The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - 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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Chapter 34
Davion sprinted forward and dropped to his knees, pressing his ear to Cecilia’s chest. She was alive. He released the breath he’d been holding, overwhelmed by a relief so vast it nearly undid him, and slowly gathered her limp form onto his lap, cradling her as gently as he would a waterlogged doll.
Cecilia’s eyes were closed. Davion’s hands trembled as he traced her face, caked with blood and dust, and he tried to rouse her gently—she seemed to have slipped into a deep sleep.
“Cecilia, my love, please—open your eyes. Look at me. Please look at me, will you?”
She flinched at his voice, and her eyelids—crusted with dried blood—fluttered open.
She blinked several times, clearing her vision bit by bit. Against the brilliant, cloudless blue sky, Davion’s face came into focus.
How strange. Why are you here?
Wait—is this what they call the Horse Lantern Dream?
Cecilia lifted her hand and touched Davion’s jaw. The rough texture of stubble brushed her palm.
Even in a dream, you can feel things like this. She found herself laughing at the wonder of it.
“Darling…?”
“Yes, I’m here. I’m here with you, my love.”
What puzzled her, though, was why even within this dream he wore such an anguished expression. Wanting to soothe him, she stroked his cheek and whimpered softly, like a child.
“My head hurts, I think…”
“I know. Once you see the doctor and take your medicine, you’ll feel better soon. Does it hurt badly? Can you bear it?”
“Not badly, just a little…”
There was so much she wanted to tell him. That she was sorry. That she’d wanted to escape from him. That she’d missed him terribly. That she’d even spent countless nights wondering if, before death claimed her, she might steal one last glimpse of him from afar.
But now that she stood—lay—before him, all those carefully rehearsed words scattered like ash. Instead, only one question escaped on her faint breath.
“Are you angry with me…?”
Davion shook his head, covering her hand with his own. He smiled, but to her eyes it looked like he was crying.
Liam was running toward them from the far shoulder of the road, where he’d hastily parked the car. Davion held Cecilia close, her exhausted eyes finally closed, and his voice came out raw, almost broken.
“Let’s go home, darling.”
1-8. The End and the Beginning
Cecilia’s eyes flew open.
Birds chattered noisily on the nearby branch outside her window. Beneath the familiar—no, tiresome—bedroom ceiling, white dust motes drifted through shafts of sunlight.
A morning of perfect peace. And yet, as Cecilia stared blankly at the patterns of light on the ceiling, her brow began to furrow.
‘What time did I fall asleep last night?’
But it wasn’t just last night. Days—entire days—had been cleanly excised from her memory.
It felt like she’d been caught in a very long dream. Trying to piece together the murky recollections, she forced her leaden body upright.
The bedroom looked as it always did, yet somehow cleaner. When she touched the spot where she’d been lying, her fingers found something soft as silk—a large pillow dressed in a pale pink floral pillowcase, the kind she’d loved since childhood.
The negligee she wore was also one she’d treasured for years. But something had felt off about it—underneath, she wore nothing at all.
That’s strange. Her husband never left his work half-done like this.
Cecilia touched her left ear, trying to piece it together. And then it hit her.
‘Did I… did I travel back to the past?!’
She’d read so many romance novels—and now the same thing had happened to her!
Shock drained the color from Cecilia’s face, and she grabbed her head in panic. In that same instant, the door swung open and Davion entered.
“You’re awake?”
He held food in one hand, his black hair disheveled, wearing comfortable clothes—the exact image of him she saw every day. Yet as he approached, her eyes narrowed with concern.
…Why has he grown so thin?
“You woke up and fell back asleep about five times. You’ll find it hard to stay conscious for long just yet. I was so worried, but at least you weren’t badly hurt—thank goodness for that.”
Davion swept her tousled hair back and kissed her forehead.
“The inspectors are still investigating Shenfield Square Hall. We should take the opportunity to clear out the vagrants lurking around there too.”
He sat at the edge of the bed and prodded at the steaming oatmeal on the silver tray, blowing on it gently. Throughout this, Cecilia sat in stunned silence, her eyes blinking.
The oatmeal was mostly water, with barely any substance. Misreading her silence, Davion gave an embarrassed laugh and explained.
“You have a mild concussion, so you can’t eat too much at once. Oh, and I stitched up the gash on your scalp. There’ll be a scar, but your hair will cover it—no one will see it.”
“Darling, what are you talking about…?”
Cecilia shook her head with a shiver.
“What are you saying?”
Only then did Davion set down the spoon. Deep lines suddenly etched themselves across his previously smooth brow.
“You’re the one who should explain. Don’t you remember what happened?”
“What?”
Cecilia couldn’t understand why Davion was looking at her so seriously, scanning her from head to toe. He set the tray on the nearby table and returned to her side, his hand cupping the back of her head as he muttered with worry.
“The doctor said the chances of memory loss were low, but…”
Where his fingertips touched, a sharp pain began to bloom outward.
Cecilia winced and hunched her shoulders. In that instant, the image of Davion’s face—desperate and searching beneath the blue sky—flashed through her mind, and memories came flooding back like a broken dam.
On the nightstand, an empty brown glass bottle caught the morning light, glittering. It was proof that everything she’d done to escape—it wasn’t a dream.
I have to leave.
As that thought brushed the edge of her consciousness, her body moved on its own, pushing Davion away.
“Get away from me!”
Cecilia’s face turned a sickly blue as she clutched at her chest, gasping for breath.
“Why—why am I here?”
“Cecilia.”
“No! Let me out right now! I’m leaving! I—I—!”
She grabbed her head, words spilling from her lips in a frantic torrent she couldn’t even parse herself. When she tried to throw off the blanket and stumble away, her legs gave out beneath her and she tumbled hard onto the floor beside the bed.
That was when she saw it—something glinting at the edge of her vision—and her breath caught, her entire body going rigid.
“What—what is this?”
A shackle of some kind was fastened around her left ankle.
“Why is this on me? Why?”
Trembling, Cecilia reached for the chain scattered across the floor, and Davion rushed forward, gripping her shoulders urgently. “Please, just calm down.”
“Tell me. What is this?”
She shook him off, her voice rising to a shout.
Understanding bloomed across her face, and in that instant, hot blood flooded upward into her neck and cheeks. Cecilia, who had been gasping against the cold floor, lunged at him and seized him by the collar.
“You chained me up like livestock?!”
“It doesn’t hurt, does it? The chain is long enough to move freely around this room.”
Davion replied with a gentle smile, and Cecilia found herself utterly speechless—not from lack of words, but from a fury so complete it had tipped into absurdity.
Had this man lost his mind? Had he hit his head while she was gone?
As Cecilia fought through the throbbing in her skull, breathing hard, Davion lifted her into his arms and settled her back onto the bed.
“Eat something and take your medicine. You still need complete rest.”
She glared at his unbothered composure, and then the tears came—thick, heavy drops streaming down her face. In the wake of her fury came something far worse: a crushing wave of regret.
Why had she left this place with such painful resolve? All of it—every bit of effort—felt like it had turned to dust.
Unaware of what churned beneath her silence, Davion murmured reassurances and pressed kiss after kiss to her cheeks. Cecilia sobbed openly, pushing him away, striking at him.
“Don’t—please let me go……”
But Davion shook his head, and patiently wiped away her tears. She shoved against his solid chest with rough, desperate force.
“You’ve lost your mind! Chaining me like an animal—unlock it now! Let me out!”
“Why?”
His voice cracked slightly. At last, Davion spoke the one word he’d been holding back.

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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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