Seven months have passed since Elizaveta had discovered she was with child, and seven months since she had decided to have her legs amputated. Gilbert had argued to the bitter end about going against it, but the doctor had said that Elizaveta could already never use her legs again. By doing this the was a small chance she may be able to live longer, and she had. She was supposed to have died last month, but she was still alive. Her husband still regretted having her legs taken away, but Elizaveta was pleased with it, and that made at least a bit happy.

Their business was still going strong. Elizaveta had a harder time in the kitchen now that her movements were restricted even further than before. But after a while, they had enough money to enable Gilbert to extend the kitchen area side of the building and make it easier for her to move around again, as she was once again in a damn wheelchair. By now, most of the town had learned of Elizaveta's condition and frequently prayed for her. She appreciated it, but saw no reason to it. Knowing her time was fleeting her, she wrote a letter, and set it to her father.

As August began to come to a close, Elizaveta sat in their backyard under an old oak tree and began to think of the past year in retrospect. Last August Elizaveta had been going through her daily routines of lessons, lonely lunches, and her favored ridding. In September, she had meet Gilbert out during a ride. Over the next two months they would see each other daily. He would constantly be annoying but would always show concern. She began to see life through his eyes and question how she lived. She rebelled against her father for the first time then was put in solitary confinement for an entire week. She had lost the will to live completely, then Gilbert appeared offering her freedom. In November they left and she meet Feliciana and Lovina in a small village. They left and traveled to France where they meet Francis and Jeanne. After a month of traveling the two of them ended up here in England. They started a business together, they became pregnant together, she lost her legs. Now months have passed and Elizaveta began to feel more tired. Her life was slipping away but the only life she was concerned about was her child.

And Gilbert.

How would he feel when she was gone? What would he do? Will he go and find someone else? Will he raise our child alone and maintain our business?

Ever since she was thirteen, Elizaveta saw no more meaning in life. But after just a year with Gilbert, life meant everything to her. Candlelight, her memories of her mother.

Elizaveta pushed herself to the make shift stable in the back. Her horse in one side, Gilbert's in the other. Elizaveta reached out her hand to stroke her mane. Her mother had given Candlelight as a fowl when she was only six, not long before she died. She was the sole memory of her mother. What would her child have to remember her?

Suddenly Elizaveta felt a strong kick. She bent over in pain, then she felt something wet at her legs, her water broke.

Panic filled her head. "GILBERT!" She screamed. Her husband came flying out of the house immediately, following her voice to the stables.

"What's wrong?" He asked in a rushed tone.

"T-the baby, I-it's coming!" She gasped and held her stomach.

"What? But it's too early!" He said.

"Just take me to the hospital!" She yelled in pain. Gilbert nodded and picked her up. He ran with her in his arms to the opposite side of the city, where the hospital was.

"I need help!" He shouted as soon as he got in. A nurse ran up to him and led him to a room, where he placed Elizaveta on a bed.

"Sit I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She told him.

"No way! I'm the awesome father of the child!" He retorted.

The nurse didn't bother arguing with him and ran out to get the doctor. Gilbert went and sat by his wife's side, rubbing her hand and whispering comfort to her. The doctor rushed in and took a look at the situation before getting to work. He directed her to breath deeply before spreading her legs. Taking her pulse and temperature, a look of foreboding came into his face.

"What is it?" Gilbert asked the doctor.

"Her heart rate is dropping at an alarming rate. I'm afraid she won't make it." He told him.

Gilbert face dropped immediately, he turned back to his wife, who was having difficulty breathing.

"And what about the child?" He asked.

"We might be able to save it, but it'll be premature and it's chance of survival will be low." The doctor answered.

Gilbert felt his heart sink once again. 'This can't be happening!'

"S-save the baby..." Elizaveta muttered.

The doctor nodded and instructed her to push. She did as she was told, but nothing seemed to happen. It was like this for hours and their was still no sign of a child. Elizaveta was afraid she would miscarry. However, after a long wait, a cry was finally heard.

"It's a girl!" The doctor announced. He wrapped the child in a blanket and handed her to Gilbert. He smiled and the little bundle, she was so little. He turned and gently placed her in Elizaveta's arms.

"Gil... I can't see... Tell me what she looks like." She murmured in a tired voice.

"She has my hair, light blond to almost white. She had your green eyes, she's looking at you." He told her in a sad yet happy tone.

Elizaveta smiled and began to cry. "Marie... Her name is Marie." She sobbed. Tears cascaded down her face. Weakly reaching out her hand, she searched for Gilbert. Gilbert grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Marie Beilschmidt. Promise you'll give her a happy life?" Elizaveta asked.

"Of course I will!" Gilbert said. "We both will, right?"

Elizaveta smiled as she stared into thin air. Tears fell down and she closed her eyes. "Thank you... I love you, Gil."

Elizaveta's hand fell limp in his hands.

"Hey, that's not funny. It's not time to go to sleep yet." Gilbert said. Elizaveta didn't respond. Gilbert shook her and she didn't flinch. Gilbert lost his voice as tears began to flow.

"No... Don't leave me." He begged her. "Nooo!" He shouted and buried his face in her breasts. His daughter woke up and began to cry as well. Looking up he lifted her up into his arms.

"Shh, it's okay. Daddy is still here." He whispered to her. "And I won't ever leave you."

Later that week, a funeral was held for Elizaveta. Jeanne and Francis attended and weeped. The news had traveled back to the village, and was discovered by Feliciana, Lovina, Ludwig, and Antonio. Gilbert had refused to cry. He had his child to take care of now. Two weeks later, however, an unexpected visitor had appeared on his door step.

Elizaveta's father.

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Well everyone, the long awaited death has come. A second of silence. Pleas show me a sign that you are reading, I feel like I'm writing to no one. Next chapter will be half epilogue half in the present. See you next week!

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