TWNF || Chapter - 1

 

TWNF | There Was No Finale

Arc - 1 || Chapter - 1

 




Death Sentence

————————————

"You have just six months left."

The doctor told me bluntly. My mind went blank at those words.

I knew it.

Recent health problems, loss of appetite. Mysterious lightheadedness, dizziness, nausea, and headaches.

I didn't accept food at all anymore, and there were days when I couldn't get out of bed. But I didn't want to go through this——

"Can't you... do something about it?"

My own faint voice echoed in the room. The bearded doctor shook his head as he looked at my medical report.

"I'm sorry, my lady. There are very few cases of this kind of disease even in this country."

"......"

I felt as if my eyes had gone completely dark. Was this because of my illness? Or was it because I was in shock?

I was dizzy and couldn't say anything. I couldn't even see the doctor's face properly anymore. My vision became deformed and twisted... and then it went dark.

My name was Alyea Bewfiti.

I was the lady who turned sixteen this spring and was to be wed next spring. And I was the only daughter of the Duke of Bewfiti.

My fiancé was the crown prince of this country, and he was also my childhood friend.

"Let's get married when we grow up."

The promise that I made with such expectations was not going to be fulfilled. Soon after I turned sixteen, I began to feel ill.

Dizziness, nausea, headache. Loss of appetite. I also lost a lot of weight.

Even so, a silence was imposed on the matter, as it would be a threat to the authority of the dukes if word got out that the crown prince's fiancée was ill.

My mother appeased me by saying that my illness was just emotional instability caused by weakness, and my father blamed me for my mental fragility.

I also believed that my mental weakness was the problem, and I even recited the Bible to strengthen my mind.

But in the end, nothing got better and my condition worsened. I couldn't even get out of bed for days on end, and it became difficult to attend parties.

The occasional days of coughing up blood followed, and I once fainted in the middle of my mother's chiding.

My mother rebuked me even worse and finally called a psychiatrist. My condition was judged to be 'manic-depression,' and with the results in hand, my mother began to chastise me.

I was at my wits' end.

While I was coughing blood, I knew it wasn't a mental illness.

As I read the Bible, I suspected that this was a disease. Christy, my maid, helped me to get a doctor who had connections.

This was the result of that decision.

"You have just six months left."

That means I'm going to die in six months, apparently.

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