After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 91
Chestnut-brown hair, cheerfully swaying above the shoulders. Blue eyes staring directly without fear or guilt. Dehart clenched his teeth at the unfamiliar sensation as he closed her small hand over his.
You’re more cunning than I expected.
He took Sebelia’s hand, ignoring the way Watts looked at him like he was mad. She smiled casually and shook it a couple times before pulling her hand away.
“Please have a seat.”
“…Yes.”
As Dehart sat down, he received the meal offered by Claude and inwardly clicked his tongue.
It certainly looked like she was surprised.
The moment he greeted her by name, as if they were meeting for the first time, Dehart saw her blue eyes widen with embarrassment, and he knew deep down she must have seen through his plan.
It’s a classic ruse: show a powerful man who’s going mad with longing for his other half, show him someone who looks like her, and use her to bring him down. Dehart thought that his opponent was employing such a tactic, and he decided to play into it.
It’s a trick that’s been played on stupid tyrants throughout history.
Those around the tyrant would seize the opportunity to find a lookalike of their lost love and tell that tyrant:
[She survived, but she lost all her memories.]
And the tyrants would believe them, and they would keep the imposter close only to be stabbed in the back later.
To think I’d be a victim of such a petty trick.
So Dehart decided to claim amnesia before she could. To her credit, she looked extremely bewildered upon hearing it.
If she is an imposter, and this is a trap…
Certainly, she was undoubtedly trying to exploit his guilt to completely break his spirit. And he knew very well what could make him desperately crumble.
Sebelia’s death.
Dehart was aware that if he experienced Sebelia’s death again, not in fantasy or nightmare but in reality, he would become irreversibly undone. And his enemies were probably well-aware of this.
No, not just my enemies, but the entire Empire probably knows at this point.
He chuckled coldly to himself and grasped his knife. After Sebelia’s death, the atrocities he committed were spread across the Empire through the tabloids. The nobles at the Capital, in particular, undoubtedly knew very well why he had done what he had done.
He had personally traveled all the way to the Capital, hoping to unearth some secret behind Sebelia’s death.
I don’t care what else they’ve done, but…they dare involve Sebelia in their schemes. It seems like they’ve lost their minds and are practically begging me to end their lives.
He could endure self-deprecation, mockery, or insults, even cursing his accursed lineage. However, Sebelia was the one thing his enemies shouldn’t have touched. Dehart took a deep breath, forcing strength into his trembling hands.
“… Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
Giving Claude a dismissive smile, Dehart popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.There was only one reason he let the brunette Sebelia be. To catch the person beneath the surface and dare deceive him with that shell.
At that moment, Sebelia met his gaze with her soft voice.
“Would you like some more bread?”
Only then did Dehart realize that he had been staring too hard in her direction. He swallowed hard and shook his head urgently. He curled his hands into fists.
S**t.
No, it couldn’t be, he thought. Dehart fought to cover the hope that kept trying to surface within him. But as shallow as that hope was, his efforts did nothing to dim the sparkle in his eyes as he gazed upon her.
What should I do if she really is Sebelia?
The constant suspicion that he had ignored and forcibly turned away pierced his heart. Dehart took the bread from Sebelia’s hand and bit down hard on the delicate flesh in his mouth.
He wanted to strangle himself for continuing to think like those wretched tyrants.
When he’d first seen her in the square, he’d been overjoyed. He wanted to scream in ecstasy at the thought that she might be alive. He wanted to thank the heavens and offer prayers. He chased after her, saying it was okay as long as she was alive, regardless of whether she cursed or despised him.
But that was a profoundly arrogant thought. He only thought about her after she left, never considering anything before that foolish judgment.
If the brown-haired Sebelia before him was real… that meant she left his side of her own volition. It meant leaving a fake corpse in her stead, not caring if he cried out in pain or regret and running away from him.
[She had already said goodbye to the Duke in her heart.]
Denisa’s indifferent words echoed in his mind. It felt like dozens of blades were piercing his chest.
