After I Died, My Husband Went Mad [EN]: Chapter 42

I Died and My Husband Went Mad (42)

It wasn’t just Wartz who was suffering from the increased workload.

“…If I close my eyes like this, I feel like I could just die.”

Far away from Supredi, in the magnificent and grand Inverness mansion, Hillend Hall, Ryan, who had become its temporary agent, was on the verge of collapsing from stomach cramps.

“No, I just wish I could die like this.”

The latest news was that they had found another accomplice instead of the missing Denisa and were heading to Supredi. With reliable information and the promise that the end was in sight, Ryan had been drinking fifteen cups of tea a day, handling the work and enduring Marquis Lims’s abuse.

But is this the result of all that effort? Ryan truly wanted to leave this world as it was.

A thick letter fell from his trembling hand. The content from Ilay was as follows:

[To my respected brother Ryan. I am writing this letter because there is something you absolutely need to know.]

The letter, which began with flattering rhetoric, was simple, clear, and utterly terrible.

Dehart’s disappearance.

“And they don’t know when, how, or where he disappeared to…!”

The news from Ilay was so absurd that it was infuriating. Ryan tried to soothe his churning stomach with cold tea. But it was no use.

He felt like he could only relieve this feeling by rushing to that insignificant city, grabbing Ilay by the collar, and beating him to a pulp.

“Ugh……”

Ryan groaned in pain as if his intestines were being torn apart. Every day, Marquis Lims was badgering him to take Gren and Rasch out of the tower. What had kept him going was the thought that ‘there wasn’t much time left.’

‘I’m really going crazy.’

Ryan clutched his head and groaned. In any case, Dehart had disappeared, and the matter was irreversible. As it stood, he had to help Ilay find Dehart while thoroughly concealing his disappearance.

‘Otherwise….’

Ryan glanced out the window and frowned. Marquis Lims, acting as if Hillend Hall was his own, was meddling here and there again today.

Seeing him preparing to get into a carriage, it seemed he was going to that salon again. Ryan had heard that Marquis Lims had been attending salons [social gatherings, often held in private homes] held near Hillend Hall recently, building a new support base.

‘It’s dangerous if it becomes a long-term battle.’

Not only nobles from the North but also those from the Central region frequented the place. If things continued this way, Marquis Lims’s influence could become much greater than it was now.

And he would use that influence to free Rasch and Gren.

“I have to divert his attention somehow. If not….”

Ryan clutched his splitting head and picked up the report on Marquis Lims.

Seize the weakness and launch a preemptive strike before being attacked. It was a rather violent strategy against a family elder, but there was no other choice. After all, the saying ‘like master, like servant’ wasn’t without reason.

* * *

If Dehart had known his decision, he would have felt inwardly proud, even if he didn’t show it. But Dehart didn’t have clairvoyance, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to use it in the current situation.

“Cough…!”

Bitter liquid surged up his esophagus along with a retching sound. Headache, seizures, and now vomiting. There were too many symptoms. The prescription he had taken to calm himself had the opposite effect.

“Damn it.”

Claude could no longer pretend to be calm. He couldn’t even make light conversation to hide his fear in front of his nephew who hated him.

He bit his lip in frustration. Having had to watch his family die tragically before his eyes due to a wrong decision, he couldn’t bear to see Dehart groaning in pain.

“Go downstairs and rest.”

“Wartz.”

It was Wartz who forcibly grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.

“No. It’s my job.”

He already felt guilty that Wartz wasn’t getting enough sleep and was always in the lab because of the increased workload, so he couldn’t ask him to take care of him as well. Claude grabbed Wartz’s hand, lowered it, and picked up a sedative.

It was the weakest drug.

‘This is the only way for now.’

Dehart also didn’t seem to know why he was in this condition. Once, he told Wartz that he had never suffered from anything other than insomnia and migraines. If that was true… Wartz had to find out the cause.

Until then, this weak sedative was all he had.

“Hold him still so I can inject it.”

“I’ll be faster. You hold him.”

Wartz said, snatching the syringe from his hand. Claude paused for a moment but followed his instructions.

“Dehart, just bear with it for a moment.”

The moment he touched his body, Claude felt his heart sink. Even in the midst of groaning in pain, the clear and distinct hostility flew towards him and pierced him. An unhidden animosity and murderous intent.

Claude realized once again. The reality that he truly hated and loathed him. And that he would never trust him.

“Claude, get a grip!”

He shook his head at Wartz’s sharp rebuke. Yes, it was only natural that he hated him. He was a sinner who had driven his family to their deaths. The arrogant and foolish Claude Inverness deserved to be treated like this by his nephew.

‘This is all my fault.’

Claude recalled the still vivid past. It was the day before he left the Central region with his older brother Gilland’s family. He received a letter from an old friend and his adjutant.

It was news that he had finally caught the traitor he had been tracking for months.

[Finally!]

Claude immediately ran to Gilland and explained the situation. It wasn’t far from the road to the North, so he argued that it would be good to stop by and catch him on the way.

[Claude, calm down. And leave that to the adjutant. We don’t need to get involved directly.]

But Gilland looked troubled. Claude couldn’t understand. He was the one who had dared to threaten Dehart’s life. How could he, as a father, not personally punish the one who had threatened his child’s life? Was he out of his mind?

Claude, who was burning with a sense of justice and valor, vehemently protested.

[If you insist, brother, I’ll go alone. I’ll go and cut off his head and give it to Dehart. Then we’ll see who he trusts more.]

[Claude!]

It was his sister-in-law who stopped him as he rushed out. The kind and lovely sister-in-law, Iris, who was so beautiful that she shouldn’t have met such a tragic end.

[We’re far away, and it’s okay if only you and Claude go nearby.]

Even then, he didn’t know what Gilland was afraid of. He was so caught up in his ambition that he couldn’t see it.

[Don’t worry, sister-in-law. I’ll make sure to avenge Dehart.]

And so, when they were attacked on that rough mountain road. And when he was entrusted with the children by his dying brother. When he saw the threatening letters that came with the keepsakes in his arms.

[What, what is this…….]

Only then did Claude become an adult too late. Leaving the young children he had to protect behind him, he headed to the cliff with all the assassins, belatedly shedding tears.

‘So don’t be unfair, Claude.’

He gritted his teeth and pressed down on Dehart’s limbs. Enduring the murderous gaze of his nephew, who was struggling and glaring at him, he suppressed him to save him.

‘I won’t tell you anything.’

I won’t try to ease my own resentment, or complain that I was also hurt and sad. I won’t tell you the truth, or try to explain the situation…….

“Kuh…!”

I will never hurt you again, who is looking at me with eyes still scarred and crying out.

Claude suppressed Dehart, who was twisting in pain, and swallowed his rising breath. If only he could, if possible, he wanted to transfer all his pain to himself.

‘Gilland, brother. Please. Don’t let this child suffer anymore.’

Claude prayed earnestly, getting up with a tired face.

‘And please let me find Rosalyn.’

The thought that Rosalyn might be crying out somewhere he didn’t know, just like Dehart, made him feel like he was going crazy.

* * *

Sebellia encountered Claude in the early morning.

“Miss Bella.”

Sebellia couldn’t sleep and was coming in from a short walk. She almost took a step back when she saw Claude coming down the stairs.

She felt like she had seen a walking corpse.

“…Are you okay?”

She felt like she was always asking the same question whenever she met the people in this house. At Sebellia’s words, Claude smiled mechanically. But soon, he didn’t even have the energy to do that and returned to a blank expression.

“Go in and sleep quickly. Sleep is important for patients.”

Claude went to the kitchen with faltering steps. Sebellia followed him, worried that he might fall.

“…Would you like a cup?”

Claude asked cautiously, making a thick cocoa. Sebellia hesitated before nodding.

The two sat facing each other, sharing the silence. There was nothing special to say, and Claude was very tired. Sebellia understood his situation and didn’t try to talk to him. But that promised silence was broken the very next moment.

The moment she met his golden eyes, which shone brightly in the moonlight coming through the window. He suddenly asked, with a desperate look on his face.

“Do you really not know anything about Dehart’s condition?”

Claude looked embarrassed after speaking. It seemed to have come out unconsciously.

“No, I’m sorry. I misspoke. Wartz is looking into it, so he’ll find out soon. He said he had migraines, so it’s probably related to that. I’m not in my right mind right now…….”

But Sebellia could now be certain.

‘He knew Dehart from the beginning.’

Yes, otherwise, he wouldn’t be so devoted to treating him, or ask me so desperately like this. Sebellia blinked slowly and pondered Claude’s words.

“If it was a migraine… wouldn’t he have medicine with him?”

“I searched everywhere, but there was nothing like that.”

Sebellia tilted her head, looking at Claude, who was drooping his shoulders dejectedly.

“That’s strange. Come to think of it, didn’t he have a coat?”

Dehart was the type to value perfect attire when going out. There’s no way he would have come here wearing only a shirt. Claude’s eyes widened at Sebellia’s words.