After I Died, My Husband Went Mad [EN]: Chapter 3

Rash felt Dehart’s grip on her hand tighten. Her own lips trembled.

“…Dehart, I’m just worried about you.”

“I know that very well. You raised me in place of my parents, with these very hands.”

Their eyes met.

“So, don’t worry about anything, and please believe that I will return safely.”

“…Okay.”

Rash fell silent, meeting his intense gaze.

* * *

In the end, Rash had no choice but to let Dehart leave. The butler, who had been observing them, approached him.

“Rash-nim [term of respect],”

“Send this to Lynn Post.”

Rash handed the butler a letter, watching the spot where Dehart had disappeared. The letter, which bore no sender’s name, had been prepared by Gren, Dehart’s wife, and contained information that would soon influence a crucial decision for Inverness.

‘If you can’t do it, we’ll have to.’

Rash turned away as the carriage vanished from sight, his eyes filled with grim resolve.

* * *

The setting sun cast long shadows through the curtains, painting the desolate room in a red glow. Soon, the lively sound of horse hooves and Dehart’s departing carriage faded into the distance. Sebelia, who had been peering through a gap in the curtains, returned to her seat and stared down at her pale hands.

They were pretty, delicate hands, seemingly incapable of any real work. Useless hands that couldn’t hold another’s, or even pluck a simple flower.

‘That’s my reality.’

Sebelia smiled bitterly and clasped her hands together.

He was finally gone. He hadn’t given her a chance, not even for a moment, offering no opportunity until the very end.

“It’s strange.”

Sebelia smiled wryly and swept her hair back. At times, his cold and merciless attitude felt almost… refreshing.

Sebelia returned to her seat, recalling the words Denisa had spoken – words that had unlocked a new path to freedom.

“You possess the ability of an illusionist, Miss.”

Sebelia’s breath hitched at Denisa’s secretive whisper. A forgotten memory surfaced – a memory deliberately suppressed due to her father’s constant abuse.

“When you were young, the Marquis [noble title] was always angry, saying you were seeing things.”

Her imaginary friends who filled her lonely room. The blue and red birds that adorned the night sky whenever she trembled with fear.

“That’s likely an ability inherited from your mother.”

Denisa stated with certainty. Otherwise, the Marquis wouldn’t have tried so vehemently to suppress Sebelia’s powers. Sebelia agreed.

“He said it was the power of an impure demon…”

Her father had always said that, locking Sebelia in the closet or tying her to a tree.

“It’s been too long. I can’t remember how to do it at all.”

She clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to summon her power. Had too much time passed? She couldn’t find a spark.

‘Please, I have to escape this house.’

I need this power.

With a desperate heart, Sebelia prayed to an unknown entity. How long had she remained like that?

“Ah.”

Along with blurred vision, she felt a surge of hot energy being drawn out. She opened her clenched hand. A small bird, its wings like flickering flames, materialized in her palm. It was undoubtedly the power of an illusionist.

“Thank goodness.”

Sebelia stared blankly at the tiny bird before releasing it into the air.

Tweet-

A soft, chick-like cry echoed. The downy blue bird was small and unimpressive, far too small for the energy she had expended. But joy filled Sebelia’s eyes as she watched it. She had succeeded.

This was an opportunity, a chance given to her.

The only chance for Sebelia to disappear completely.

“I’m going to create a dead version of myself with this ability and leave.”

She planned to fake her death using illusions. As Denisa had warned, running away without a plan would likely result in them hunting her down in Weden later. And her husband? She doubted he would even care to follow.

Would the city’s elite try to track her down?

“But if I really die…”

If they placed a convincing corpse in a coffin and held a funeral before their very eyes…

Even if they encountered her by chance, they wouldn’t believe it was the same person.

‘Because they held my funeral with their own hands.’

The thought brought a smile to her lips.

‘Funerals are usually held for three days… I have to endure that time.’

Sebelia, having created another blue bird, felt a flicker of happiness for the first time in a long while.

Was this the will to live? Or simply a driving force?

‘It’s funny that I’m feeling it now, when it’s time to die.’

Sebelia remained locked in her room for a long time afterward, forgetting to eat and focusing solely on her practice.

Unsurprisingly, not a single servant knocked on her door all night.

* * *

Dehart, who had been quietly sitting with his eyes closed in the carriage, suddenly coughed violently, as if seized by a fit.

“Damn it.”

Simultaneously, a pain that felt like a drill boring into his brain, and a sensation of something tightening around his head, overwhelmed him. His arms and legs tingled, and his heart began to race erratically.

“Damn it. Can’t even get through a single day in peace.”

Dehart chuckled humorlessly, as if dumbfounded. He pulled a vial from his coat and roughly poured its contents into his mouth.

“Such a kind family, they never let me forget, not even for a day.”

He muttered self-deprecatingly, clenching the vial tightly. It was an unconscious gesture.

Suddenly, the vial shattered, the fragments scattering across the floor with a clatter.

“Kuk… !”

A groan of pain escaped his lips.

His debilitating illness stemmed from a horrific family tragedy.

The familiar pain had tormented him every day since his entire family was murdered before his eyes.

His doctor, one of the few who knew about his condition, attributed it to guilt, but Dehart vehemently denied it.

‘This is a curse.’

As if resenting him for surviving, his dead family haunted his dreams.

Bleeding and dying, they always reached out to him, begging him to save them, to join them, complaining of the cold and loneliness…

“Damn it.”

Dehart realized he had bitten his lip raw. Blood trickled down his scarred hand.

He glared at his bloodied hand and leaned against the wall, as if about to bang his head against it.

“Ha…”

The medicine was slowly taking effect. He breathed deeply, feeling the sensations in his body dulling. But unlike usual, his mind only grew clearer. And a voice he desperately wanted to forget echoed in his ears.

[I have something to say.]

Damn it. Dehart frowned.

‘Why did you make that face?’

You’re the one who was wrong. You betrayed me first, tried to gain my trust with lies…

Dehart clenched his teeth. He tried to erase Sebelia’s unfamiliar expression, burned into his memory. He tried to extinguish the image of the woman who stood tall like a lily blooming behind him. But just as he couldn’t erase the pain, he couldn’t banish Sebelia from his thoughts.

[Would you have been the same even if I was Nelia?]

A dry voice echoed in his ears. At the same time, the necklace he usually didn’t even notice seemed to tighten around his neck.

The necklace with the blue jewel she had given him long ago.

“…Tsk.”

He fumbled with the clasp, trying to remove the necklace, but his rough movements only caused more irritation.

“This.”

He smiled at his reflection in the window. Ah, this. Wasn’t it like wearing a severed neck?

“It suits me well.”

Dehart’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. His gaze fell on the cross in his hand.

He had vaguely hoped that one day he could become a real couple with her.

There was a time when he indulged in the dream of a sweet, impossible future, a dream that would never be granted to him, might actually become reality.

‘But it wasn’t.’

Her betrayal, that cold and brutal day of betrayal.

That day, Dehart slammed the door of his heart shut once more.

“You abandoned me first.”

Making me believe with those innocent eyes, bewitching me with that beautiful smile, and so…

“You gained my heart with lies and deceived me.”

With a click, the window flew open. A strong wind swept through the carriage, and the silver chain of the necklace clanged against the window frame.

“…”

A dark shadow fell over Dehart’s golden eyes. He slowly drew back the hand holding the cross, like a child preparing to throw a stone. Then, with a roar, the carriage lurched violently.

Bang!

The startled horse’s cry pierced the cold air. Dehart pulled his fist away from the wall and sighed deeply.

“Duke, are you alright?”

Following the coachman’s inquiry, a couple of knights attempted to approach.

“It’s fine.”

Dehart waved them away and closed the window. The shattered end of the cross gleamed dully in his hand.

He felt pathetic.

‘If it was Nelia, would you have spent your wedding anniversary together?’

He swallowed a sigh, dwelling on the unanswerable question, the question that wasn’t worth answering.

‘What a joke.’

Dehart forced his eyes shut, hoping for the return of the nightmares. But unfortunately, his parents never granted his wish.

He drifted into a dream of the past.

* * *

It was the first night after the wedding.

Dehart stood silently, arms crossed, before the door, unsure whether to enter or retreat. But his hesitation quickly dissipated. With a click, Sebelia opened the door.

“Ah.”

“…”

Their eyes met. They cautiously, and with a hint of curiosity, examined each other. Sebelia tilted her head like a cat and looked up at him, then pushed the door open a little wider.

“Come in.”

Dehart narrowed his eyes, studying her intently.

Her cheeks were pale, as if she was nervous; her fingertips trembled slightly, and her eyes were watery. Finally, he blurted out in a blunt tone.

“I hate people with bad sleeping habits. If I’m bothered even a little, I’ll leave immediately, so keep that in mind.”

However she interpreted his words, her round blue eyes curved into a smile. She grabbed his sleeve and said casually.

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight anyway.”

“…I’m serious, wife.”

“I’m serious too.”

Their eyes met once more, and so the two spent their first night without even touching fingertips. It was an awkward and uneventful beginning. But that’s precisely why it was a beginning where they could have dreamed of an ordinary future.

Although the end resulted in the betrayal he had always expected.