After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 29
With wide eyes full of shock, Sebelia shook her head vehemently.
“This is…I was framed. I would never do such a thing.”
“Framed? That’s such a common response.”
“Why on earth would I do such a thing? Dehart, please rethink this. I would never do that to you.”
Sebelia pleaded, clasping her trembling hands together, hoping to appeal to the memories and experiences they had shared. “I didn’t want to say this at a time like this, but I… ”
“If you’re about to say you love me, you better not use that excuse.”
His emotionless voice and cold eyes lashed at her heart. Sebelia stared at Dehart with trembling eyes, unable to believe it. He shook his head, as if pitying her futile efforts, and scattered the evidence he had gathered at her feet.
“Your love isn’t for me. It’s for your father, isn’t it, dear youngest daughter of Wheddon?”
His voice was laced with spite. The flurry of papers turned the once-tidy room into a chaotic mess, blanketing it like snow.
“Well then, these are confessions extracted from the servants you brought in, along with the decrypted code used by the Baron. Let’s see if you can still play ignorant.”
Sebelia picked up the scattered papers, feeling as if their contents would suffocate her.
“This is unbelievable.”
In detail, the papers revealed how she obtained them—requests from the servants, letters written on their behalf, and the translated cipher used by Baron Wheddon. Moreover, there were annotations scribbled in tiny handwriting underneath…
“What on earth is this?”
What she thought were seemingly ordinary greetings and mundane daily affairs were encrypted messages. Sebelia was shaken as she discovered detailed encrypted information about Inverness’s secret data and the key figures entering the mansion. She felt as if her world had been turned upside down. All this time, her father and the servants had conspired against her.
“Thanks to you, everything at Hillend Hall has been flowing towards the Capital.”
Shivering and pale as ice, Sebelia looked up at Dehart who coldly smiled down at her.
“I… I’ve been deceived too, Dehart. I—”
“Oh, it’s all right. No more pleading.” Dehart cupped her tearful chin and held her gaze. “Though you’ve stabbed me in the back, you are still my wife. A noble bride forced upon me by the haughty Capital.”
“Dehart…”
A thick finger pressed against her tear-stained cheeks. Sebelia trembled as she looked at her husband, who was wiping away her tears with his own hands.
“Don’t feel bad about getting caught. We all make mistakes in life…”
“…”
“But… if you had remembered my advice to know your place, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”
Sebelia felt as if she had been struck in the head with a hammer.
Know your place.
Oh no, could it be that this man…
He’s seen this coming all along.
Yes. There’s no way a Northern Duke would have taken her in without a second thought.
Sebelia felt any hope she had crumbling inside her chest. Was everything he gradually opened up to her, all the little bits, just a facade? Was he merely preparing for this moment?
Oh, what else was I supposed to have done…
Sebelia’s shoulders shook with self-pity. Her tears streamed down with no stopping, and Dehart continued wiping away those tears. His cool golden eyes met Sebelia’s blue ones.
“…”
Dehart wordlessly stared at her. Sebelia looked away, unsure of what to do, and dropped her head. A low sigh came from above her.
“You don’t need to come downstairs for meals anymore.”
Dehart gently patted her shoulder and rose from his seat. Sebelia anxiously lifted her head, but his expression was masked by the shimmering chandelier lights.
“Dehart…”
“I don’t have the stomach for it anymore.”
“…!”
Sebelia desperately extended her hand, but Dehart politely declined, turning away from her.
And that was the end of it.
After coming to her senses, Sebelia sought him out, but was repeatedly rebuffed. The manor had turned completely against her, and all the servants from Wheddon were driven out. All the evidence, confessions, and witnesses pointed to her as the culprit, and all she could do in the face of such a loss of trust was to beg for Denisa to remain as her one servant.
“Dehart, as you know, Denisa isn’t involved in this matter. It’s all my fault, so please, just spare her.”
“…”
“She’ll live outside the estate. She won’t interfere or get involved in any way related to this place…”
Interrupting their meal, Sebelia pleaded earnestly for mercy. Dehart looked at her with an impassive face, then sighed as if troubled by something. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded.
“Fine. But there will be restrictions.”
“…Thank you.”
Dehart glanced at her, seemingly relieved.
“Do you have anything else to say?”
“What?”
Staring at Sebelia, Dehart scraped the plate with the tip of his knife. Screech. The chilling sound echoed in the dining room.
Dehart spoke in a subdued tone, almost like giving an order. “I told you I don’t have the stomach for this.”
“…Ah.”
“So leave.”
Was there a more cruel dismissal in the world?
Sebelia couldn’t shake off the memory of that cold voice.
