After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 14
After news spread about the appearance of the first Duchess’s ghost, the mansion became enveloped in an increasingly dark atmosphere. Surprisingly, the treatment towards Sebelia improved gradually. It was a rather amusing turn of events.
Thinking about the meal personally brought by a maid this morning, she brushed her hair back.
“It turned out better than I expected.”
It had been quite a while since she had tasted meat so generously seasoned with spices.
“Everyone must be taking the curse quite seriously.”
Belita, the first Duchess. She was, quite frankly, a spirit beyond Sebelia’s comprehension.
Belita Inverness was decapitated by her beloved husband. Even so, she couldn’t forsake her love for him. Eventually, twisted by hatred towards her husband and an affection she couldn’t release even in death, she became a malevolent spirit. Haunting the mansion, Belita skipped generations in the family, cursing and killing innocents.
Knock, knock.
“Madam, I’ve brought your tea.”
“Oh, come in.”
“…Very well.”
As if she hadn’t already gotten over the hatred in her heart, a conflicted-looking maid entered. She seemed hesitant at times, as if regretting what she was doing, but eventually, she finished her duties.
“I shall take my leave now.”
The small table was now adorned with a sumptuous high tea spread: gold-rimmed plates, dainty pastries, and a teapot carrying a fragrant aroma. Despite the lavish spread before her, Sebelia felt more emptiness than joy.
“Fear conquers hatred.”
Duchesses who had died under Bellita’s curse sometimes fell under her influence and became another spirit. Ultimately, the servants feared that Sebelia would die and become another vengeful ghost, dragging them along with her.
“A dead Duchess wields more influence than a living one.” Sebelia smirked as she took a sip of her tea. “It smells delightful.”
For someone who had been treated like an eyesore in the mansion, having tea served specifically for her was nothing short of a luxury. It marked a significant improvement from having to tiptoe around asking for tea just a few days ago.
“It speaks volumes about how terrifying the first Duchess must be.”
She recalled Belita’s portrait hanging in the hallway–with her long, night-sky black hair, her husband’s hand on her shoulder. She appeared happy, blissfully unaware of the tragic future that awaited her. Still, Belita seemed better off than Sebelia.
She was once loved.
A love that ended in tragedy due to misunderstandings, but love nonetheless.
But I never had a chance.
Before Sebelia could even begin to envision the shape of love, she was robbed of all possibility.
[There’s no way I can trust you now]
She recalled the disdainful gaze of the man who looked down on her with arrogant golden eyes.
[Why things turned out this way, you know why better than anyone. So… abandon your futile dreams.]
[Dehart, please…]
[The day where we’d fall asleep together like an ordinary couple will never come.]
Sebelia stared into the bottom of her teacup, remembering the man who shook her to her core with his cold gaze. The dried tea leaves seemed to mock her unfortunate life.
* * *
“Let’s find out who pushed for this crap to be published,” Dehart said to Ryan while sitting back comfortably in his armchair.
“No one in their right mind would write such provocative content without an agenda in mind,” Dehart sneered coldly. Several nobles crossed his mind.
Ryan nodded, wiping his face repeatedly with a towel. The dried blood didn’t come off easily. Sighing, he splashed water directly onto his face.
“You’re splashing water everywhere,” Dehart snapped irritably.
“Apologies,” Ryan responded, dabbing the moisture off his face hastily with the towel. “Nevertheless, it’s truly low for those pretending to have such class.”
“That’s what they do,” Dehart scoffed as he cut his cigar. “No wonder these upper-crust snakes are obsessed with perfume. They reek of rot from head to toe.”
His relaxed whisper carried a venomous undertone. Dehart took a deep drag on his cigar, blew out a puff of smoke, and looked back out the window. The morning bells were ringing, signaling the awakening of the city.
“S**t.” His golden eyes squinted through his disheveled locks. “Someone must have found the trash we threw out last night by now. Go check and confirm.”
Ryan nodded and left.
Dehart opened the newspaper and turned his head at a set of prying eyes. His eyes locked with the nameless bird. He exchanged a brief glance with the green eyes before looking away again.
It wasn’t long before Ryan returned.
“My Lord.”
“Oh, Dehart.”
“…Uncle.”
And with an unexpected guest, it seems.
