My Ex-Husband Came Back Crazy - Chapter 86

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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 86
Chapter 9. Remnants (6)
Celia Brickwell.
Rowald had known of her before he ever learned Lucius’s true identity.
It was only natural. Who among those who dwelt in the empire, drawing breath within its borders, could claim ignorance of the House of Brickwell’s eldest daughter—a woman who wielded power second only to the throne itself?
The reason he knew more of her than most was simply that he had kept his fingers in every corner of high society.
Celia, the Duke of Brickwell’s firstborn, had at thirteen astonished the scholars at the Academy of Scholars with her questions on Classical Mathematics; at fifteen, she had contributed her insights to the Eastern Region’s water-management reforms, which had vexed the administrators; by seventeen, her name circulated through every quarter as she reviewed tax restructuring proposals for the Brickwell territories.
And that was hardly all. At eighteen, she had graced a state banquet attended by foreign dignitaries, wielding multiple languages with such natural ease that she won praise from ambassadors across the realm.
Beautiful, sharp-minded, and capable—those were the words.
Any description of Celia Brickwell invariably settled into those three qualities.
One flaw, if it could be called that: she was childhood rivals with Lucius Windmere, the heir to House Windmere, a power to match Brickwell’s own.
‘But seeing how well they married and have lived together, I thought the rumors must have been exaggerated.’
When Rowald first encountered her after the Dunlow Hollow affair, he found himself swallowing hard at the sight of the woman before him.
“My lady…?”
“…….”
In truth, judging by how Lucius treated his wife and his conduct generally, the old gossip of their constant clashes seemed little more than embellishment.
And Celia appeared much the same.
Though she seemed somewhat cool, that delicate frame hardly suggested a woman prone to vicious disputes and mudslinging—not someone who fit the tales he’d heard.
So he had sized her up carelessly.
“Hand it over.”
That night, when she was kidnapped to Dunlow Hollow, his quick assessment of her had come in those few brief words: a delicate-looking beauty, quiet and elegant.
He had taken her for a rabbit.
“I don’t care to repeat myself. You’d do well to give me whatever that is before my patience wears thinner.”
It had been his error entirely—to conjure images of prey in the presence of a predator.
***
Celia discovered Rowald during her solitary afternoon stroll.
The late autumn sun hung weakly in the sky. Pale light scattered through the bare branches. Draped in her fur shawl drawn up to her chin, Celia had been admiring the scene when she stopped abruptly.
‘What is that?’
That face looked familiar somehow.
She hid herself behind a tree and narrowed her eyes, studying the figure.
As she searched her memory, her eyes widened slowly.
‘That’s the man from the day I was taken to Dunlow Hollow.’
Gentry—one of Lucius’s acquaintances.
Had Lucius invited him?
His identity was already exposed. But she hadn’t expected them to invite him to their own estate, secret or not.
‘Hmm.’
Celia, who normally paid no mind to strangers, tilted her head with sudden interest.
She ordinarily despised guest protocol, but this time things were different.
‘What’s he carrying? He doesn’t seem to be here just for a visit.’
Especially not when Lucius wasn’t even home.
Her instincts prickled—like fur standing on end, insisting she pay attention.
So she approached Rowald.
“What are you looking at?”
Startled by her sudden address, Rowald stepped back. The bundle of documents he held trembled in his grip.
Celia’s gaze naturally drifted across the papers.
‘Chloe… Larendel?’
Only for an instant, but she caught the name jutting out from between the sheets.
“Your Highness… I bid you welcome.”
Her curiosity shifted into something else entirely.
The irritation that began to bloom as she watched him display such flawless courtesy was unmistakable.
“Those documents—may I see them?”
Rowald quickly tucked the exposed pages back inside.
“Ah, it’s nothing of consequence, Your Highness. Hardly worth the beautiful lady’s attention.”
“You wouldn’t be carrying them just for show. Were those for Lucius?”
The hand gripping her shawl suddenly thrust forward.
“Hand them over.”
That Chloe Larendel.
‘First she was Lucius’s lover, then she was supposed to remarry him, and now she’s my brother’s fiancée. It’s infuriating.’
The more she thought of it, the more absurd it seemed.
The moment she recalled that mad woman—the one who flipped at anything involving Lucius—irritation clawed its way up her throat.
‘Of course, it might be nothing.’
Likely just a light document with her personal details she’d accidentally glimpsed in Lucius’s chambers before, or perhaps notes on her recent whereabouts.
‘I know it could be about Evandor’s broken engagement.’
But would anyone understand if she said that’s exactly why it annoyed her?
“H-ha ha. Your Highness, your interest is flattering, but this truly isn’t something worthy of your eyes.”
“When he’s away, I oversee this estate. You’ve crossed its threshold—you don’t have the luxury of refusing my command.”
Rowald’s smile hardened awkwardly.
“I’m not in the habit of pilfering through others’ papers like a thief, but that name on these pages isn’t something I can simply overlook.”
Finally, Rowald produced the documents.
They weren’t papers worth dying for. But they weren’t something to surrender thoughtlessly either.
‘Lucius will work with me, but whether he’ll overlook a mistake of this magnitude… I can’t be sure.’
Unwilling to betray Lucius’s trust and lacking the nerve to withstand the Consort’s pressure, he moved with quick fingers to conceal the most critical pages behind the others.
He held forward only the thinner sheets—her recent movements—while hiding away the contents regarding Chloe Larendel’s overseas purchases and her rather sordid personal tastes.
“…….”
Celia read swiftly through the papers, then handed them back without delay.
“That’s enough. Go on your way.”
Rowald exhaled a deep sigh of relief. But he could never have guessed what thoughts were turning behind her eyes.
***
It was evening when Lucius returned from his work.
Having been shut away in his study all day, unaware of how the sun had set, he went straight to Celia, who occupied a prime seat before the hearth.
“Are you very cold?”
He leaned down, draping his arm over the sofa’s back.
Celia’s eyes, which had been resting on her book, lifted slightly.
“No, I’m just here because it’s warm.”
Her face held a faint flush as she spoke—the hearth’s doing, naturally, or so she would claim.
Instead, he gathered the blanket that had slipped from her shoulders and arranged it properly. As the back of his hand brushed her hair, she glanced up at him with a sidelong look.
Her blue eyes traced across him, then drifted to the bare branches beyond the window.
“It feels like snow might fall soon.”
“Isn’t it too early yet?”
Lucius unfastened the collar at his throat and sat beside her, his reply light and easy.
“It isn’t—autumn is always short.”
“Still. I’d wager we have at least another week before it comes.”
“I know better.”
Lucius gazed down at her with satisfaction as she spoke with such certainty.
“Once the snow falls, the temperature drops sharply. It becomes unbearable.”
He covered his mouth and laughed softly.
“The only thing I can do for you is hold you like this whenever you’re cold.”
He opened his arms wide and drew her in. Her small frame stiffened for a moment, then gradually settled into a comfortable position against him. He felt her shift slightly within his embrace before his lips curled upward.
“And you, meanwhile, suffer in the summer heat.”
“Then you keep me cool.”
He whispered this, and Celia offered no reply.
But when she pressed her cheek softly against his chest, Lucius himself went still.
Such a simple gesture, yet his hard-won composure seemed to creak and groan under the strain.
Her hair brushed against his jaw. He closed his eyes, then opened them again.
“When will you be free of all this work?”
His heart was pounding so loudly she must hear it. Yet she lay there pretending ignorance, and it tore at him—this woman nestled in his arms, listening to his pulse, oblivious to how completely she undid him.
“Bear with me a little longer. I’m sorry for leaving you alone so much.”
He wanted to undo himself further still.
His eyes closed, Lucius drew her tighter against him.
“……It doesn’t bother me.”
Every time she conducted herself this way, he felt as though he were being tested before the divine.
And yet, in the same breath, he felt capable of anything.
“Don’t say that. Remember the Southern Estate you promised to visit? Let’s go there now. My work is progressing well, and things have been peaceful lately.”
After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly.
Lucius pressed his lips to her hair and let out a small laugh.
It was a moment of happiness.
The next day.
While Lucius was away, Celia summoned Anne and had her write a letter.
“To Chloe Larendel. Tell her I wish to meet with her.”

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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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