The Abandoned and Terminally Ill Lady Married a Monster - Chapter 47
Chapter 47
“Why don’t you have some dessert before you go to work?”
‘It’s not having some, it’s him making sure I have some.’
But my resolve crumbled.
‘He barely ate anything himself while making sure I ate, so it’s only right to make sure he has something before he leaves.’
Right, he’ll need his strength for work. Well, I’ve never worked a day in my life, so what do I know? Besides, to maintain a physique like that, he needs to eat more than I do just to stay full. I had truly intended to stand firm, but my heart softened again. Still avoiding eye contact, I mumbled, “Fine, but only that. And don’t even think about anything else.”
“Then feed me.” Kin’s playful demeanor snapped me back to reality. Pointing at the door, I said, this time with far more conviction, “Get out.”
“You’re really not giving in, are you?” Kin chuckled, echoing his earlier words. He was the only one amused by this situation. Pointing at himself, he asked, “You really want me to leave?”
“Yes, leave.”
“I won’t ask you to feed me.”
“I don’t care. Leave.”
“But I’m hungry.” He’d already found my weakness. At his words, I glanced at him ever so slightly. The supposedly ‘hungry’ man was beaming, a picture of pure joy. It was obvious he was lying. And he must have been watching me intently, because even that slight glance resulted in our eyes meeting. He seized the opportunity, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“You… Get out, now!”
“Such a firm command. I have no choice.” He finally got up, his words laced with mock disappointment, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. I fumed, glaring at him, but he simply winked.
“See you later. I’ll finish quickly and be back.”
‘I won’t see you. I won’t. And don’t come back quickly. I won’t welcome you.’
I didn’t turn my head until I heard the door open and close again. Only when I was completely alone did I remember my original intention.
‘I let that foolish Kin sway me.’
Mortified, I covered my face with my hands, trembling. ‘Why am I so easily manipulated?’ I berated myself for my inability to refuse or demand anything properly, gnawing on the inside of my cheek.
‘This isn’t the time for this. I can’t continue this marriage with Kin.’
‘He needs to be with someone… normal… someone he can be happy with.’
I imagined Kin promising forever to a faceless, unknown woman. Whoever she was, she would undoubtedly be a far better match for him than I could ever be. Kin had a bad reputation, but I knew the rumors were false.
He would probably treat his new wife well, just as he treated me. He’d greet her sweetly each morning, tease her playfully, just like he did with me. Continuing down this train of thought left me strangely melancholic. Melancholic? Fear gripped me.
Emotions were a luxury for someone about to die. I shook my head fiercely, trying to banish the feelings that were already taking root.
‘Get a grip. I don’t belong here.’
I knew that, knew it deep in my bones. ‘Don’t act like a child.’ I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘Now, what reason should I give for the divorce?’
I didn’t want Kin to know I was terminally ill. I wanted to keep that from him. It was the last shred of my pride. I had thought that since Kin already knew my family secrets, I would be able to be completely open and honest with him. But now I had another secret, and this one was even harder to share, even with him. ‘How can I tell him?’
‘How can I tell him that I only have a year left to live, and that it’s because of a medicine my own mother gave me? The Duke’s physicians are so skilled; they’ll know immediately what’s wrong with me.’
It wasn’t that physicians outside the aristocracy were incompetent, but they lacked the resources available to those employed by noble families. The aristocratic physicians had access to research funding and the best medical equipment, creating an undeniable difference in quality.
The physicians attached to a family with a history of power surges, like the Duke’s, would be especially knowledgeable about illnesses related to abilities. They would likely identify the medicine I had been taking within days, or even hours.
‘A medicine discontinued a century ago due to severe side effects, a medicine said to amplify even the smallest of abilities.’
It had taken me years to find the name and effects of that drug. The Duke’s physicians might figure it out almost instantly. A medicine with negligible benefits and almost guaranteed side effects: Taumiel.
The official name of my illness was Taumiel’s Disease. Those unfamiliar with it often mistook it for other ailments, but whether misdiagnosed or correctly identified, the prognosis remained the same: hopeless.
