We're Married, After All - Chapter 78
I couldn’t be sure how effective my life-risking standoff had been. Judging by Danel’s strained expression whenever I briefly woke up, Petios hadn’t been found—at least not yet.
…Or perhaps the opposite was true. Maybe Petios was already dead, and Danel was burning hallucinogenic herbs in my room to keep me in the dark.
Since that day, a large incense burner filled with herbs had appeared in the bedroom. The smoke never stopped rising—it burned endlessly due to the sheer amount of herbs packed inside.
As a result, I remained drugged and asleep for most of the time. When I did wake, it felt like days—or even weeks—had passed, though I couldn’t be sure if my memories were accurate. Every moment I spent conscious felt like a vivid hallucination.
What I did know for certain was how rare it was to awaken with such clarity.
I glanced down at myself with hazy eyes. My belly had grown larger—again. I’d been shocked by its size the last time I woke up, but seeing it now made me realize it hadn’t even been that swollen back then.
Slowly, I placed a trembling hand over my belly.
“Winter must be far gone by now.”
It was always the same. Each time I woke, my belly was frighteningly larger. I sometimes feared I might burst open in my sleep.
I gently stroked my stomach, noting how thin and frail my arms had become. My body looked as if it hadn’t eaten in ten days—yet I felt no hunger or thirst. Someone must have been feeding me while I was unconscious, though the effort seemed pointless.
Ever since Danel started drugging me, I’d been consumed by intense apathy. I lost all will to do anything—from chewing food to imagining a future with the child I carried.
And as my will faded, so did my body’s vitality. Even when the incense burner occasionally went out and I regained consciousness, I would just lie there, motionless. My body seemed sustained only by the life growing within me.
That must have been why Danel hadn’t used the herbs earlier. Prolonged exposure couldn’t have been good for a pregnant woman’s body.
Still, keeping me in a drugged stupor must’ve been convenient for him—no escape attempts, no resistance.
Thinking back, even from the moment he built that iron-fenced garden, it seemed Danel didn’t want me to lose myself, despite keeping me trapped.
How ironic, I thought. We’ve never truly understood each other.
I felt a faint movement under my palm—a kick from the baby. Instantly, Danel’s face surfaced in my mind. He must’ve believed that everything would be fixed once the child was born.
Looking back, perhaps all my struggles had stemmed from a desperate desire to be at peace with Danel.
I’d wanted our marriage—our nights together—to work. I’d wanted to give him what he wanted, no matter how twisted or degrading his desires seemed.
I wasn’t as indifferent as Danel thought. Though I rarely wanted much, when I did, I pursued it with reckless abandon.
I’d stubbornly learned to ride horses without my brothers’ supervision, determined to master it on my own. I’d longed to glimpse the forbidden vault’s contents, even if it meant defying every rule.
When I wanted something, I pursued it until it was mine.
But that unpredictability must have terrified Danel. My constant defiance likely drove him to seize full control, spiraling us both into this catastrophic situation.
There’s nothing left to lose now.
Perhaps living in a drugged haze made it easier to endure. This endless cycle of frustration felt both bitterly hollow and strangely familiar.
“I suppose… this is more like Laurea Temesio.”
A dry, hollow laugh escaped my lips. It had been so long since I’d smiled that even my facial muscles felt stiff and unfamiliar.
Most of my life had been like this.
Pointless talents, efforts stolen by my brothers’ ambitions, and a forbidden vault I was never allowed to enter… Everything led to this same suffocating futility.
Maybe this was my destined life—to give birth, obey Danel’s commands, and live out the same empty existence as before.
It wouldn’t even be difficult. I’d always drifted along, carried by others. If I spent most of my days drugged, it might be easier than ever to surrender.
“…Just like now.”
I blinked slowly. I should’ve fallen asleep by now, but strangely, sleep didn’t come.
It had been so long since I’d thought so clearly. Looking at my skeletal arms felt almost surreal. Normally, I wouldn’t even have noticed. The hallucinogens had twisted my mind so thoroughly that I’d accepted even the strangest things without question.
Something’s wrong.
I glanced around the room.
The first thing I noticed was the incense burner. Its flames were dead. The fiery glow and curling smoke had vanished, leaving only dark, empty hollowness. The surrounding air was cold, suggesting the fire had gone out long ago.
The maids would’ve rekindled it by now…
But there was no one in sight. Even when I held my breath and strained to hear, I sensed no movement outside the door—not even the faintest vibration of footsteps.
Only eerie, suffocating silence remained.
I felt my way across the bed and slowly pushed myself upright. At first, I didn’t notice the absence of any sound when I moved—too startled to realize.
The shackle around my ankle… was gone.
“… …”
Staring blankly at my freed leg, I felt oddly disconnected from reality—perhaps a side effect of being conditioned to helplessness for so long.
I climbed off the bed, feeling the floor’s coldness under my bare feet. It felt alien, as though I didn’t belong there.
Cautiously, I took one step, then another, moving slowly across the room.
By the time I reached the sofa, something caught my eye—a small table set neatly with food. Under the soft candlelight sat preserved fruit and a thin soup—a simple meal, quietly waiting.
