you."

Lucy blinked in surprise, hesitating for a moment before slowly rising to her feet. Her brows furrowed in concern, yet she said nothing as she turned her full attention to the Duchess.

Dahlia's gaze swept across the room, her voice turning cold and firm.

"All of you, except Lucy, leave."

A heavy silence filled the air. The other maids and the butler exchanged hesitant glances, reluctant to leave, but they knew they had no choice. Their attempts to change her mind had failed. With solemn expressions and heavy hearts, they quietly exited the room, leaving Dahlia alone with Lucy.

They had all come here hoping to convince her to abandon the child growing inside her. But now, they understood-nothing would change her decision.

To Dahlia, they were cruel for even suggesting such a thing. She couldn't understand how they could say those words to her so easily, as if the life growing inside her meant nothing.

Her unborn baby would be the future lady of this manor, yet they were so willing to sacrifice her-choosing the life of a mother who was already weak and whose time was running out.

Dahlia let out a quiet breath, her fingers trembling slightly as they caressed her swollen belly.

"I have something I wish for you to do for me before I die."

The room fell into silence.

Lucy's breath hitched, her eyes widening in shock.

The way Dahlia said those words-it was as if she had already accepted her fate, as if she were preparing for the inevitable.

Even without knowing what the Duchess was about to ask, Lucy could feel the weight of it pressing down on her. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be something simple. It would be something of great importance-something Dahlia would entrust only to someone she believed in.

"D-Duchess, please don't say that... Don't say that you're going to die. The Duke and the young masters... they won't be able to bear it if they hear you speaking like this."

Dahlia let out a soft, tired sigh.

"I know..." she murmured. "That's exactly why I called you here. Because I know that you're the only one I can truly trust now. What I'm about to ask of you will not be easy."

Lucy swallowed hard, a nervous lump forming in her throat.

"W-why me? Why not Flor, Your Grace? She's been your most loyal maid. I'm sure she could carry out whatever task you're about to ask of me much better than I ever could."

At Lucy's words, Dahlia's expression changed. The warmth in her eyes faded, replaced by something unreadable. She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she lowered her gaze, her hand moving instinctively over her swollen belly, now six months along.

For a moment, there was only silence.

"Flor is not in the right state of mind right now, and I'm sure she will only suffer more once I'm gone and once I bring this lovely angel into the world. That's why I believe you are more suited than her to take on this role."

Lucy stiffened, her hands clenching into fists.

"W-what role are you asking me to take, Your Grace?" she asked, her voice laced with nervousness.

Dahlia's gaze softened as she let out a weary sigh, her fingers once again brushing over her swollen belly.

"I want you to take care of my daughter and name her... Anastasia."

She paused, her eyes glistening with unspoken sorrow.

"She is my only hope... the one who will bring strength to the Winston family. She will be the light that makes everyone smile."

A bitter smile formed on Dahlia's lips as she spoke. She already knew the truth-once she gave birth, she might not even get the chance to hold her daughter, not even for a fleeting moment. She had long accepted that her body would not withstand the labor.

But even so, she had made her choice.

-----

Three months later.....

"Faster! Help the Duchess! She's in labor-the princess is coming!"

Flor's urgent voice rang out in the halls, commanding the maids who scrambled in panic, trying to assist their mistress.

"Make sure you do everything to keep her safe! Nothing must happen to her!"

Despite the chaos, Flor's voice was unwavering. Yet, beneath her determination, there was fear-fear of losing the woman she had served faithfully for years.

George, the butler, rushed forward, his expression tense with worry.

"Your Grace, please... You need to rest. It's been weeks since you last had proper sleep." His tone was firm, but his eyes betrayed his deep concern. Like Flor, he, too, was terrified of what was to come.

Lucas remained silent, his body rigid with tension. His fingers trembled as they tightened around the small hands of his two young sons, as if holding onto them was the only thing keeping him grounded.

How could he rest?

How could he even think of closing his eyes when his wife-his beloved Dahlia-was teetering between life and death, struggling to bring their child into the world?

His jaw clenched, his voice shaking with suppressed emotion as he barked out his command.

"How can I rest when my wife is fighting for her life while giving birth to that child? I can't rest! Make sure to tell all the doctors out there to prioritize saving my wife over that cursed baby!"

A suffocating silence followed.

Flor's breath hitched. A few maids gasped softly, their eyes widening in shock. Even the knights stationed near the entrance stiffened, their faces turning pale.

No one had expected those words-those cruel, cutting words-to come from the Duke himself.

His own child... not yet even born, and he had already branded her cursed.

"Y-yes, Your Grace... I will make sure to tell them." George finally responded, his voice tight with hesitation. He gave a stiff bow before turning on his heel and quickly disappearing down the hall.

The entire Winston estate was drowning in chaos.

Maids and servants hurried through the corridors, whispering prayers under their breath. The knights, known for their unwavering discipline, now wore grim expressions, their hands tightening around the hilts of their swords as they stood watch.

A heavy darkness loomed over the mansion, a suffocating weight that pressed down on everyone within it.

No one dared to meet the Duke's gaze.

Lucas stood in the center of it all, his normally composed and regal features twisted with barely contained agony. The deep lines of worry on his face made him look like a man on the verge of breaking.

Then-

BANG!

The doors to the birthing chamber burst open.

A doctor rushed out, his face stricken with panic. His hands were shaking, his forehead glistening with sweat.

"Y-Your Grace! We have terrible news!" he gasped, his voice shaking. "The Duchess is losing consciousness! Her pulse is dangerously weak!"

It felt like the world stopped.

The color drained from Lucas's face. His breath hitched, his entire body going rigid as the words sank in.

Beside him, his two sons-both too young to fully understand death but old enough to recognize fear-looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

Their small hands clutched onto their father's fingers even tighter.

But no amount of strength could stop the truth from sinking in.

Their mother was slipping away.

And there was nothing they could do.

Tears welled up in their innocent eyes, their tiny shoulders trembling, and in that moment-

Neither of them could hold them back anymore.

"Damn it! Do whatever it takes!" Lucas roared, his voice laced with desperation and fury. "What's the point of hiring the best doctors if you can't even save my wife?! I hired you all to treat her-to keep her alive! So do something! I don't care what it takes, even if you have to kill the child inside her! I just want my wife to live!"

His hands balled into fists as rage and fear consumed him. Without thinking, he shoved the doctor aside, his movements wild and frantic as he tried to force his way into the room.

The staff gasped in shock, some rushing forward to stop him, while others could only watch in stunned silence.

Then-

A chilling stillness settled over the entire estate.

It was as if time itself had frozen.

A royal doctor stepped forward from the birthing chamber, his expression grave. The weight of the news he carried was heavy in the way his lips trembled, in the way his hands shook at his sides.

"I... I'm sorry, Duke." His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. "We did everything we could... but the Duchess didn't make it."

A deafening silence followed.

Lucas's world shattered in an instant.

All the strength in his legs vanished, and before he could stop himself, he collapsed onto the cold marble floor. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, his vision blurring as his mind struggled to process the words.

Dahlia... is gone?

No.

No, it couldn't be.

A heavy grief hung in the air, suffocating everyone present.

Servants and knights bowed their heads, some covering their mouths to muffle their quiet sobs. Flor stood frozen, her hands trembling as tears spilled down her cheeks. Even the doctors, who had witnessed many tragedies before, couldn't mask the sorrow in their eyes.

Then, amidst the suffocating despair-

A single cry pierced the silence.

A newborn's wail echoed through Winston Manor.

Soft at first, then growing louder.

A new life had entered the world.

And yet, the price for that life had already been paid.