Please Kill Me Vol. 3 Chapter 1.2

After crying and screaming for a while, I fell asleep and when I woke up, I felt a tray placed next to me with soup à l’oignon and ripe figs. My nose first detected the aroma of the soup and the sweet fragrance of the figs.

“Dahlia, if you want to eat, just say so. I’ll feed you.”

It was Lambert. His voice still gentle.

He waited for me to wake up, and he noticed that I had awakened, trying to assist or rather, feed me. The memory of the resistance I put up before falling asleep came to mind, but I was still unable to shake off the suspicion of Lambert urging me to eat and drink.

“I said I don’t want to eat!”

As I screamed, milk gushed out again, creating an unpleasant sensation as it soaked my chest. The dress would have been drenched in milk when I was in the midst of screaming and throwing tantrums. It seemed like someone had changed my clothes while I was sleeping, but the milk had soaked through again. It worsened my mood once more.

“If you don’t eat anything while breastfeeding the baby, you’ll become exhausted and collapse.”

I scoffed at Lambert’s concerned words.

“Who said I’ll breastfeed? I won’t do it. Even if my milk keeps overflowing and making a mess like this, I won’t let anyone suckle from me. I never intended to have a baby!”

As I said those words, the milk kept flowing. In reality, at that moment, I desperately wished for someone, whether it was the baby or Lambert, to suck my milk vigorously. But I was forcing myself and spewing out words beyond my control.

“Why should I breastfeed? I’m not a cow! I hate it! I hate it all!”

After saying those words, I burst into tears. Those words weren’t sincere. Yet, I felt like I had fallen into a terrible abyss, and that feeling kept stimulating me, causing an eruption of suppressed and repressed emotions that I couldn’t handle. I cried and cried while Lambert comforted me. I cried in his arms for a long time.

“Suckle my breast. It hurts.”

Even while crying, without considering his own feelings or the situation, I extended my breast towards him, urging him to suckle. He lovingly latched on and suckled. He sucked one side completely and then meticulously sucked the other side. I realized that his body was tense, and his lower body was directed towards me. As I felt that, my mood worsened once again.

“Now, go away. Stay away from me.”

Using Lambert’s mouth only to empty my heavy breasts, I pushed him away. Despite knowing that he wasn’t approaching me or attempting any intimacy, I acted cruelly.

I know, back then and even now, that Lambert wasn’t the one who gave my mother the potion that could blind her. But if someone in this mansion gave such an order, it must have been Lambert’s mother or father. No, Lambert’s father, who frequently violated my mother’s body, wouldn’t have done such a thing. It was probably the Countess’ doing. Then and now, since I couldn’t take revenge, I treated her son, Lambert, with such contempt. I was imposing a strange sense of righteousness upon myself.

As Lambert distanced himself from me, I regretted it. I would have clung to him again, saying that my lower body did not want him now, but that in truth, my languishing heart, my restless judgment, craved his affection.

But I didn’t do that. Instead, I turned away and continued to be tormented by the relentless haunting of the past and the present’s melancholy.

 

* * *

 

Suddenly, I heard the sound of Ines crying. As Lambert tried to soothe the baby, the crying gradually subsided. After declaring that I wouldn’t breastfeed, Lambert didn’t bother me and sometimes seemed to feed the baby with a mixture of oatmeal boiled in water and sugar when she seemed hungry. Within a few hours, my breasts continued to ache and overflow with milk, and I also desired to nurse the baby. Pretending to give in, I asked him to bring the baby to me. Lambert helped me sit up and sat behind me, at the head of the bed, or rather, behind my back. Leaning against him, I nursed baby Ines as he brought her to my breast. And I marveled at the warm whirlwind she created while suckling. It was painful to have an excessive flow of milk, but each time the baby suckled, I momentarily fell into a state of ecstasy and contentment. Lambert, who watched our interaction from behind, kissed my shoulder. It was a gentle peck.

“Oh, my lovely Ines. How could you have such beautiful and delicate hair?”

While looking at Ines and listening to the sound of admiration for her delicate hair, I became quite curious. If she resembled the young Lambert I remembered, she would have dazzling blond hair. If she resembled my own hair, it would be a shade somewhere between a rich golden brown and chestnut. I wanted to see it. Tears welled up in my eyes.

However, at that moment, something seemed to stir in my eyes. It could have been an illusion, but I was captivated by the anticipation that maybe I could open my eyes. Pointless delusions, hopes, and anguish kept intertwining within me.

Ines had completely nursed from one breast and seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep. The other breast, which hadn’t been emptied yet, suddenly became swollen and engorged as if angry. I laid the baby in the cradle and angrily demanded that Lambert do something about the engorged breast. As he diligently sucked it, I fell back asleep.