After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 3
TN: Chapters 1-3 are re-translations of a project that was dropped in 2021. You can find the older fan translations here.
Roger felt Dehart’s grip on his hand steadily tightening. His lips trembled. “…Dehart, I’m just worried about you.”
“I am well aware of that. After all, you raised me with your own two hands in place of my parents.”
For a brief moment, the two of them locked eyes.
“So, please don’t worry about anything else, and I believe you’ll pray for my safe return.”
“…Very well.”
Roger fell silent, faced with Dehart’s imposing tone and the fury in his eyes.
* * *
In the end, Roger had to bid farewell to Dehart. Behind him, the butler who had been watching them the entire time approached.
“Master Roger.”
“Send this to the Lynn Post.” Roger handed a letter to the butler, looking at the spot where Dehart had been.
The letter, with no sender’s name, had been prepared by his wife, Glenn, and would soon make the crucial decision for Inverness.
If you can’t do it, then we will.
Roger watched the carriage recede from his view and turned away, his eyes reflecting a steadfast determination.
* * *
The twilight streamed through the curtains, casting a reddish hue into the desolate room. Soon, amidst the clamor of hoofbeats, the sound of Dehart’s carriage departing reached her ears. Sebelia, who had been peering through a crack to glimpse the outside, returned to her seat and gazed down at her pale hands.
They were delicate and lovely hands, incapable of holding anyone else’s or even plucking a single fragile flower.
That’s my lot.
Sebelia forced a bitter smile and clasped her hands together. He had finally departed, never granting her a moment by his side and never giving her the chance to until the very end.
“It’s quite remarkable.”
Sebelia ran a hand through her hair with a hollow laugh. How his cruel and merciless demeanor could feel like a relief at times.
Sebelia returned to her seat and recalled Denisa’s parting words, the words that had opened a new door to freedom for her.
[My lady, you have the gift of illusion.]
At Denisa’s secretive whisper, Sebelia momentarily caught her breath. And only then did she recall the memories she had long forgotten, or more accurately, the memories she had been forced to forget due to her father’s constant abuse.
[When you were a child, the Master always got angry, saying you were seeing things that weren’t there.]
Her lonely room was filled with her sparkling friends and the beautiful blue and red birds that embroidered the empty air every time she trembled with fear in the dark.
[It’s most likely an ability you inherited from your mother.]
Denisa said with conviction. Otherwise, there would be no reason for the Baron to go to such lengths to repress Sebelia’s abilities.
“He called it an unholy, demonic power…”
Her father always said that, when he locked Sebelia in the closet or tied her to a tree.
“It’s been so long. I can’t remember how I did it.”
She clenched and unclenched her fist, struggling to harness her power. After what seemed like forever, she had no clue how to do it.
Please, I need to get out of this house.
She needed this power.
With a desperate heart, Sebelia fervently prayed to someone she didn’t even know. How much time had passed?
“Ah.”
Her vision blurred, and she felt a burning sensation of energy being pulled out of her. She loosened her grip, and a small bird flapped its fiery wings in her hand. It was the unquestionable power of an illusionist.
“Thank goodness.”
Sebelia stared at the fluttering bird, then let it fly into the air.
Chirp.
It let out a small, almost infant-like whimper. The fluffy blue bird was tiny and unremarkable given the immense energy she had poured into it. Still, Sebelia’s eyes sparkled with joy as she looked at the bird. She had succeeded.
This was her chance. The only chance she would ever have to completely disappear.
I’m going to use this ability to create a dead version of myself and leave.
She planned to fake her death with an illusion. As Denisa advised, if she fled without a plan, there was a chance the Wheddon family would hunt her down. As for her husband, it hadn’t occurred to her that he would even consider the idea of him following her. Angry townsfolk chasing her, hunting her down like a witch.
“But if I really am dead…”
If they put her body in a coffin and gave her a funeral right in front of them. Even if she happened to encounter them by chance, they wouldn’t immediately believe that she was the same person.
They’d bury me with their own hands.
Just imagining that moment brought a smile to her lips.
Funerals usually last for about three days… I’ll have to endure that time.
Sebelia, having conjured another blue bird, found joy for the first time in a long while. Is this what they call the will to live? Or perhaps, motivation?
To feel this when it’s time to die, how absurd.
Sebelia continued to seclude herself in her room, practicing relentlessly, even forgetting to eat. It was not a surprise that not a single servant dared to knock on her door all through the night.
* * *
Dehart, who had been sitting in the carriage with his eyes closed, suddenly coughed violently.
“S**t.”
He felt a piercing pain digging into his brain, followed by the sensation of something squeezing his head. At the same time, his limbs tingled and his heart began to beat at an abnormal rate.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Not a day goes by that I don’t feel it.”
Dehart let out a few hollow laughs of disbelief, then retrieved a medicine bottle from his pocket and hastily shoved it into his mouth.
“What a sweet family, never letting me forget.” He spoke with a touch of self-mockery and squeezed the medicine bottle he was holding tightly. It was an unconscious gesture.
With a loud crack, the vial shattered, sending shards crashing to the floor.
“Argh…!”
An agonized groan escaped his mangled lips. His debilitating illness had originated from a dreadful family history.
Ever since he witnessed his entire family being murdered before his eyes, he had endured the familiar pain day in and day out. One of the few people who knew about his illness, his personal physician, had attributed it to a condition stemming from guilt, but Dehart denied that.
This is a curse.
His dead family always showed up in his dreams, as if they resented him for surviving. Reaching out with outstretched hands, they would always appear as he slept, bleeding and dying. They would plead for mercy, beg to be together, and complain about how cold and lonely it was here.
“Damn it.”
Dehart realized he had bitten his lip while wiping his face. Blood was trickling down from his injured hands.
He stared at the bloodstained hands, then leaned against the wall as if he had been struck on the head.
“Ha…”
The effects of the medicine were gradually taking hold. He could feel his body becoming numb and breathed slowly. However, unlike the usual times he had taken the medicine, his mind was becoming increasingly clear. And a voice he didn’t want to recall lingered in his ears.
[There’s something I want to tell you.]
Sh*t. Dehart furrowed his brow.
Why are you making that face? You’re the one in the wrong. You betrayed me first, and you tried to gain my trust with lies…
Dehart clenched his teeth. He tried to erase the unfamiliar image of Sebelia’s face that was burned into his retinas. He attempted to cover it with darkness, just like the lilies that were proudly blooming behind his back. However, just as he couldn’t erase the pain, he couldn’t get Sebelia out of his mind.
[If I were Nelia, would you have been the same?]
A dry voice echoed in his ears. At the same time, the necklace which he had never felt before seemed to be tightening around his throat. It was the necklace with the blue gem she had given him long ago.
“…Tsk.”
He reached for the necklace, trying to remove it, but his rough hands only wounded him even further.
“Hmph…”
He caught his reflection in the window and smirked .Ah, he looked like a beheaded man whose head had been reattached.
“It suits you well.”
Dehart’s eyes narrowed as he laughed wryly. His gaze was fixed on the crucifix in his hand.
There had been times when he vaguely hoped that they could become a real couple someday. Once, there was a time when he was filled with dreams of a future that seemed unattainable, like a sweet fantasy that might become reality.
But it wasn’t meant to be.
Her betrayal felt so cold and sharp. On that day, Dehart slammed the door of her heart shut.
“You were the one who abandoned me first.”
With those innocent eyes, you made me trust you, and with that beautiful smile, you deceived me.
“And then you used lies to win my heart, only to mock me.”
With a clattering sound, the window opened, and a strong wind swept through the carriage, making the silver chain of the necklace sparkle and strike the window frame.
“…”
A dark shadow fell over Dehart’s golden eyes, and he slowly pulled back the hand that held the cross. And then, with a loud crash, the carriage shook.
BANG!
The horse’s startled whinny echoed through the cold air. Dehart pulled his fist away from the wall and sighed deeply.
“Are you all right, my Lord?” the coachman inquired, and a couple of knights began to approach him.
“It’s fine,” Dehart replied, raising his hand to dismiss them before closing the window. The crushed crucifix glowed dully in his hand.
He felt pathetic.
If it had been Nelia, would we have spent our anniversary together?
He pondered the unanswered question, realizing it was a question not worth answering.
Ridiculous.
Dehart forced his eyes shut, hoping that the nightmares would cease. But alas, his parents never listened to his pleas.
He drifted into a dream of the past.
* * *
It was the first night they spent together after their marriage.
Dehart stood in front of the door, his knuckles white from clenching his fists, contemplating whether to enter or turn away. However, his indecision quickly dissipated. The door creaked open, and with it, Sebelia appeared.
“Oh.”
“…”
Their eyes met. They both regarded each other with a mixture of caution and mild curiosity. Sebelia, with her head slightly lowered like a cat, peered up at him and pushed the door open a little wider.
“Please come in.”
Dehart narrowed his eyes and observed her intently. He noticed her pale cheeks, trembling fingertips, and watery eyes.
Finally, he spoke in a gruff voice. “I despise people with bad sleeping habits. Know that if you bother me in the slightest, I’ll leave.”
Sebelia’s wide, bright blue eyes narrowed in response to his words. She grabbed his sleeve and spoke with an innocent tone. “It’s alright. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
“…I’m serious, my Lady.”
“I’m serious, too.”
After a moment of exchanged glances, the two spent their first night without their hands touching even once. It was a modest and uneventful beginning. However, it was a beginning that allowed them to dream of an ordinary future.
Though it would ultimately end in the betrayal he’d anticipated.
