After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 49
Pressing down on the likely bruised side, Dehart widened his eyes.
What in the world?
Denisa momentarily held her breath but quickly regained her composure.
Let’s stay calm for now.
Taking a deep breath, she greeted him in an extremely polite, yet distant manner.
“It’s been a long time, my Lord. What brings you here?”
It was an impeccable greeting, but there was no apology for swinging the umbrella. To that extent, Dehart’s prediction about her cursing upon seeing his face wasn’t entirely wrong, given the circumstances.
“I’ve heard rumors about the unsettling atmosphere at Hillend Hall lately…”
Denisa trailed off, glancing briefly at Dehart’s appearance. His black hair was completely disheveled. This coat, though undoubtedly made of fine material, was thrown on haphazardly as if trying to match those eyes that seemed to flicker with madness. He looked like he was about to fall into despair at any movement over the loss of a loved one.
Could it be that the tabloids were right?
That he had lost his reason due to the grief of losing the Duchess—was it indeed true?
To dare to come like this.
Denisa’s demeanor grew increasingly frosty at his audacity. Dehart gazed back at her with a crooked smile.
“Help someone who seems in danger, and instead of gratitude, I find myself dealing with a maid who gets violent with their former master.”
Seeing Denisa looking surprised at his words, he pressed firmly on his injured side. He was terribly frustrated at the absurdity of this situation, but he had to hold back.
“I believe there’s something you and I need to discuss.”
Denisa was the closest person who knew the truth about Sebelia’s death, the only one.
* * *
Meanwhile, Sebelia was steadily deteriorating due to her illness.
“… I can’t eat.”
She swallowed dryly, even though the food in front of her was nothing compared to the poor fare she had been eating at Hillend Hall. As delicious as they looked, they would probably turn to stone the moment they passed down her throat.
With a bitter smile, Sebelia took a sip of the watery soup.
“Ha…”
In her calm, resolute gaze, a hint of regret flickered.
“Yes, this is my fate. For a moment, I was almost swayed by a false hope.”
She chuckled, a laugh tinged with resignation.
No matter how much she thought about it… it was undoubtedly Reese’s disease she was afflicted with. Sebelia recalled the words of the Ursic physician while slowly sipping lukewarm water.
[Currently, it’s at a stage where internal organs are slowing down, but as time goes on, you will also gradually lose the ability to move your hands and feet.]
Just this morning, Sebelia stumbled out of bed and twisted her ankle. In the process, she slightly injured her shoulders and back. And it wasn’t her fuzzy mental state or the fluffy rug under her feet that caused this tragic accident.
“…I couldn’t put any strength into it.”
At that moment, her feet and hands, which had become as stiff as wood chips, were the culprits.
“How could this happen?”
Sebelia was deeply shaken. When she met the physician again afterwards, he looked at her with pity as he spoke.
[…Even if it’s Reese’s disease, that man must have a way to help you, so don’t give up, Go find him.]
Why do they wish for her to live so fervently?
Sebelia, momentarily puzzled, looked at her reflection in the mirror and realized.
…I… I hoped it wasn’t an incurable disease.
Gazing into her blue eyes, she saw a tired, worn-out despair and came to a realization. In truth, she wanted to be cured. She had some hope, a glimmer of expectation. And she wished someone would bolster that hope and certainty, waiting for a letter from Denisa, hoping she’d push her to seek treatment.
Denisa would definitely tell me to go find a cure.
Why was she such a coward?
Lost in contemplation, Sebelia was interrupted by the hotel clerk approaching her.
“Are you the guest staying in room 204?”
“Yes, what can I do for you?”
“Since you weren’t in your room, I came to find you. This urgent letter just arrived at our desk.”
The clerk cautiously placed a white envelope on the table.
Sebelia had a bad feeling about this.
