CHAPTER 1

Autumn furrowed her brows in her half conscious state when she saw shadow like beings hovering above her, she blinked rapidly only to notice shapeless figures with bared fangs. Some didn't have upper lips and her eyes widened when one leaned forward to sink it's teeth into her neck. Out of shock and fear she tried moving but her body wasn't responding, it was like she was paralyzed or glued to the bed. With every passing second her heart thundered, threatening to slip out of her chest; When something cold touched her forehead she jerked to the side and rolled off the bed, falling to the ground with a loud thud. The books and oil lamp on her beside table fell on her head before hitting the ground. looking up with her heart beating fast, Autumn prepared herself to scream if she caught a glimpse of that... no, those creature but when she looked up, she saw her mother looking down at her with furrowed brows and her fingers hanging mid air. Quickly her eyes scanned the room to find any possible threat and she sighed in relief only to meet her mothers glaring gaze.

"Young lady what are you doing?". Her mother finally opened her mouth to speak with her hands resting on her waist- akimbo.

Here we go again. She rolled her eyes inwardly.

"Good morning mom". She acted oblivious and stood up with a charming smile plastered on her lips.

Autumn stood at attention when her mother grabbed her jaw- it was expected anyway. Emerson squinted her eyes with her lips set in a thin line.

"What have I told you about waking up late?".

"I overslept, it wouldn't happen again". She spoke with her teeth biting her inner cheek and her tongue because of the hand holding her jaw.

"Autumn!". Her mother called her sternly. "You always say that, when will your excuses stop?. You are old enough to have suitors asking for your hand and our blessings but how would you take care of a man when you can't wake up on your own". Her mother sighed deeply.

If only you knew mother.

"It wouldn't happen again". Her eyes lowered to the ground. Her usually cheerful self was down today; she had been having nightmares, at first they weren't vivid but now she could see the images clearly although they were a little blurry.

"Go wash up". Her mother released her jaw and she scurried to the bath house outside, stopping to carry her robe, towel and other things needed for her bath. Meanwhile, Emerson sat down at the edge of the bed; picking up the pillow that was resting at the side, she placed it on her lap and caressed the flange of the pillow. Her eyes were unfocused and staring at a particular spot on the wall but her mind was in disarray. Pushing the pillow off her lap, she sighed and stood up to leave the room, coming face to face with her husband who's brows were furrowed and fist were clenched to the point were his knuckles turned white, outside the room.

"Song?". She called out to her husband and locked the door she came out from seconds ago behind her.

"Are you alright?". She asked in concern when he didn't lift his gaze from the floor.

"I'm sorry I failed you yet again". His fingers were locked and intertwined in front of him while his head hung down exasperatedly. Emerson still stood in front of the door not moving an inch, studying her exasperated husband. She smiled inwardly because she knew he had tried as a man; he had no family background, raised and brought up in an orphanage but yet he still made his name, he wasn't a noble or elite either who had connections and inheritances but still he strived for perfection. He was doing better than the so called nobles and elites who thought they were perfect and every other person was beneath.

When he didn't hear any response from her, he tilted his head sideways and a little bit upwards. He was too ashamed to look at her. They had been married for years and still she stood beside him without complaining. He wanted her to shout at him, to laugh self-deprecatingly at him, to bang her fist against his chest while he stood with his hands clenched at his side, he wanted her to slap him hard across the face and call herself a fool for getting married to him but she did none of those, she stood beside him quietly all these years, giving him advice and support.

Emerson walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him.

"song". She sighed and he waited to hear what she had to say. Emerson smiled when she felt his body go rigid. Slowly she ran her index finger intermittently along his back and down his spine so his taut muscles would loosen up a bit.

"I didn't make a mistake for getting married to you". She kept a moment of silence so her words could sink in.

"But...". She cut him off when he tried to speak.

"I wouldn't have settled for anything less and you are not less song. Even if you were less which you are not and will never be, I would still choose you my love". His body went rigid again and Emerson smiled. Song thought he must have saved a whole nation to deserve someone like her. All along he thought she was putting up a facade, concealing her emotions from him but he was wrong; he was always wrong in front of her.

"I didn't get married to you because of money song, I couldn't ask for anything less of this marriage. I'm happy with or without money". She pulled back to look into his eyes but still kept her arms wrapped around his neck.

"I don't care if I live on the streets or I get laughed at and called a mediocre, Song". She paused and cleared her throat, trying to sound normal and trying to avoid the crack in her voice. Her bright and clear eyes watered from unshed tears as she stared at him.

"All I want is you healthy and bouncy". She paused her lips into a tight, thin line and released it.

"I am. I am". He said, trying to reassure her and maybe himself. Emerson broke down into a loud sob and gripped the front of his tunic tight. Her knees shook.

"you're sick Song and I know it". His eyes widened in shock.

"I watched you every night, I watched and felt your fingers turn cold, your lips slightly blue, your forehead covered in beady sweat and the colors drained from your face. Yo-you can't leave us Song, you can't". She banged his chest and pulled him for a hug and his head to her shoulder. Her entire body wrenched and shook with tears as she cried. She pulled back again and entwined his fingers with hers. Slowly, she guided his hand to her visible baby bump.

"You can't leave Song". She cried. "I don't care if you quit you job, I don't care if we're kicked out of the house and the streets or alley becomes our new home. All I need is you healthy and alive". Song smiled bitterly because he couldn't promise her anything concerning his health.

"Little wife". He raised his head from her shoulder but still kept his hands wrapped securely around her waist.

"I have to push myself harder to give you all a better life". He brought his face to the side of her head and kissed her ear.

"Remember, if I can't pay the required taxes, we would be kicked out and the cleaners would do their usual bloody work; I can't imagine my wife, daughter and yet to be born child being dragged in silver chains". Emerson was at a loss of words, she had totally forgotten the cleaners. They were part of the slave trade firm and institution; every third week of every month, they cleaned the streets, alleys and other places where roaming, homeless humans could possibly hide. Any one that was caught and tried to resist would be beaten to death or any condition; but it was mostly unlikely the latter depending on the strength, physique, and current condition of the individual. Roaming around the streets, alleys and other places to search for shelter, food and a place to hide is draining; using that strengthless body to try to fight off sturdy, agile or burly men was mostly unlikely. Those that must have heard the in's and out's of the slave trade institution and firm were the one's who tried to fight for their life- for the freedom of not being bound to an institution and later be sold off as a dog to other humans, were the ones that were beaten to death or bad shapes.

Emerson smacked her forehead with her hand, she had totally forgotten the cleaners. She had been forgetting little details and been worrying too much lately. There was no money and they were managing so she wasn't doing and taking things that pregnant women ought to take; skipping supplements and vitamins had become normal for her because of lack of money. she sighed and brought her hand down to rob her dropping eyes.

Song pulled back and looked at her tired face. she had dark circles under her eyes but she was still beautiful. Her worry over him lately was something he understood clearly. His sickness, their unborn child and other things were taking a toll on her. His determination to succeed by any legal means seemed to skyrocket to a hundred and eighty percent.

"Don't fight it". He whispered, raising his hand to close her sleepy eyes. He picked her up, placing a hand gently on her back and the other under her knees. He took slow and steady strides to their room while humming, lulling her to a deep sleep while the side of her head rested on his chest; picking up the sound of his voice reverberating against his chest and the beat of his heart mixed together.