The World Mistakes Me for Terminally Ill - Chapter 87

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The World Thinks I’m Terminally Ill Episode 087

I desperately suppressed my boiling anger.

They say a quiet cat, no, wolf climbs onto the hearth first.

To think that my husband, whom I thought was different from typical noble young masters, would come play in such a suspicious place and flirt with a married woman.

‘Oh my, you’ve really done it now.’

For a moment I lost my reason and raised the corners of my mouth with the mindset of seeing just how far this would go.

“Is that so? There are few men who can satisfy me.”

“I will do my best to ensure the lady’s satisfaction.”

Our gazes collided through the masks.

Before I knew it, the speech pattern of ‘Ophelia’ that I had set up was gone and I was speaking as I normally would, but I had no time to think about character collapse.

As I received his escort, the central stage approached. At our combination that caught anyone’s eye, all the people’s gazes turned toward us.

“You.”

Along with the magnificent violin sound, the waltz began.

We danced while fiercely exploring each other.

Click, click, tap-

Clashing gazes, the distance growing closer with each step. The breathing and each other’s breath sounds becoming clearer accordingly.

As if knowing my rhythm, each time I moved, my partner naturally came to meet me and matched my pace.

As if familiar.

When I turned, I swatted away the hand that naturally supported my waist. I took the initiative from the man who skillfully led me as if we had practiced together many times.

Before I knew it, I slowly lifted the chin of the man looking down at me from what could be called an intimate distance.

Despite being caught, his lowered gaze was sensual.

“Do you know that I’m a widow who lost the one I loved?”

“…Of course.”

A distance where each other’s breath mixed. The clashing gazes were deep.

I whispered softly.

“You don’t seem to be single.”

I pressed near the collarbone and let my hand drop.

“Seeing you act like this, won’t your wife be angry?”

Meaning to come to your senses.

When I naturally moved away with my steps, my partner pulled me toward him like trying to catch a flying butterfly.

I glared at my partner who passionately grabbed my waist after I had given him a chance to escape.

Shubel lowered his head. The man with disgustingly curved eyes whispered.

“I have the most beautiful wife in the world.”

My hand that was about to grab and push his shoulder in annoyance hesitated.

At a distance where the veil swayed-

Our gazes collided as if our lips might brush.

“My wife would… surely be satisfied as well.”

“…”

“She likes insubordination, doesn’t she.”

He caressed as if he would remove the edge of my mask.

“My wife.”

The waltz ended.

Shubel naturally stepped back and bowed aristocratically.

I stood frozen in place like someone who had glimpsed an unexpected secret.

‘…He knew it was me?’

How?

While I was frozen in confusion, the man who had drawn all the ballroom’s attention smiled languidly.

He extended his hand.

“Shall we dance one more song? Beautiful lady.”

I immediately grabbed his hand and came down from the dance floor. Instead of pushing away, Shubel obediently let himself be dragged.

I had been confident. Confident that no one would notice I was behind the mask of ‘Ophelia.’

But I was seen through at once.

The bewilderment from that, the sense of crisis, and… even a strange relief I couldn’t name.

The area around my heart strangely tightened at the fact that Shubel had approached not some unknown woman, but me from the beginning.

As soon as I arrived at the lounge, I pushed him away and closed the door.

Bang.

And while I was organizing the confusion in my head for a moment, a familiar hand reached out from behind me.

“I have something I’m curious about.”

Click.

The door locked.

“Is this scent of my wife something the deceased liked, or is it for me?”

Before I knew it, Shubel held a funeral flower that had been attached to my dress.

“Elisia.”

A soft voice settled by my ear.

I immediately turned around and pushed Shubel. He leisurely stepped back for me.

“You.”

For a moment I felt relief along with a surge of heat.

If you knew, you should have said you knew from the beginning…!

“Do you enjoy teasing people?”

“It seemed like my wife wanted to hide it.”

He smiled innocently and removed his mask.

I was annoyed at myself for feeling relieved again upon seeing the familiar face.

‘Looking again, those clothes are the ones I had tailored recently.’

I mean the time when I told him to act like a passerby but he came wearing his uniform and startled people.

I had gone shopping as I had resolved to fill my husband’s wardrobe that only had achromatic colors.

The man before my eyes was wearing the dress uniform I had bought him then, not missing a single brooch.

As if it had been left hanging on a clothes hanger just like that.

According to my sky-high aesthetic sense, it suited Shubel very well.

“How did you come here?”

“An assassin left an invitation.”

That bastard Erban, and he didn’t tell me?

‘He probably thought it would be fun.’

I ground my teeth inwardly, thinking I wouldn’t let him get away with it, imagining Erban who would be getting bitten and scratched by an angry baby dragon right now after teasing Kai.

I was getting heated up alone, then thinking what was the point, I sighed and approached Shubel.

He quietly looked down at his contract wife who was feeling around his body here and there.

“Wife?”

“Stay still.”

Erban said he was fine, but with 0% reliability, how could I trust that.

Suspicious that he might be hiding injuries again, I examined him thoroughly.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m not injured anywhere.”

Shubel answered while obediently offering his body to me.

I was wondering whether I should tell him to unbutton his shirt—somehow it seemed like Shubel would really do it—when he slowly reached out his hand.

Click- Shubel removed my mask.

When I hesitated and looked up at him, I saw the silver-haired ‘Ophelia’ reflected in his eyes.

“Indeed… I understand why people are enchanted by the moon.”

“What?”

“So this is what silver is like.”

Golden sun, silver moon, rainbow aurora.

Since these were words Northern people used to refer to the sky, that probably meant my hair dyed with a magic tool.

“Of course, I prefer the sun most of all though.”

I clicked my tongue inwardly at my husband who had somehow become a poet.

“Not weird things like that. You’re really fine, right?”

“If you’re worried, would you like to check for yourself?”

Shubel smiled slightly and tilted his head.

“If it’s my wife, I can offer myself… as much as you want. Though I’d be happy if such intimate contact could be done in the bedroom, of course.”

His voice dropped subtly lower.

“It would be embarrassing to show others.”

I narrowed my eyes at the man who didn’t look embarrassed at all.

‘He’s teasing me again.’

Until now, whenever Shubel pulled these tricks, I’d panic and fluster around unlike myself.

Going through all these events, I guess I awakened. Or maybe I came to my senses.

I looked at him silently, then raised the corner of my mouth crookedly.

“Shubel.”

“Yes.”

I pushed him.

Thud.

Suddenly pushed, Shubel couldn’t even resist and was shoved back onto the table behind him.

As if he had completely relaxed his strength against me.

He blinked with a rarely surprised expression.

I looked down at Shubel diagonally and said.

“If you do this one more time.”

Glittering silver hair and black veil slid smoothly between us. The tense man’s Adam’s apple moved.

I pressed my reddish lower lip firmly and whispered.

“I really won’t let it slide.”

Then I snatched my mask back from Shubel, put it on, and turned around with a refreshed face, having regained my identity after a while, and left the room.

“…”

Shubel, who had been lying there dazed for a while, moved his lips slightly.

“Ah.”

A single word like a sigh.

He covered his face with his large hands.

For the first time, the man’s earlobes were tinged red.

“…This is troublesome.”

Shubel muttered quietly, feeling a suffocating sensation rising up like boiling water.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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