I Woke Up from Hibernation and Found a Husband - Chapter 103

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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 103
What sort of reaction should one display when a madman approaches with a smile, utterly indifferent to his surroundings, in the midst of a funeral hall? Ordinarily, the wisest course would be to flee immediately—but the man in question was the Crown Prince.
‘Sigh.’
Claire, unwilling to be arrested for lèse-majesté against the Imperial Family, carefully composed her expression and offered a proper bow alongside Theodore.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, we are honored to receive you.”
“It has been quite some time since the Hunting Festival Ball. I trust you have both been well.”
“Yes, Your Highness. It is a pleasure to pay our respects after so long.”
The exchange of pleasantries concluded. Claire observed Aaron as he inquired of Theodore about Ludwig’s well-being, her gaze lingering only briefly.
Marquis Temper was Aaron’s maternal grandfather. Yet Aaron displayed not a trace of sorrow, conversing with the ease of ordinary courtesy.
His demeanor had strayed far from the dignified, humane bearing of a proper Crown Prince that he had maintained until recently.
‘Something is decidedly different.’
Even Claire, who had dismissed the rumors of Aaron’s madness as mere gossip, found herself taken aback—his countenance had transformed entirely since the Hunting Festival.
His eyes held a peculiar, dreamlike madness. His gaze would fix upon those before him one moment, only to unfocus the next, as though seeing something that existed nowhere in this place.
Yet what was truly unsettling was the familiarity of this dreadful aura.
‘This chilling sensation—like witnessing a nightmare made manifest while awake. Why does it not feel foreign?’
Claire’s eyes squeezed shut as the memory crystallized.
Gregory. The energy that man had radiated when he ran rampant within Voltier Castle bore an aura nearly identical to what now emanated from Aaron.
‘Is this Gregory’s doing?’
Claire stared intently at the man teetering on the brink of being consumed by his own madness.
‘The Crown Prince Aaron has received the abilities of the dead.’
A hypothesis had grown increasingly plausible since learning that Marquis Temper and Bianca were collaborators with Umbra.
‘The Empress’s alliance with Umbra likely stems from a desire to compensate for Aaron’s lack of Imperial bloodline abilities.’
The contamination was so densely layered and concentrated that it was palpable even through casual contact.
‘How many abilities have they stolen? Is Elliott’s disappearance an attempt to seize his power as well? And is such a thing even possible?’
Questions swelled within her, yet now was not the time to pursue them.
“And Miss Claire.”
Aaron’s gaze shifted toward Claire. There was an expectation in his eyes—he wanted something from her.
‘What could it be?’
After a moment’s hesitation, Claire opened her mouth with careful deliberation.
“I am relieved to see you in good health, Your Highness.”
The safest response from her learned etiquette—yet it was not what he sought. Aaron’s expression grew listless. His eyes rolled thoughtfully for a moment before he spoke abruptly.
“While you were away from the Convent, I encountered Rosina Lloyd.”
“Rosina?”
“Indeed. Though she was quite different from you.”
Claire’s eyes merely blinked in silence. It was difficult to discern his intent.
‘Why did he meet with Rosina? Because of the contamination? And why tell me this?’
Aaron’s olive-colored eyes, gazing down upon Claire, darkened considerably. A question followed, posed as though testing prey.
“She seemed to fear me. I worry I may have caused offense—would you be so kind as to soothe her concerns? I noticed at the ball that you two seemed quite close.”
How many could remain unafraid of something ceasing to be human?
Particularly for Rosina, who possessed the ability of purification and thus could intuitively sense contamination, it would have been all the more so.
And while it sounded affectionate on the surface, no one in their right mind would speak such words in a place like this.
“Yes, I’ll try to have a conversation with him.”
Just as Claire was attempting to politely conclude the discussion while gauging the attention of those around them—
“What of you?”
“Pardon?”
Aaron stared at Claire with an intensity that was almost piercing. His gaze carried something oddly desperate.
“Do you also see me as changed?”
Rather than evade those eyes, Claire met them directly, and in that moment, she sensed what he truly sought.
It was a confirmation of existence—a yearning from one losing their identity and self-conviction to be recognized through the gaze of someone they perceived as most objective and honest.
‘But that’s not something I can define for him.’
Having reached her conclusion with resolve, Claire opened her mouth.
“Your Majesty, that seems to be a question you already know the answer to.”
Pitiful.
That was Claire’s assessment of Aaron. She couldn’t fathom why an ability would demand such destruction of a person.
Of course, she wasn’t defending someone who had consumed countless lives. It was merely pure sympathy for one crumbling apart.
That emotion, woven into her expression, cast cold water upon the madness consuming Aaron’s sense of self.
‘This isn’t His Majesty’s ability.’
A man with eyes the same amber-brown as hers suddenly came to mind—something he had once said. Aaron remained motionless until Claire and Theodore exchanged farewells and departed the building.
* * *
The front of Temper Mansion was a sea of humanity, with arriving carriages and departing guests intermingling. Claire, waiting for House Voltier’s coachman among the throng, had just positioned herself beside a pillar with Theodore to escape the crowd.
“Abe, heading straight home? The night is still young, you know?”
“Hey. Don’t call me Abe outside.”
Through the murmur of the crowd, a name struck Claire’s ears like lightning.
‘Abe.’
A name similar to ‘Dave’—the alias she’d used when searching for Angela on the Laten Plain.
‘That red hair and noble face! You must be Young Master Abe.’
Months ago, Claire had accidentally gained entry to the Market through a Market member who mistook her for Abe.
‘Thanks to that, I was able to save Anthony in time.’
If this Abe they were speaking of was the same one from then, she might be able to use him again to reach the Market.
‘Where is he?’
Claire’s acute hearing swiftly pinpointed the voice’s owner within the crowd—a gaunt man with dull, mottled red hair.
‘That’s definitely Abe.’
Seeing his exhausted, sharp features, she felt certain.
“Theodore.”
“Hm?”
With her gaze fixed on them, Claire wrapped her hand around Theodore’s nape and pulled him close in one swift motion.
“W-wait, Claire.”
Theodore’s face flushed as their faces drew near, as if they were about to kiss.
But Claire, her attention consumed by monitoring Abe, didn’t notice. She leaned past his lips to whisper against his ear what she had discovered.
“What? Really?”
Only then did Theodore’s gaze follow her.
“I’m quite certain. That man carries a scent similar to the one I detected at Market.”
Claire’s words now brimmed with conviction.
* * *
“S-so, Abe isn’t my real name—it’s an alias I use at the Club.”
“The Club?”
“Y-yes, it’s like a secret social gathering made up of a select few….”
In the Deserted Location, the man called Abe knelt on the ground, surrounded by Claire, Theodore, and Kenneth—all disguised by Ebon’s ability.
“Explain in detail. Tell me everything you did at that Club.”
Crash.
As Claire stomped her foot beside Abe’s leg, the Stone Floor caved in like mud. Abe, gasping for breath and trembling with terror, had no choice but to spill everything, tears and snot streaming down his face.
“She seems quite practiced at this.”
The three men swallowed hard as they watched Claire’s back, extracting information from Abe with such effective intimidation.
They didn’t need to participate in the interrogation. Claire was not the type to show mercy to those she deemed enemies.
“Hmm, so such a filthy organization existed.”
It was common enough. Young nobles from wealthy houses turned to gambling, black market dealings, and drugs in secret social gatherings to alleviate their boredom.
They had even assigned themselves aliases for their activities, but such carelessness in leaving a trail rendered their secrecy meaningless.
“How do you communicate with Market? Are there still active branches remaining?”
At that question, Abe’s eyes trembled violently. As he hesitated, his lips quivering, Claire pressed down firmly on the crown of his head.
“Market’s agents may not be here, but the hand above your head is right here. Remember that.”
In the darkness, Claire’s eyes gleamed with a chilling light.
Knowing what Anthony and the Beastmen at Market had endured, her murderous intent poured forth unfiltered onto Abe.
“Hiiiii….”
Experiencing terror for the first time, Abe finally lost control of his bladder.
“I’ll t-tell you everything. Please, please spare me!”

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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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