After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 81
Claude still remembered the past vividly. It was the day before he had to leave the Capital with Guilland’s family when he received a letter from his old friend and lieutenant.
It was new that he had finally caught the traitor they had been tracking for months.
[At last!]
Claude rushed straight to Guilland to explain the situation. Since they were not far from the northern route, he suggested taking a detour to apprehend the traitor along the way.
[Claude, calm down. Leave the job to your lieutenant. There’s no need for us to personally intervene.]
But Guilland seemed troubled, and Claude couldn’t understand why. As a father, how could Guilland not take matters into his own hands against someone who dared to threaten his son’s life? It seemed utterly incomprehensible to Claude.
[If that’s the case, then I’ll go myself. I’ll go out there, chop his head, and present it to Dehart. Let’s see who my nephew will trust more then.]
[Claude!]
The one who restrained him as he tried to dash out was his sister-in-law—dear, sweet Iris, who didn’t deserve to meet such a miserable end.
[We’re far away, and it’s alright as long as you and Claude stay close.]
Even then, he didn’t know what Guilland was so afraid of. He was too consumed by his crusade for justice that it blinded him to his brother’s concerns.
[Don’t worry, dear sister. I’ll be sure to avenge Dehart.]
It was only when they were attacked on that rugged mountain path, when he was entrusted with the children by his dying brother, and when he read the threatening letters that came with valuables in his brother’s arms, that Claude realized his recklessness.
[This, what is…]
Only then, when it was far too late, did Claude grow up and become an adult. Tears were streaming down his face as he headed towards the cliff to bait and throw off the assassins, leaving behind the young children he was supposed to protect.
So don’t hold it against him, Claude.
He gritted his teeth and pressed down on Dehart’s limbs. He could feel his nephew’s eyes, still full of life, on him as he struggled, and he forced himself to stay alive.
I’m not going to tell you anything.
Claude wouldn’t tell him that he was sorry or about the pain and loneliness he endured himself all these years. He wouldn’t explain, pleading for Dehart’s understanding or sympathy.
“Ugh…!”
He couldn’t bring himself to inflict more wounds on this boy who cried out to him with eyes that still haven’t fully healed. If possible, if only he could, Claude wished he could transfer Dehart’s agony to himself.
Guilland, brother. Please, don’t let this child suffer any more.
Claude prayed fervently as he pushed himself up with an exhausted look on his face.
And please, somehow, let me find Rosaline.
The thought that somewhere he didn’t know, Rosaline might be crying out in pain like Dehart, drove him mad.
* * *
It was early in the morning when Sebelia ran into Claude.
“Miss Bella.”
Sebelia had just returned from a short walk, unable to sleep. The sight of Claude descending the stairs almost made her stumble backwards. It was like seeing a walking corpse.
“…Are you alright?”
It felt like every time she met the people in this house, she asked the same question. Claude smiled mechanically at Sebelia’s words. But then, as if he didn’t have the energy, soon returned to his expressionless face.
“Come on, get back to bed, a good night’s sleep is important for a patient.”
Claude staggered to the kitchen. Sebelia followed, worried that he might stumble. As they sat down, he started brewing a rich cocoa.
“…Would you like a cup?”
Claude asked as he stirred the strong cocoa. Sebelia hesitated, then nodded. The two sat across from each other and shared a silence. There wasn’t much to say, and Claude was visibly exhausted. She understood his situation and made no effort to speak to him. But their agreed-upon silence was broken the very next moment.
The moonlight streamed in through the window, reflecting off his golden eyes. Claude’s expression, meeting Sebelia’s gaze, suddenly turned desperate, and he asked out of nowhere.
“Are you sure you don’t know anything about Dehart’s condition?”
After speaking, Claude looked flustered. It seemed to have popped out, perhaps unconsciously.
“No, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn. Watts is looking into it, so we should find out soon. He mentioned having migraines, so it’s probably related to that. I’m not in my right mind right now…”
But it was enough to convince Sebelia.
So he knew Dehart from the beginning.
Yes, otherwise he wouldn’t be so eager to cure him, and he wouldn’t be asking her like this. Blinking still, Sebelia suddenly remembered Claude’s words.
“If it was a migraine… wouldn’t he have carried medication with him?”
“We searched everywhere, and there was nothing like that on him.”
Sebelia tilted her head, watching Claude’s shoulders sag.
“That’s strange. Come to think of it, did he have his coat with him?”
Claude’s eyes widened at Sebelia’s question, as he realized that Dehart was very particular about being meticulously dressed when he went out. There was no way he would have come all this way in just a shirt.
