The Husband I Thought Was Dead Has Returned - Chapter 43

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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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The Husband Who Should Have Died Returns Episode 043
I answered cautiously.
“I’m not entirely certain about that.”
Cherez narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth.
“The Temple has deep roots in the Southern Region. Even the locals rarely venture there. This time, let me hear your account. What did you discover?”
The gazes of Cherez, myself, and even Borgus turned toward the Knight who had accompanied us today.
“We discovered documents belonging to an organization called the Harmony Society. Ten members in total—all of them immigrant nobility. There were no natives of the Southern Region. The ledger contained no record of how the membership fees were used. Their activities were merely superficial.”
“The Harmony Society.”
Cherez murmured.
I had never heard of it either. It wasn’t mentioned in the original work.
How fortunate that we found something after coming all this way. I hoped that what I accomplished today would one day prove helpful to Hayden. Cherez and I had less than four months remaining. I wished to accomplish as much as possible in that time.
So that Cherez would have no regrets, and so that Hayden’s life might be even slightly less burdensome.
Cherez, unaware of anything, spoke.
“The Harmony Society could be collecting funds, and that money might be flowing through the Temple.”
“We will investigate the Temple.”
Borgus answered thus to Cherez’s command, then cleared his throat and turned his gaze toward me. It seemed he had something to say. He spoke to me with an awkward expression.
“I am truly grateful to you, Duchess.”
Then, after hesitating, he added.
“I apologize for my conduct before.”
“Please, think nothing of it. As the saying goes, even a stone bridge should be tapped before crossing. I understand.”
Borgus gazed at me with a moved expression.
It seemed we were now truly in the same boat. Compared to when I first arrived here, this was remarkable progress.

* * *
At that same moment. In the Annex Building.
Petunia had already departed.
Her luggage, her clothes, Dorote—all gone. She had left with her right arm severed, so to speak.
But Petunia had left something behind.
“Uhhhhh, uaaaaaahhh!”
It was Linnen.
Linnen sat crumpled before the Supply Storage, weeping. Her cries were strange—she seemed to be trying to speak, but no words came. Even when she opened her mouth, only saliva dribbled out. The Maids gathered around her, whispering among themselves. Yureain rushed over after hearing their reports.
“Linnen! Linnen, look at me!”
Yureain grasped Linnen’s cheeks and pried her mouth open. The girl’s plump tongue had turned a sickly purple. Swollen and immobile, it was clear she had been poisoned.
Yureain’s heart plummeted.
It had been I who chose the innocent Linnen to extract information from. Had I not selected her, she would never have suffered this. Her freckled cheeks were drenched with tears.
‘I’ve been discovered!’
This was a warning meant for Bereidan. Yureain’s shoulders trembled as she cried out.
“Fetch the Physician! Quickly!”
Linnen clutched at Yureain’s skirts and burst into sobs. Unable to speak, she could only breathe in ragged gasps. Her face, streaked with tears and saliva, shook with terror. She must be terrified. It must feel as though she had lost half the world.
Yureain spoke in the gentlest, most composed voice she could muster.
“It’s all right, Linnen. You’re all right. Just breathe slowly. We can certainly heal this. There now, slowly. That’s it.”
Yureain stroked Linnen’s back. The girl clung to her skirts, trembling violently from head to toe.
Yureain sank to the floor and pulled Linnen into her arms. Linnen was only seventeen. Far too young to endure such cruelty. What made it worse was that Linnen still had no idea what had truly happened to her.
After all, it was I who had deceived her.
“Everything will be all right. The Physician will be here soon. He’ll certainly be able to heal you.”
Cradled in Yureain’s embrace, Linnen curled up like a small child.
As the Duchess of Hejest departed, she had left her mark upon Bereidan—sharp and vicious. And that wound cut deepest into Yureain’s heart.

* * *
It was the final checkpoint before completely leaving the Southern Region.
Petunia’s carriage came to a halt. Dorote peered out the window. After assessing the situation, she turned to Petunia.
“It appears to be an inspection, my lady.”
Petunia did not respond. In truth, she had not spoken a single word since their departure. Morigan had not returned, and now only the two of them were leaving. And now, of all things, the carriage was being stopped.
Petunia ground her teeth.
It was humiliating. She had never known such a sense of defeat before.
The carriage door opened.
A Knight bearing the crest of House Bereidan stood before them. The sight of that emblem grated on Petunia so intensely that her eyes narrowed to slits.
“Are you the Duchess of Hejest?”
“Can you not see?”
“It is standard procedure. Please wait a moment.”
The Knight withdrew. As Petunia clenched her jaw, Dorote spoke carefully.
“It will be over shortly.”
Petunia’s fingernails dug into the fabric of her skirt. She could not fathom that a mere checkpoint Knight was keeping her waiting.
Just as Petunia was about to order the carriage to depart, the Knight returned. He carried a wooden box.
“His Grace instructed me to deliver this to you.”
Petunia looked down at the box. Inside lay a pair of old socks, worn from long use. At the sight of them, Petunia’s body went rigid. The ankles were stretched, the heels worn thin. And on the inner ankle, there was embroidery.
[P.]
Petunia’s breath caught.
The stitching was uneven. Someone unaccustomed to needlework had embroidered each stitch with painstaking care. The thread was a deep navy blue—her favorite color.
These were Morigan’s socks.
She had embroidered them herself.
It was the day before Petunia’s marriage, twenty-eight years ago. There had been a time when love was everything to her. But Petunia had a family she could not deny. And so she became a sacrifice to a marriage she had never wanted. Yet unable to let Morigan go, she had given him these socks.
‘This is my heart. Do not abandon me, Morigan. Stay by my side.’
Morigan had gladly honored her wish. And these worn socks were his answer.
Petunia’s face went pale.
That cursed barbarian had discovered the bond between her and Morigan.
Petunia’s teeth ground together. The Knight standing at the door spoke.
“He said that if you remain obedient, perhaps you may meet again someday.”
Petunia lifted her head and stared at the Knight. Her lips trembled. Those words meant Morigan was alive. Petunia’s mouth opened and closed, but she said nothing. The author could offer no answer to any question.
Petunia clutched the socks tightly.
Dorote watched Petunia carefully. She had never seen such an expression on her lady’s face before.
“…Your Grace.”
“…Depart at once. Now. I wish to leave this cursed Southern Land behind!”
Dorote pushed the Knight aside and shut the door. She urged the Coachman to set the carriage in motion, and only then did Petunia release the breath she had been holding.
Petunia closed the box lid. The trembling would not cease. She placed the box on her lap and clenched both fists.
She was returning with an arm lost and her heart stolen away. That journey was bitterly, achingly cold.

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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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