I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 3

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 3
“Could you lend me some money?”
“So you’ve come not to repay your debt, but to borrow more?”
A few days later, Udith walked into the usury office and nodded calmly at the proprietor.
Smith fell silent for a moment, his greedy pupils flickering as he regarded his subordinate.
“The Countess has finally lost her mind. She comes not to repay, but to borrow?”
“Surely you’ve misspoken? I wouldn’t presume to ask for more money without even paying the interest—I still have some shame, you know.”
Udith wasn’t thrilled about this either.
“I’m thinking of starting a business, but I don’t have anywhere suitable to borrow from.”
She had no money for business capital, nor even for living expenses. She’d tried borrowing from several other sources, but the moment they heard she owed a debt to the usurer Smith, they’d all backed away. The man must be notoriously vicious. So she’d had no choice but to come to him again.
“I already owe two hundred thousand Gold, and you think adding a little more will make much difference?”
“…That hardly sounds like words from someone asking for a loan, does it? Hmm? Did you leave your conscience at home, madam?”
“But I’m doing this to repay you. If you sold me off, couldn’t you get two hundred thousand Gold?”
Though she wore no cosmetics and her hair was unkempt, Udith was still a handsome woman by any measure. Being of noble birth would fetch a higher price, though even so, it fell far short of two hundred thousand Gold.
“Then you’d be taking a loss. But if you lend me the business capital, I’ll repay it with interest. That’s not a loss for you, is it?”
As if to say, why should the madam decide what constitutes your loss?
Smith was flabbergasted. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but admire the Countess’s sheer audacity. No one in this city—least of all anyone in her debt—would dare ask for more money as brazenly as Udith did.
Or was it shamelessness? After his initial amazement, Smith found himself confused.
“I cannot lend without collateral.”
“Then how about the mansion?”
“Don’t try that trick.”
Tch, no luck there. Udith made no effort to hide her disappointment. So it is shamelessness, Smith thought to himself, shaking his head slightly.
“Then I’ll put up my peerage.”
“Your peerage? That’s not valid collateral.”
“It can’t be collateral, but it can be inherited. If you have a child, I could adopt them into the Rainhardt Family, or else—”
Udith fixed Smith with an unwavering gaze.
“I could adopt you instead.”
“……”
An elderly son in the money-lending business, perhaps?
Udith smiled with the gentle warmth of a mother regarding her son. Smith now looked at her as one might regard someone with flowers stuck in their hair.
“Two hundred thousand Gold in exchange for a countess’s title—isn’t that a deal worth taking?”
Smith tapped his thick fingers on the table. His deliberation was mercifully brief. Whether Udith was in her right mind or not, this was profitable business for him.
“Bring the money.”
Smith’s subordinate laid out a pen, ink, and two documents before Udith. One was a pledge to transfer her title in any way necessary should she fail to repay the debt, and the other—
“A Body Forfeiture Pledge?”
“A pledge that should you fail to repay and cannot transfer your title, you’ll forfeit your person.”
Thoroughly thorough, she had to admit. Udith pursed her lips and picked up the pen. There was no turning back now.
“Aren’t you curious what business I intend to start?”
Days earlier, as Udith sat quietly in the mansion racking her brains for a way to earn money, a revelation had struck her.
This world had only white candles. And in her past life, Udith had made and sold scented candles as a side business! Which meant she was the only person who knew how to make colored, fragrant candles. In a world without electricity and full of social gatherings, what could be a better business opportunity? This was bound to succeed.
“As long as the madam pays the interest on time, whether she steals or begs to do so is none of my concern.”
Smith scanned the documents bearing Udith’s signature. Finding nothing amiss, he nodded, and his subordinate placed a money pouch before her.
“Interest is due at the end of each month. Don’t be late, madam.”
* * *
With the business capital in hand, Udith threw herself into candle-making. Lacking silicone molds, she opted for glass jars instead—a compromise that worked beautifully. She sourced dyes from textile merchants. In her past life, candles required KC certification before sale, so she’d been restricted in her dye choices. Here, however, there were no such constraints.
“Skill is everything, as always.”
A crimson candle rippled in Udith’s hands. Once cooled, it would fade to a lovely pale pink.
Within days, the candles sold as if they had wings. She’d sent sample candles to a handful of her remaining noble acquaintances, and word spread quickly. At this rate, next month’s interest would be no problem.
Fearing the candles wouldn’t sell if word got out they were made in the cursed Rainhardt Mansion, Udith continued using the Herrington surname. The discreet nature of her marriage to Ern had made this possible.
Thud, thud.
As Udith shaped candles with eager hands, she paused at the creaking sound of the gate.
“Who could that be? I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
Was it Smith? The interest wasn’t due yet. Or could it be Cliff, the lawyer? Udith rose from her seat.
But it was neither. At the gate stood a neatly dressed man holding an enormous flower bouquet. Upon spotting Udith, he gestured with exaggerated politeness.
“Good day to you, Countess Rainhardt.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Henry Spencer. I once served in the Knight Order with Knight Ern.”
At that name, Udith’s brow furrowed.
* * *
Henry Spencer. A man employed by the Capital Security Division, he was one of Ern’s few close friends.
One day he received a report of an abandoned corpse in the woods and set out to investigate. There, Henry discovered a body—the corpse of Ern Rainhardt, a man he’d believed was alive and well.
They’d first met on the battlefield years ago during the war. Ern was every bit as cold as the rumors claimed. Brutal to his enemies, icy to his comrades. Reckless, crude, arrogant—a man Henry had wanted to punch more than once. Still, for all his poor character, Henry owed Ern his life several times over.
‘Always looked like he was walking a knife’s edge. I suppose it had to end like this.’
Watching Ern fight was always unsettling. It had nothing to do with his martial prowess. Ern fought as though he’d already surrendered his life, as though he was desperate to throw it away. He was a man perpetually balanced on the blade’s edge—so unstable in his very being that hearing bad news about him was never truly a shock.
After the war ended, they’d sometimes meet for a drink, but since Henry’s posting to the Capital Security Division, they’d rarely crossed paths. Still, he’d assumed Ern was managing well enough.
‘But what in the world is this?’
The corpse was naked, stripped of its clothes, and left to rot in the depths of the forest. After recovering the body, Henry went to file the death report so he could lay Ern to rest in the Public Cemetery within the Capital. That was where he saw Ern’s death certificate.
And beneath it, the signature of a woman claiming to be Ern’s wife: Udith Rainhardt.
‘Ern married? That Ern Rainhardt married someone?’
The Ern that Henry knew showed no interest in women. There were moments Henry suspected he might prefer men instead. But a marriage registration and a death certificate filed a day apart? The woman had to be connected to Ern’s death—Henry was certain of it.
From the day Henry learned of Ern’s marriage and death, he began lingering around Udith.
The woman had more than a few suspicious habits.
“Her routine looks ordinary, but there’s something off about it.”
Each morning, she’d leave carrying a large basket, visiting other noble estates or shopping at the Market, then return by noon and remain confined to the mansion for the rest of the day. Late into the night, the lights in her room never went out.
“What in the world is she doing?”
He couldn’t begin to guess. There was nothing for it but to break into the mansion and investigate directly. Suddenly, a comment he’d heard from a fortune teller days ago flashed through his mind.
“You’ll have a year when debts you’d forgotten about come back to haunt you.”
Was this what she meant?
Henry’s plan was simple: he’d approach Udith, lower her guard with flirtation and charm, and the moment they were alone together, he’d slip a Truth-Speaking Drug into her tea or wine. Once he had her testimony, he’d drag her straight to the Security Division.
“Never thought I’d actually use a seduction scheme.”
He might pale beside Ern, but Henry himself was a handsome man. With testimony in hand, the arrest would be immediate.
This was the very reason he’d knocked on the mansion’s door.
“I’ve come to pay my respects.”
Henry’s carefully hidden true intentions masked behind a disarming smile.
* * *
“My condolences on your grief.”
Henry Spencer. Udith summoned the memories from the original story and placed him at once—Ern’s colleague, a knight who in the early chapters had come on far too strong to the female protagonist and nearly faced the consequences for it.
“Having barely begun your marriage, to move straight to a funeral… your heart must be breaking.”
As Henry spoke these words, he flashed Udith a wink.
Hold on. Your words and expression are completely at odds, aren’t they? You look relieved that Ern is dead. Am I misreading this, or…?
Startled by Henry’s wink, Udith received the bouquet he offered with an awkward hand. It wasn’t unheard of for mourners to bring white flowers, but—
‘He brought lilies?’
Not even chrysanthemums. As if any white flower would do. And why give them to me instead of leaving them at Ern’s grave? The man looks perfectly capable, but is he perhaps lacking something upstairs? In any case, since he’d come to pay his respects, Udith opened the gate and stepped forward. As Countess of the Rainhardt Family, she couldn’t simply turn a mourner away at the door.
Fortunately, in the original story, Henry was a womanizer but not a bad man.
“I should have come sooner—I only heard the news late. In that grand mansion, you must have been terribly lonely.”
“Not particularly…”
“From now on, you can rely on me.”
But why would I rely on you? Udith found her words catching as she looked at Henry’s face, bright with his pristine teeth flashing in an easy smile. What was he playing at?
“You needn’t feel burdened.”
Henry seemed to have misread Udith’s expression as hesitation born of discomfort. He dipped his waist slightly and leaned close to her ear, speaking in hushed tones.
“A husband’s friend is as good as a husband, is he not? Feel free to think of me that way.”
Excuse me, Sir Henry, but does that make sense? If you think of a husband’s friend the same way as a husband, that’s infidelity. It seemed that even characters who appeared only in passing were subject to the same moral decay that plagued this nineteen-rated novel.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————