After I Died, My Husband Went Mad [EN]: Chapter 32

The blue birds, which had been flying as if yearning for the sky, vanished without a trace in an instant. The onlookers, who had been captivated by the strange phenomenon, returned to their bickering, leaving Dihart frozen in place, as if time had stopped for him.

“Duke.”

Ilay called out. His brazen personality, usually so quick to take advantage, proved invaluable in moments like these.

“Are you alright?”

Even the usually oblivious Ilay couldn’t help but be taken aback by Dihart’s state.

In Dihart’s golden eyes, as he nodded, sparks seemed to dance, and his trembling hands were clenched into tight fists. All signs of confusion had vanished.

Only a chilling resolve emanated from him.

“Yes.”

Ilay felt an inexplicable pressure, like witnessing a flame flickering within ice. He felt helpless, as if watching a being capable of shattering the fragile ice at any moment and setting the world ablaze.

Ilay trembled involuntarily.

‘I’ve never seen this side of him before. Could this be his true self?’

Before joining Dihart’s service at the recommendation of his cousin Ryan, Ilay had never interacted with him closely. He had always perceived Dihart as hot-tempered, prone to rash judgments, and so obsessive that he would lose sight of everything else when fixated on a single issue.

In short, he considered him unfit to be a Duke.

But the Dihart before him was vastly different. He should have exploded like a firecracker upon encountering someone resembling the late Duchess, acting recklessly without regard for right or wrong…

Instead, he was chillingly composed.

To Ilay, this was not a good sign. Dihart was clearly mistaking the short-haired woman for the Duchess. If his composure was based on this delusion, the reaction upon realizing the truth would be even more devastating.

“…Are you absolutely certain it’s her?”

Ilay asked cautiously.

Dihart glared at him as if questioning his sanity. Ilay pressed on calmly, knowing he had to shatter this delusion before it solidified, for Dihart’s sake and for the sake of Inverness.

“Please don’t misunderstand me. At the funeral held at Hillend Hall… didn’t you see it with your own eyes?”

“…”

“You personally confirmed the Duchess’s passing. And everyone at Hillend Hall mourned her together.”

It was an undeniable truth. Even officials from the capital had verified Sebellia’s body.

“She still rests in the family cemetery at Hillend Hall, right next to the spot where you will eventually be laid to rest.”

Ilay’s pointed remark struck a nerve. The reality Dihart had been forcibly suppressing surged back as he clung to this newfound hope.

“Are you really sure?”

‘Why do you believe she is the Duchess?’

Ilay’s cautious question pierced his heart like an arrow. Dihart found himself unable to answer.

‘Because… because she is Sebellia.’

The reality was that he could only utter such nonsense. Dihart let out a hollow laugh, feeling as if thousands of needles were pricking his skin.

“…Is this what it feels like for a madman to realize he’s truly lost his mind?”

Ilay’s words poured cold water on him, dragging him back to reason. The stark reality that contradicted his hopes cooled his fevered brain.

His heart screamed that the woman he had just seen was real. But his mind, his experiences, and his reason insisted that she was merely a look-alike, and the real Sebellia was dead.

‘What is the truth? No, what do I want to believe is the truth?’

That fragile, desperate belief that Sebellia would never have taken her own life. He had come all this way clinging to that single belief. And now, she appeared before him, alive? Here, in this place, as he sought the final piece of the puzzle surrounding her death?

“Was it all an illusion?”

Dihart choked out the crumbling syllables in a broken voice.

“Did I think I saw it with my own eyes, but in reality, did I just want to see it that way?”

Had his hopeful mind finally snapped, causing him to mistake a hallucination for reality?

‘Did I… actually want her to be alive?’

It felt like sharp metal was scraping away at his insides, exposing the innermost thoughts he had been desperately trying to conceal.

The reason he had clung to the idea of a secret surrounding her death, even as others called him mad. The reason he had driven the remaining family members into the tower [likely a form of confinement or isolation] and abandoned the North.

The truth was that he couldn’t bear to believe she was dead.

He couldn’t accept her death.

‘At least if it wasn’t suicide, if she had been unjustly killed by someone… I think I could accept it, just a little bit.’

“Ha…”

A bloody hellscape spreading with a thick stench. In the midst of it, Dihart slowly blinked his whitening eyes.

Ilay watched Dihart calmly, hoping he would abandon this foolish belief that the Duchess was alive. But Dihart stared blankly at the sky, then spoke.

“…Station knights at the city’s south and west gates.”

“Yes?”

“Get cooperation from the Baron to strengthen nighttime security and patrols. The first priority is to prevent her from leaving the city.”

“Duke!”

Ilay’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Whether it’s a hallucination or not, whether it’s just my delusion or… whether there’s a secret I don’t know, I’ll find out when I meet her again.”

White lightning flashed in the golden eyes that had risen as brightly as the sun. Ilay swallowed hard at the sight.

The madman was beyond reason.

* * *

Following Dihart, Ilay pondered. Was his superior truly insane? Or, unbelievably, was the Duchess actually a twin? To the perceptive but rational Ilay, the idea of the Duchess being alive was an impossible contradiction.

Because the Duchess was dead. The funeral had been held according to protocol, and the death had been officially registered.

Erasing a person from the world was not something done carelessly. Numerous customs and the scrutiny of those who enforced them were involved.

‘But could the Duchess, who had been secluded in the mansion, have pulled off something like that?’

If the Duchess were truly alive, they would have had to find a convincing corpse first – a fresh corpse that looked exactly like her.

And that was impossible.

‘What to do?’

Ilay sighed as he watched Dihart issuing orders to the knights with perfect precision. If he allowed this to continue, more people would be hurt.

And the first victim would undoubtedly be the woman who resembled the Duchess. Ilay recalled the brown-haired woman who seemed confident, unlike the gaunt and lifeless Duchess he remembered.

Judging by the fact that she had fled, she must have had her reasons or sensed that the Duke was not in his right mind. She would undoubtedly try to leave the city, leading to an inevitable confrontation.

‘Since she’s going to be caught anyway, it’s better to extinguish the fire before it spreads.’

After a moment of contemplation, he finally approached Dihart.

“Duke.”

“Just in case, even in the ruins… what is it?”

Dihart, who was giving instructions, turned his head and stared at him. His eyes, which had been whitened with intensity, had already regained their brilliant gold.

Ilay carefully whispered in his ear.

“Actually, I know where the person you just met is staying.”

A piercing gaze met his. It was a look that threatened to cut him in half. Ilay swallowed hard.

‘Was I too hasty?’

No. If this hope was destined to be shattered, it was better to crush it before it could take root. Ilay steeled his resolve and told Dihart the address of the inn.

Dihart’s lips remained tightly shut.

* * *

Sebellia, having packed her bags, hurried down the hallway as if flying.

‘I’ll head to the hills through the back alley.’

She didn’t know what Dihart was thinking, but judging from his behavior, it was clear that she needed to avoid him.

‘I’ve never seen eyes like that before.’

They were terrifying eyes – eyes that had been betrayed by hope countless times, eyes that had been crushed by expectations hundreds of times. And then, eyes that seemed to be dreaming once more.

Sebellia felt goosebumps at the way Dihart had looked at her. And she instinctively understood.

The fact that she was ‘officially’ a dead person would mean nothing to him. The opportunity of her appearing before someone who had tasted frustration and despair so many times would render any rational argument meaningless.

So it was best to avoid him. If a confrontation was unavoidable, it was best to face him on equal footing.

“So, not now.”

If her memory served her correctly, the man by his side was the one who had previously mistaken her for Ryan. If so, there was a good chance he was a relative of Ryan’s.

‘There’s no way a Duke would travel with only one knight.’

As she hurried along, the street outside the window suddenly became noisy. Sebellia stopped and turned her head, her blue eyes widening in shock.

‘Already!’

She saw six or seven knights, led by Dihart. He had deliberately worn his family’s insignia on his uniform, causing people to stop and clear the way in surprise.

‘He’s made up his mind.’

Sebellia gripped the window frame with trembling hands. She could see the knights blocking the entrance to the inn. What to do? She bit the tender flesh inside her mouth, trying to regain her composure.

‘A frontal assault is impossible.’

She could feel Dihart’s determination to subdue her with force, not words. Once captured, protesting that she wasn’t Sebellia would be futile.

“How can he think I’m alive when he even attended my funeral…?”

She truly couldn’t understand. Had that arrogant man gone insane? A normal person would assume she was a look-alike, not the same person.

As Sebellia grew increasingly anxious, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

“…That’s it.”

If what he wants is ‘me alive,’ then I’ll give him that.

With a calm face, Sebellia turned around and went back the way she had come.