After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 30
For how long?
Dehart, his hand on his chin, looked at Roger who sat across from him, completely knocked out.
How long have they been planning to take out Sebelia?
The question had been hanging over Dehart’s head the entire time in that pitch-black room. It couldn’t have come out of nowhere. Slowly blinking his eyes, Dehart chewed on his lip. Yes, it clearly has been in the works for a long time because…
“Get up, Uncle.”
Dehart smiled coldly and stared at Roger, pinned to the chair—his family dared to scheme behind his back.
“What a perfect situation, what a perfect time, this has been a long time coming.”
Dehart’s golden eyes sank coldly. Sebelia’s isolation in the mansion, the sudden rumors that started floating around, and the circumstances that made him leave just in time for their anniversary.
“Ha.”
Dehart let out a brief chuckle. He stared at Roger, who began twitching ever so slightly, with his cold eyes.
After sending Ryan away, Dehart brought the struggling Roger here, rendering him unconscious. He locked all the doors and drew thick curtains over the windows, ensuring that whatever horrific event might occur inside remained unknown to the outside world. Dehart waited like a predatory beast for Roger to awaken.
As dawn broke, Roger’s body jolted violently and his eyes darted open.
“…!”
Roger saw nothing but darkness.
“De… Dehart. Dehart?” With a sinking voice, Roger called out to him again. Dehart, with closed eyes, listened to his trembling voice.
He then opened his eyes.
“Uncle.”
Roger’s shoulders stiffened at the deep tone that echoed as if they were in a cavern. “I can explain everything.”
He realized that the man before him was simply his nephew anymore. No longer was this man an insecure child clinging to him in the bonds of family, leaning on the shadow of a father he didn’t remember.
Yet, at the same time, Roger believed until the end that Dehart valued Inverness. He pinned his last hope on the fact that he could serve his family better than Sebelia, a mere bastard woman from the Capital.
“…As you’ve noticed,” Roger began, “Glenn and I were against this marriage from the very beginning.”
And so the tale began, going further and further back into the past, until finally Roger let out a dry cough, signaling the end of the story.
Boom!
A dazzling light pierced through the shaking curtains, cutting through the darkness.
“Do you realize the implications of what you two have done?” The figure standing alone in the darkness stiffened in the cold light. “Deceiving her was bad enough, but to…!”
“Dehart, it was unavoidable.”
“Telling her to help the man who killed my parents was unavoidable?”
Dehart’s eyes blazed a pure white. Thunder roared, shaking the earth. On that day, the townspeople trembled in hushed silence as dozens, even hundreds of lightning bolts struck the ground.
* * *
When he came to his senses, he found himself on the road.
“Ah.”
Dehart swept the dripping water from his hair.
The downpour had suddenly intensified, pelting his body fiercely. He tied his horse to a tree and sat down beside it.
“Damn it.”
Dehart tried hard to recall what happened just moments ago. He remembered taking the horse from the stables and rushing out of the city. But the memories before that…
“….”
Dehart’s face turned ashen. He looked as if he had been strangled. Memories that had been locked in shock surged back to the surface.
[Glenn convinced that girl. She said it would win back your favor.]
His uncle and aunt used Sebelia to fulfill their self-interest in the name of serving the family.
[We were only acting in the best interest of the family, since you insisted on keeping that bastard who should have been thrown away!]
They knew he’d be angry; they knew he’d be hurt…
They intentionally urged her to help the Eastern disaster area.
“They probably did it to make me completely turn my back on her.”
Dehart covered his enraged eyes and let out an empty laugh. Yes, just as they had anticipated, he pushed Sebelia away. He had no reason not to.
“At that time, I was almost at the brink of losing my sanity…”
The ladies of noble houses don’t typically help disaster victims directly. They organize charity events or social gatherings, channeling the funds to the lords of the disaster areas. And the person Sebelia was trying to contact was none other than the Archduke of Calais.
The Archduke was one of the main accomplices of his youngest uncle, who is believed to have killed Dehart’s parents, and someone who refused to aid in searching the accident site.
Who could look at a wife who tries to distribute money, supposedly to help the one who killed my parents, with kind eyes?
Even more so when she already had a history of betraying his trust.
[Didn’t I tell you to know your place!]
And so, he treated her even more savagely and disdainfully. Droplets of water trickled down his chin.
“Ha…”
Dehart buried his face in his hands. The wind lashed at his back.
