My Husband Lives in a Painting - Chapter 69

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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 069
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“A Macaron?”
Romaine’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes. I want one right now. Could you fetch one for me?”
“Of course. Though—wait just a moment. I’ll bring another maid to attend you while I’m away!”
“No, there’s no need for that. I’ll manage fine on my own, so don’t worry and just go.”
I grasped Romaine’s hand firmly as she turned to leave, pressing home the request.
“It has to be from La Maison de Bussy, without fail.”
I don’t actually care much for desserts.
Yet I sent her on this errand precisely to get her out of the way.
‘La Maison de Bussy is in the Central Market. A round trip will take at least three hours.’
With that, the nuisance was perfectly removed.
Now, the time for vengeance had come.
“…….”
“…….”
I’d once wondered about this moment.
Standing before the man who killed Camille, what expression would I wear?
Would I smile? Or would I scream and weep and rage?
Today, the answer had become clear: neither was quite right.
“That you, madam, could wield Magic……I hadn’t the faintest idea.”
Densum, seated on the sofa across from me, finally managed to speak, his voice strained.
Yet watching his haggard face stirred no particular feeling in me.
‘He’s become a shadow of himself in just two weeks.’
So Camille had seduced him thoroughly—that was all the sentiment I could muster.
“Lord, you’re trying to gauge how much I know, aren’t you?”
“No, I was merely—”
“Why don’t we test your theory? Clear the air, so to speak.”
“……What, what do you mean?”
Meeting my gaze, he faltered and looked away, unable to continue.
“I scarcely know where to begin…….”
“You seem lost, so I’ll help. Your mercenaries didn’t betray you. I killed them.”
“Wh—what did you say?”
Watching his face drain of color, I pressed further.
“Why did you try to kill me? What were you hiding?”
“I, I, I was, that is…….”
His hand trembled noticeably as he adjusted his glasses in an automatic gesture.
For the first time, the man who’d always held his head high with arrogance was showing his feelings so nakedly.
Yet no adequate excuse could possibly occur to him now.
Finally, squeezing his eyes shut, he suddenly cried out like a wounded animal.
“It was a mistake! All of it—I never meant for any of this!”
The words spilled out in a panicked rush, pitiful beyond measure.
Like a cornered beast, he cobbled together excuse after flimsy excuse.
“Yes! It’s all Fritta Dinapoli’s fault! That woman said something strange, and because of her, I……!”
“Something strange? What—did she say Camille had come back to life?”
“Yes! ……or rather, how did you possibly know that?”
Everything fell into place exactly as I’d suspected.
Densum’s sudden attempt on my life was certainly born of his need to conceal his crime.
From the converging clues and timing, my whereabouts while traveling with Basaria must have been exposed to someone.
‘And that informant was Fritta.’
It was as I recalled her face and my expression hardened to ice.
“Madam, I beg you!”
Densum suddenly threw himself forward, prostrating himself at my feet.
Thud! With that ungainly sound, he desperately clutched at my legs.
“I’ve committed an unforgivable sin! Tell me—what must I do to earn your forgiveness? Please, speak!”
“An apology, I suppose.”
“Please! Meden is waiting for me! She carries my child in her womb!”
“……Your child?”
For a moment, I barely suppressed a laugh that threatened to burst forth.
Ah, so Camille had played that trick on him as well.
‘Cruel and pleasant. Truly befitting her.’
That was when it happened.
“I must meet her, my child! I have to!!”
“Haha!”
Confronted with those eyes so utterly consumed by delusion, laughter finally burst from me.
How pathetic it was.
Is this what the face of a man enslaved by fantasy looks like?
Truly, the sort of face a Demon loves to toy with.
“.….”
Then, suddenly, a revulsion beyond words swept over me.
Sickened by the sight of him posturing as though he were the victim.
“I’m afraid that won’t do.”
“…What?”
“You took my husband’s life, and you thought you could dream of a new one for yourself alone?”
Densum’s pupils convulsed as if the earth itself were trembling beneath him.
I twisted one corner of my mouth upward.
“Not a chance.”
At the same moment, I batted away his hand that had been clutching at my skirt.
“Playing the part of belated love—it’s not even amusing. Meden—you were the one who drove that child to ruin.”
“W-what are you talking about—!”
“Meden asked me to tell you. She despises you with every fiber of her being.”
While Camille took on Meden’s role, I heard every detail of her tragedy unfold.
Even the cause of her death.
“Meden died because of you. Because of you and your father.”
“N-no! That’s not true!”
In that instant, murderous intent bloomed across Densum’s face.
“What do you know, spouting off like that!”
Having finally lost all reason, he seized me by the collar with bloodshot eyes.
“Meden’s death was unavoidable! I—how much have I suffered because of it—!”
“How much? You’ve never even laid a single flower at her grave, and you dare speak of what you’ve endured?”
“You filthy maggot!!”
Densum’s face twisted hideously.
Then came a dull, heavy blow across my face.
Crack!
“Ugh!”
My head snapped to the side. Pain bloomed along my nerves in its wake.
When was the last time I’d taken a blow like that?
Swallowing the coppery taste bleeding between my teeth, I fixed my gaze directly on Densum’s eyes once more.
“Bring Meden back! Bring her back now!”
“.….”
Densum thrust the Pendant Necklace before my face with brutal force.
The pure white paper inside it seemed to mirror the hollow emptiness within me.
Watching his face twisted in pathetic anguish, I finally spoke the words I’d been turning over in my mind.
“…You bring him back.”
“What?”
“Camille, bring my husband back to life.”
The air in the room froze in an instant of silence.
Densum’s lips, which had been heaving with ragged breath, sealed shut.
In contrast, heat began rising within me now.
“Why did you kill him? He was your closest friend. So why—why did you have to kill him on the very day he was born?”
“.….”
Nothing makes sense.
Why him? Why that day?
The only person alive who held the answer was the man standing before me.
“I…I….”
The strength drained slowly from the hand gripping my collar.
Perhaps the sudden dissolution of his bestial fury stemmed from some strange kinship.
Densum collapsed onto the sofa, all will abandoned.
“…That incident was, in a manner of speaking, an accident.”
I kept my spine rigidly straight as I looked down at him.
“I swear to you, I never intended to kill Camille from the start.”
“…….”
“Believe me on that much, at least.”
At last, the truth of that day was about to come to light.
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“Densum. You said you had something urgent to discuss. Is something the matter? You’re not unwell, are you?”
Impeccable dress.
Flawless etiquette.
And a tone of kindness toward everyone.
In truth, Densum held Camille in rather high regard.
The Ortega and Karangko household—among the most prominent ducal families in the Empire.
Belonging to such a lineage was proof of immense power, and it meant that bloodline was worth many times over the lives of ordinary people.
“Nothing, really.”
Densum, leaning against the Terrace railing, let out a sigh.
“The Banquet Hall was just so stifling. I stepped out for a moment, and took the opportunity to call you as well.”
“Stifling, you say?”
Camille tilted her head in confusion.
At that, Densum’s brow narrowed as if he’d grown tired of her innocent act.
“……Camille. How much longer do you intend to keep up the pretense? I’ve told you before—you don’t need to be guarded around me.”
As Camille fell silent, Densum continued with easy composure.
“Out of consideration for our Academy days, I’ve been letting it slide, but you and I were born into a different world than Gail or Pagoda. We are dukes; they are not.”
“…….”
“So let’s just pass the time here and then head back inside. You must have been troubled having a woman of no standing brought into the house—at least today you can find some relief. Don’t you agree?”
“A woman of no standing, you say.”
But Densum did not know.
How differently his kindness would be read by Camille.
“Surely you’re not speaking of my wife?”
Nor did he know that this moment would become the spark for all that was to follow.

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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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