My Husband Never Dies - Chapter 23

The captain stared at his hand lying in a pool of blood, disbelieving, before the pain finally registered.

“Aaaaargh! M-my arm!”

His scream rang throughout the narrow cell, sharp enough to make Evelyn wince instinctively. But before the echo even died down, the captain began to crumble — his body disintegrating into fine ash, scattering like dust through the air.

It was so unreal that not only Evelyn, but even the surrounding guards stood frozen in shock.

“That’s it, then?”

A quiet voice shattered the deathly silence. Evelyn slowly closed her eyes and reopened them.

As if the guards had never been there at all, only the Duke of Brumfield remained in the cramped cell.

“Hmm? Eve.”

His sweetly coaxing whisper tickled her ear. His beautiful hand gently brushed her cheek, and the throbbing pain in her face melted away in an instant.

Instead of being shocked by the miraculous turn of events, Evelyn asked the one question that rose from deep within her — drained, subdued, and utterly overwhelmed by the being before her.

“Just one question. Who… are you?”

“Me?”

The Duke stepped casually onto the blood-slick floor, unfazed, and knelt again to sit eye level with her.

“Well? I could be anything, really.”

It was a vague answer, but Evelyn nodded. She didn’t want to probe further into a being far beyond her comprehension.

She had no formal education, no real skills besides killing. Whatever he said, she wouldn’t understand it anyway.

Instead, she held his gaze, eyes elegantly curved in their expression. His hand reached for her dislocated elbow. The dull, throbbing pain vanished in an instant.

“Anything my wife wishes.”

The gentle tone carried sincerity. But Evelyn wasn’t so easily swayed. Instead, she gave voice to the question that had been gnawing at her.

“…Are you going to kill me?”

“Of course not!”

The Duke frowned, as if the very thought of such a thing was absurd. Evelyn, thinking it disgusting how easily he feigned innocence, asked again — cool and steady.

“Then why did you send the prince’s eyeball?”

“I told you. It was a gift.”

“How could that possibly be a gift…”

She had killed people for a living, but not once had she ever gifted someone another person’s body part.

The duke seemed to sense Evelyn’s unspoken confusion and slowly shook his head once.

“Your contract with Adrian is settled. Isn’t that good news? I thought you’d be pleased that I saved you the trouble.”

Evelyn’s lips parted slightly. So that eyeball … wasn’t a warning, but an actual gift meant for her? Then why frame her as the prince’s killer? Her eyes wavered with confusion.

“Shall we go back, then?”

“…Back where?”

“To where we belong. Just the two of us.”

He reached for her again. His fingers beckoned, coaxing her to finally take his hand.

But Evelyn shook her head at once. The moment she imagined that twisted mansion where freedom did not exist, where logic and reality bent and snapped, her instincts screamed no.

“You must realize, Your Grace… Cal.”

She corrected herself mid-sentence. Cal?

The duke’s smile deepened, clearly delighted by the sound of his name from her lips. His eyes, so sweet and gentle as he looked at his “lovely wife,” were enough to make Evelyn’s skin crawl.

Because just now, that correction hadn’t been her decision. Her mouth had moved on its own.

Perhaps compelled by the duke’s will.

“Eve, you are a princess.”

Evelyn stared at the beautiful being before her, bewildered. Now that Adrian’s mission had failed, she had to return to being Evelia Locke, not the princess.

“You’re a real princess.”

The duke emphasized the word real, before smiling and adding:

“And a duchess too.”

His deep voice echoed through the narrow underground prison, vibrating in the still air.

“It means you’re mine.”