My Ex-Husband Came Back Crazy - Chapter 34

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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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Episode 34
Chapter 4. Omens (1)
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, warming the air with gentle radiance.
A peaceful scene he had not beheld in some time—yet that tranquility was interrupted by what must have been the hundredth quarrel between them.
“Just a little more.”
Lucius pressed the matter as Celia clamped her mouth shut.
She turned her head away from the spoon hovering just before her lips.
Though such a gesture would normally have been meaningless. After tasting frequent failure these past days, Lucius had taken to holding her from behind and refusing to release her until the meal was finished.
“Hmm? Celia.”
“I’m not eating breakfast.”
Ever since what happened in Dunrow Hollow, Lucius had made a habit of visiting her room with persistent regularity.
This relentless insistence on meals was merely one facet of it.
“Don’t be like that. You need to eat before you take your medicine.”
“…I don’t need it. The wounds have healed.”
“Even so, just to be safe.”
He drew her closer still, lowering his chin to rest near her cheek.
She felt his breath graze the hair before her ear. The unfamiliar sensation left her stiff and unmoving.
“Just one bite.”
The tip of the spoon pressed lightly against her lips.
“Then I’ll let you off the hook for this morning.”
It was the first time since childhood—since her nursemaid—that anyone had shown such obsessive concern for her meals.
Eyes flashing with irritation, Celia found herself outmatched by his stubborn persistence and finally yielded, parting her lips. They opened carefully, hesitant, before she accepted the food.
Like all invalid’s fare, it tasted absolutely terrible.
But taste was not the real problem.
‘He fed me—so why hasn’t he let go?’
A sidelong glance. She looked up at him while chewing.
As their eyes met, Lucius’s dry throat caught. His large hand moved slowly, his forearm wrapping below her waist.
“Shall we have one more bite?”
“…You just said one bite before.”
As Celia squinted up at him in frustration, Lucius smoothly redirected her attention.
“Your one bite is just too small. I can’t help it.”
Lucius coaxed her with practiced ease.
He had only just discovered the paradox in their dynamic. She was weak to tenderness. She softened easily beneath a gentle gaze, grew vulnerable before encircling hands.
Particularly of late, he had come to sense—almost instinctively—that the bounds of what she would accept from him had widened.
And he had no intention of letting slip this opening she had afforded him.
“Then I’ll eat it myself. Hand it over.”
“You said that yesterday and dumped the whole thing.”
“….”
Celia shifted her body with evident displeasure.
This time, she could see it in his resolute green eyes—he would not relent. She had no choice but to chew and swallow the food.
‘If only he hadn’t come to rescue me. Then I could just ignore all this nonsense.’
Yet despite such private thoughts, she finished the bowl cleanly.
“Hmm?”
Only after the meal ended did Lucius release her. He paused mid-cleaning and looked at her.
“What?”
“I forgot to mention—those men who took you that day? They’ve been dealt with properly.”
At his matter-of-fact words, Celia, who had been blinking slowly, shifted to the foot of the bed.
“Dealt with?”
“Yes, it’s all been resolved.”
The warmth from breakfast had already faded from the room, and her blue eyes suddenly gleamed.
“What does that mean.”
She let out a short, hollow laugh and tilted her head—a habit that emerged whenever she was about to press a point.
“You didn’t just scare them a little and call it a day, did you?”
Lucius set down the dish and turned to face her.
“I was kidnapped. Those bastards tried to lay hands on me, and all you have to say is that it’s been resolved?”
His gaze swept across her angry face, and he released a measured breath before closing the distance.
Only once he had drawn near enough to sink the mattress beneath his weight did he bend quietly. His palm cupped her cheek.
As if cooling fever-hot skin, his thumb traced her cheekbone, and he whispered:
“They’ll never appear before you again.”
And at his next words, Celia felt something shift.
Though he had spoken thus, she had been certain he would have chosen lenient punishment.
He was a man who placed reason before emotion, order before anger—surely he would have handed them over to law and due process.
But his words sounded almost like a confession: that for her sake, he had chosen a method he would never have chosen otherwise.
Not that a man like Lucius couldn’t be terrible in private vengeance—the question was merely how much.
Celia’s anger drained away, and she turned her head aside.
“…Fine, then. But set a date for when I can go out next.”
“Hmm?”
“I didn’t get to buy what I wanted before I was dragged away.”
He fell silent for a moment. Lucius ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek before venturing the question:
“You’ll be able to manage it?”
Celia’s expression turned puzzled at this.
“Manage what? What reason could there possibly be to keep me from going?”
“But…what happened…”
Lucius spoke with careful hesitation, as though even the mention pained him.
The hand that stole out to catch hers was merely an afterthought.
She wrinkled her nose in discomfort.
“There are bad people everywhere in this world. Just because I had an upsetting, unpleasant experience doesn’t mean I’m going to cower in a corner for the rest of my life.”
Something flickered in Lucius’s eyes.
Her words stood in direct opposition to his own lingering fear.
That night, he knew how beautiful she had been—gazing up at the endless sky unfurling beneath the cold air. He wanted to give her such vistas again and again.
But another feeling, one that collided with this, remained firmly rooted within him.
‘…I want to keep her here, at my side alone.’
If only she would stay safe within his arms, untouched by any threat.
He buried that dark desire beneath his tongue and drew in a long breath.
His hand moved from her cheek, pulling her into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her waist and tightened, allowing no escape.
“…?”
The emotion he had been pressing down since her wounds began to heal surged forth, threatening to breach at the smallest touch.
“-do it?”
Just as his breath began to descend near her cheek, her voice cut through his thoughts.
“…Hmm?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“Sorry. I was thinking about something else for a moment.”
He whispered his confession against her ear like an obedient lamb.
Celia’s eyes grew cool with displeasure. That small glance was more than enough to completely captivate him.
“The Hunting Tournament. Whether you’re going to participate in the summer event the Imperial Court is hosting.”
At those words, he was forced to suppress the murky desire that had been welling endlessly within him.
***
The study was dark, all its windows locked shut.
Edmund’s voice mingled with cigar smoke and the scent of leather as he exhaled without concern.
“So…Celia hasn’t sent any separate word?”
Evandor, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, swallowed dryly before answering.
“No, sir.”
He added belatedly:
“But everyone knows that my sister is resting due to poor health. I thought perhaps that was the reason—”
“Evan.”
A single softly spoken name froze him in place.
“…Yes, Father.”
“You know as well as I do that all of that is merely an excuse.”
Evandor’s shoulders, which had always been held straight, began to slump.
He who had once prided himself on his silver tongue found himself unable to produce even a crude excuse before Edmund. He could only close his mouth and swallow his many words.
“Tsk.”
The sound of his tongue clicking made Evandor’s eyelids grow heavy.
“I cannot fathom why Celia has always had such a talent for turning people inside out.”
“…Don’t you know how cowardly Lucius Windmere is? If it were something important, he would have hidden it away carefully for fear of it being taken. It’s only natural that my sister couldn’t find it easily, is it not?”
Evandor loosened his grip and ventured a careful defense.
But Edmund merely laughed and flicked ash from his cigar.
“Do you think I don’t know that boy?”
A candle flame trembled, spewing soot.
A weight like stale dust hung in the air, pressing even on Evandor’s voice.
“Celia strives for my attention as my one and only child, but I have little interest in her heart. She is self-absorbed, given to convenient rationalization, and chooses immediate stability over all else.”
It no longer mattered whether Celia was truly such a person or not.
Only Edmund’s judgment of her became truth.
“You know yourself how ruthless that child can be. If Celia truly desired something, she would have found a way to send me something—even if not the logistics documents.”
With no room for rebuttal, Evandor’s face hardened.
How unyielding she became when determined to accomplish something—that relentless trait had already been proven through her past resentment toward Lucius.
“Well then, it seems I’ll have to find another way.”
“….”
“Go and contact Diana.”
Evandor finally squeezed his eyes shut.
“Tell her I’m calling.”

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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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