My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 30

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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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My Husband Lives in a Painting — Episode 30
Camille hadn’t pressed me for explanations. Perhaps that was his way of showing consideration.
“Why? Is there some particular reason?”
But the man before me was behaving entirely differently.
“……Aren’t you asking rather deeply? My husband wouldn’t have done that.”
I expressed indirectly how uncomfortable it felt to say such things while wearing Camille’s face.
Yet the answer that spilled from his lips came as a surprise.
“But if you care about someone, it’s natural to be curious about them, isn’t it?”
“That’s…….”
Unwilling to think further, my mouth opened of its own accord.
“……I have a Trauma.”
“A Trauma?”
“My father used to hit me.”
The story, begun abruptly, carried a darkness that jarred against the peaceful scenery around us.
Had it not been for the black tea steaming gently, the chill in the air might have locked my jaw shut without my noticing.
“My father used violence under the guise of discipline. He’d get drunk and use me as an outlet, throwing whatever he could grab until nothing in the house remained intact. Sometimes he’d lock me in a dark closet.”
“…….”
“Once I was old enough, he made me earn money. If I didn’t bring home the exact amount he demanded, my hands and feet paid the price. I barely went to school.”
“…….”
“So I fled. To this place.”
‘Though in truth, I failed in my escape and was reborn after death.’
It had been twenty years, and I thought I’d forgotten everything, but the fact that I could recite it so vividly now proved that was a delusion. Physical scars fade, but the ones carved into the soul don’t disappear.
“Still, this much is a great improvement.”
To be honest, Omage Claude was an angel compared to that man.
At least he fed me, gave me shelter, and never raised a hand without reason.
“I actually had many worse habits. I thought I’d break them all by the time I reached adulthood, but…… one remains.”
Whenever strong hands pressed down on me or pinned me so I couldn’t escape, my body would stiffen first.
It was surely the instinctive terror one feels when facing death.
‘How absurd.’
I’d always thought I didn’t mind dying, yet when death’s shadow actually loomed before me, fear took hold.
“…….”
After I finished speaking, I studied Camille’s expression as he listened intently across from me.
Since my account had been mixed with words that defied understanding by the standards of this world, I assumed he wouldn’t grasp it fully.
Yet an unexpected response came back to me.
“That must have been terribly hard.”
“…….”
“And yet, you endured.”
His deep blue eyes didn’t avoid my gaze. I stared at those eyes, which resembled the sea, in silence for a moment.
As a surge of emotion threatened to burn my eyes with tears, Camille smiled playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“By the way, Ob. Now that I think about it, we should extend the contract.”
“……Pardon?”
“That man. He’d be perfect as a target for revenge.”
A cold gleam flashed across Camille’s eyes.
“Should I drown him in the depths of the sea, or burn him alive? No, better yet—I’ll try every cruel punishment I know of. Yes, I’ll learn something while I’m at it. What do you prefer?”
He spoke without knowing that the ‘father’ I’d mentioned wasn’t a person of this world.
Yet his words were enough to wash away the wounds accumulated within me.
“That’s enough. What, do you think I’m some serial killer?”
“I’m the serial killer here, not you.”
“We’re in the same boat, so what difference does it make?”
“Is that so?”
Whether he accepted my argument or not, Camille’s piercing gaze softened.
“Well, we are husband and wife, after all.”
“……Husband and wife.”
We faced each other and exchanged quiet laughter.
“Yes, we are.”
It was truly ironic—finding happiness while speaking of death.
A moment later, Camille suddenly rose from his seat and spoke to me with the resolve of someone who’d made a decision.
“Anyway, now that I’ve heard the answer to my question, from now on I’ll help you overcome your Trauma. As it happens, I discovered something perfectly suited for it today.”
“What is it?”
I watched silently as he hummed cheerfully and made his way toward the dresser.
Soon the topmost drawer slid open, and something emerged from between his fingers.
‘That’s…….’
None other than the Red Ribbon. The very ribbon I had searched for so desperately days ago.
“Fear, you see, can only be overcome by repeatedly encountering small triggers at manageable distances.”
“…….”
“So why not spend time with me while keeping a proper distance, using this ribbon? It might help you overcome your Trauma.”
My heart began to pound violently.
The Red Ribbon. That was a secret shared only between me and Camille. There’s no way this man could know about the walks we took together while wearing it.
……And yet.
‘If this man repeats the same actions as my husband, can I truly say he isn’t the same person?’
Then Camille’s hand traveled past my wrist to my pale nape.
Just as I swallowed hard against the mounting tension, an unexpected word fell from his lips.
“Here, I’ll tie this around my neck, so you hold on to it.”
Wait. What did he just say?
“……Not my hand?”
“Hmm?”
Silence descended between us in an instant.
Soon after, Camille tilted his head with a bewildered expression.
“Ribbons are meant to be tied around the neck.”
My racing heart came to an abrupt halt.
A cold sensation crawled through my veins, leaving me lightheaded.
“……What was I even thinking—”
It was right then, as I pressed my temple and shook my head, that it happened.
“And like this, woof!”
“……!”
I jerked my head up, startled by the sound coming from inches away.
“That’s how it goes.”
“Y-you……!”
Did you just bark like a dog?
I barely swallowed the rest of the question. I couldn’t possibly ask such a thing aloud!
Yet unlike me, paralyzed by shock, Camille showed no sign of stopping this outrageous display.
“A man who acts like a dog—isn’t that every woman’s secret fantasy?”
“What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that?”
“Woof!”
“Camille!”
“Arf.”
I pressed my hand against his lips to silence him.
At that moment, the fear of touching him paled in comparison to my urgency to prevent that face from making any more dog sounds.
With his mouth sealed beneath my palm, Camille’s eyes crinkled with what looked like victory, his smile radiant.
“Ugh……!”
Heat flooded my face, and I shoved him away, twisting my body sharply to the opposite side.
“Really…… being with you makes me feel like I’m committing a sin.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s shameless!”
I glared at the demon with the Red Ribbon tied around his neck and his lip caught between his teeth, but Camille simply offered a smile as beautiful as an angel’s.
“Sounds like praise to me.”
Chapter 5: Even If Bitten by a Snake in Its Lair, Keep Your Wits About You
“Are you really going?”
Omage Claude, who had sought me out in my room at the crack of dawn, leaned against the doorframe and posed the question.
‘……How did he know I’d been invited by the Marquis?’
Well, as acting head of the household, he’d have every reason to keep track of my movements. I decided not to dwell on it.
Meanwhile, as I made final adjustments to my attire with Romaine’s assistance, Omage Claude’s gaze swept over me with obvious disapproval written all over his face.
So, almost without thinking, an excuse tumbled out.
“Marquis Bouterre was a close friend of my husband’s. It would be impolite not to accept his invitation.”
The truth—that I’m going to investigate him before I kill him—
——was something I couldn’t possibly say.

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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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