I Accidentally Resurrected My Dead Husband - Chapter 42

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 42
Ern felt the prick of conscience every time he glimpsed the hollow shadows beneath Udith’s eyes. More than half of that exhaustion, he suspected, belonged to him.
While he’d languished in bed, wracked with worry over Mira, Udith had kept vigil at his bedside without proper rest, all while continuing her work. Her strength had no chance of recovering.
“If it’s the interest that concerns you, I’ll see if I can arrange funds from Moseley.”
“But that’s still borrowing money, isn’t it, Ern?”
“When did I say I’d borrow? I’m collecting the payment owed to me for all the information I’ve delivered to the marquis.”
“…Ern, you’re a knight, not a thug. You haven’t forgotten that, have you? I’m worried you’ve lost sight of your purpose ever since the Gambling House.”
“Don’t bring up the Gambling House.”
The shameful memory of that day—fleeing the Gambling House in disarray, only to collide with Henry on patrol—made Ern’s lips tremble. As he reached down to seize his sword, Henry hurried to divert the subject with a series of desperate coughs.
“In any case, that’s a Temporary Measure, is what I’m saying. How long do you intend to extract funds from the marquis?”
“As long as necessary.”
Ern answered with brazen confidence, but Udith found herself agreeing with Henry.
A Temporary Measure. Yes, that was all it was. Taking information payments from Moseley, working while sacrificing sleep—none of it solved the real problem. What other option was there? As Udith mulled this over, a persistent inconvenience from the past several days suddenly surfaced in her mind.
“I’m so sorry to have brought you all this way just to purchase one item, Miss Herrington. Wouldn’t it be better if you simply gave me your address? I’ll send our son to you.”
“I’d prefer it if you’d let the errand boy handle the purchase. Waiting for Miss Herrington to visit our home is far too much trouble. You won’t give me your address? Why ever not?”
Customers who bought scented candles in small quantities—one or two at a time due to their high price—found Udith’s sales method inconvenient. They complained that it was tedious to spend an entire day waiting for her just to buy a single candle.
Of course, if they came directly to purchase, it would save her the time spent on deliveries. But Rainhardt Manor still bore the stain of its reputation.
‘…But do the scented candles really have to be sold from the manor? I could make them there, but sell them elsewhere, couldn’t I?’
Opening a shop? The realization struck Udith like a blow to the back of her head. How had she not thought of it before? A shop would require rent, yes, but it would cut down on delivery time considerably. With the time she saved, she could make more candles and still have profit left after paying the rent.
Besides, she could advertise to passersby. The only concern was that other shops might purchase candles elsewhere and copy her work. But scented candles were far more difficult to produce than simple colored ones. Even Udith, who already knew the method, had needed days of research—the process was intricate enough that competitors wouldn’t easily steal the formula.
Admittedly, imitators would eventually emerge, but before that happened, it was crucial to establish that Udith was the original maker of scented candles. Opening a shop was the best way to achieve that. She would naturally become known as the first scented candle merchant.
“I need to open a shop.”
“Just like that?”
Ern, who had been sprawled listlessly, pushed himself upright at Udith’s sudden declaration. She explained her plan to the bewildered Ern and Henry.
“It’s not a bad idea.”
Ern nodded seriously.
“I’ve already decided on a name.”
“That was quick, madam. What will you call it?”
“Udith Herrington’s Beautiful and Fragrant Candle Shop.”
Ern wagged a finger back and forth.
“Too long and provincial.”
“Then Udith Herrington’s Fragrant Moment.”
“You can’t tell what’s being sold from the name alone.”
Henry objected in a tone that suggested he found it wholly unsuitable.
“What about Fragrance Oasis?”
Henry shook his head, and Ern clicked his tongue.
“The Garden of Fragrance?”
“Sounds like a flower shop.”
“A Candle Shop with Fragrance and Color.”
“I wouldn’t want to enter it.”
After countless proposals and rejections, they settled on “Herrington’s Special Candle Shop”—the most straightforward and commonly used sort of name among them.
* * *
Once the name was decided, everything proceeded swiftly. Udith found a clean shop slightly removed from the center of the Plaza, with the drawback that rent had to be paid in full for a year upfront. But the yearly rate was considerably lower than market price, which made it reasonable terms.
On the day she signed the contract and paid the final sum, Udith cleaned the shop with unbridled enthusiasm.
‘I have my own shop!’
She’d long harbored a vague desire to open a respectable storefront someday, but she’d never imagined it would happen so quickly. Sweat beaded on her brow as she scrubbed every corner, yet she felt no fatigue—only joy. Even the cleaning delighted her. On her knees wiping the floor, Udith’s mind swelled with dreams of expanding the shop, and later opening a second and third location.
But the work did not proceed smoothly.
The next day, when Udith and Ern entered the shop to decorate the interior, they clapped their hands over their mouths at the stench that greeted them.
“Ugh.”
“What in blazes—I can’t stay in here.”
The shop reeked of decomposed fish, a putrid, fishy odor that filled the entire space. Udith and Ern gagged and stumbled outside.
“That’s strange. There was no smell like that yesterday.”
“Could it be coming from the new furniture?”
Since the smell had been absent yesterday, on the day of the contract, and on the first day they’d viewed the shop, Ern and Udith concluded that the furniture they’d purchased and brought in the day before was to blame.
They dragged the pieces outside, cleaned them thoroughly, and boiled the tablecloths in scalding water. But the next day, and the day after that,
“Ugh, I’m actually getting used to this smell now. Which makes it even more infuriating!”
“I can’t seem to adapt to it at all. I don’t even understand it. Where on earth is this stench coming from?”
The odor refused to disappear.
No matter how meticulously they cleaned or how much fragrant oil they poured into the shop, by the next day it reeked of that putrid, fishy smell once more.
By this point, Udith could not help but realize the truth.
“I’ve been swindled.”
* * *
Udith went straight to find the building’s owner.
“There’s a terrible stench coming from the shop. It’s made the place completely unbearable for business.”
“Perhaps you haven’t been cleaning thoroughly enough.”
“I’ve done a deep clean five times over. The problem is with the building itself.”
The stench was not something that could be solved by mere scrubbing and rearranging furniture.
“Either fix the smell, or cancel the contract.”
“Now listen here, miss—my building is perfectly fine. Perfectly fine, which is why you signed the contract in the first place, isn’t it? So how is it that you suddenly appear now, claiming there’s something wrong with my building, demanding I cancel your contract?”
The owner shook his head flatly. When she’d signed the lease, she’d thought him a kindly-looking gentleman with a respectable bearing. But kindly was far from the word now—seeing him again, she found his expression decidedly unpleasant.
“If you really want to cancel, I can do that, but since this is your change of heart, I’ll only return half of what you’ve paid. Understood?”
“What did you say?”
Udith and the building owner bickered for more than an hour. He insisted that since there had been no problems when she signed the lease, he was under no obligation to return her money in full.
Udith was ready to tear her hair out, but unfortunately his argument held considerable weight. Returning to Rainhardt Manor with nothing to show for her efforts, she let out a heavy sigh, her face drawn.
“He knew about the smell all along. I’m certain of it.”
“Yes, he didn’t even flinch when you brought it up.”
A shop from which the stench would not dissipate. An owner who’d pocketed an entire year’s rent upfront. A suspiciously low price that had lured her in.
The moment she’d grasped this chain of events, Udith had intuited the swindle. But she’d thought—just in case, on the chance the owner truly didn’t know about the smell—she’d meet with him to confirm. Yet the outcome was as she’d suspected.
“It’s a scheme. Since no one can sell anything in a place that reeks like that, everyone probably just took back half their rent and left.”
The sum Udith had paid as a year’s worth of rent was a staggering two hundred fifty thousand Gold. It was an amount she’d need to sell over a thousand Scented Candles to earn—and that was counting only the raw revenue, without factoring in the cost of materials or labor. And now he meant to pocket half of it? The man had the heart of a thief.
“Why didn’t the smell show up when I signed the contract, but then appeared as soon as I tried to start business?”
She’d asked the shop owners on either side whether they smelled it regularly, and they said they hadn’t. It was enough to drive anyone mad.
“What could the owner be up to?”
Udith gripped her throbbing head. Her stomach felt just as unsettled. She couldn’t tell if this discomfort in her pit was an illness from inhaling the stench daily, or if it was stress-induced.
“Your stomach bothering you again?”
Ern gently patted Udith’s lower back as he watched her massage the area around her stomach.
From breathing in the foul odor every day, Ern himself had been suffering from headaches and indigestion. If even someone trained in physical discipline was affected like this, what about Udith? He felt no flesh at all beneath his palm where it rested on her back.
“Ern, go teach him a lesson.”
“The building owner? Go and give him a thorough thrashing? And get your money back while I’m at it?”
“……?”
Udith’s hand, which had been massaging her stomach without pause, went completely still.
“Who are you? You’re not Ern Rainhardt, are you?”
Udith looked up at him with wide, suspicious eyes. The Ern she knew would have answered something like, “What makes you think I go around roughing people up?” That would have been fitting.
“You’re stirring up a commotion over a little support, aren’t you.”
“Based on that reaction, you really are Ern.”
Udith tilted her head, murmuring to herself.
“I’m thinking of visiting the pharmacist Henry introduced me to. Come with me, Ern. My mind feels foggy from this smell.”

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