My Husband Never Dies - Chapter 36
The westering sun still blazed. Dalebury, located farther south than the capital, had long summers and even longer days.
People out to enjoy the festival and night market cast sidelong glances at Evelyn. Reverent eyes trailed after someone clearly of high rank. Evelyn, who had spent so long avoiding attention, found their stares unwelcome.
“Let’s go.”
With practiced steps, she headed toward the night market entrance. Before she’d been trapped in Zelakent, she’d been to countless festivals — not to enjoy them, but because targets let their guard down when they were distracted by merriment. It made killing them easier.
“My lady, look at this!”
Laura pointed to a stall right at the market’s entrance. A table cluttered with cheap accessories had clearly caught her eye.
“Wow… they’re so pretty.”
“Want one? I’ll buy it for you.”
“Huh? Oh no, that’s quite all right!”
“If you want it, then buy it. Don’t hold back. Who knows when you’ll get to come out again?”
Prompted by both her own desire and her lady’s encouragement, Laura hesitantly stepped closer to the stall.
The cheap accessories spread out on the table were mostly odd in design. Unlike the expensive pieces nestled in Evelyn’s jewelry box, these were garish and crude — almost offensively so. That Laura found such things pretty made Evelyn seriously question her maid’s taste.
The stall owner was a wrinkled old woman, her face etched deeply with age. With clouded, unfocused eyes, she gave Laura a passing glance — only to fixate squarely on Evelyn standing behind her.
“What brings someone like you here? Don’t seem the type for a place like this.”
There was not a trace of politeness in the old woman’s voice. Laura, affronted, raised her head sharply and spoke with irritation.
“Hey! How dare you…”
Evelyn held up her hand, silently stopping Laura before she could say more. But Laura, clearly upset, pursed her lips in frustration.
“My lady, I’m fine. I don’t want to buy anything here anymore.”
“Won’t you regret it?”
“Of course not.”
Laura shook her head firmly just as the hunched old woman let out a raspy chuckle.
“Such a… tragic fate indeed.”
The words unexpectedly caught Evelyn’s attention. As Laura, her face twisted in frustration, was about to respond again, Evelyn cut her off with a sharp question.
“Me?”
Evelyn’s eyes locked onto the old woman, and Laura, worried, gently gripped Evelyn’s arm, her voice low.
“My lady, please don’t engage with her. It’s not worth it…”
“What can I say? Such is fate.”
The old woman’s dry reply followed Laura’s whisper. Evelyn, who had been staring at the old woman, suddenly walked past the stall and up to the old woman.
“My lady…!”
Laura, flustered, was about to call Evelyn.
“Fate?”
Evelyn bent down, tilting her head toward the old woman, and let out a hollow laugh before continuing in a low, menacing tone.
“You speak of fate. What the fxck do you think you know? You think you understand my fxcked up circumstances?”
The old woman clicked her tongue, showing no sign of fear as she watched Evelyn’s terrifying presence. Evelyn’s eyes narrowed at the old woman’s unflappable, unflinching demeanor.
“Never forget that all wisdom is passed down from ancestors.”
“Cut the bullshxt…”
“Daughter of Dalebury.”
Evelyn, who had been about to retort harshly, paused. Her green eyes wavered. Her slightly parted lips opened and closed a few times.
The old woman had spoken clearly. The name “Dalebury.”
Whether Evelyn was truly Evelyn Dalebury or not, the truth of it didn’t matter. She hadn’t been advertising who she was, nor had she marked her carriage with any crest, yet the old woman had somehow noticed.
“You… who are you?”
Evelyn asked in a voice that sounded almost possessed, and the old woman let out a soft, wheezing laugh. The sound was muffled by a raspy throat, yet somehow it felt light-hearted.
‘Fxck.’
A chill ran down Evelyn’s spine.
She felt… strange.
Evelyn wasn’t the type to believe in superstitions. While she did follow her instincts, she made decisions based on her experience, thoroughly relying on her own judgment.
Unlike those who clung to fortune-tellers due to their anxious lives, Evelyn didn’t trust them. Her life was clear, so there was no need for any form of divination.
But now, for the first time, she felt a sense of urgency. The old woman’s words seemed important, and her instinctive gut feeling wrapped around her. A hope began to slowly rise within her, a feeling that perhaps this might be the way to find the path lost in the fog.
To pay for the information, Evelyn detached a gem from her dress and threw it among the cheap trinkets on the stall.
Still looking at the worried Laura, Evelyn spoke.
“Let’s go back.”
“Of course, my lady!”
Laura, who had bowed her head, started to follow Evelyn but shot a disdainful glance at the old woman. To her, this was a crook who made cryptic statements, no better than a scam artist.
With a growing sense of unease, Laura whispered to Evelyn.
“My lady, don’t pay any attention to what that woman says.”
“Alright.”
Without the slightest hesitation, Evelyn nodded, and Laura let out a sigh of relief. She had been worried that her lady might have been disturbed by the woman’s strange words.
Meanwhile, the old woman, watching the two of them slowly walk away, muttered in a tone that was neither high nor low.
“It won’t change anything, anyway.”
On that hot, humid summer evening, a faint fog, which shouldn’t have been there, began to settle over the entire market.
The mist was so thin that no one could notice it, but it quietly followed the unadorned carriage without a family crest and gradually began to disappear.
