After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 172

What does family really mean? As Ryan served as Dehart’s aide, he often found himself wondering this.

‘Were the Rash family and Marquis Limms truly family to the Duke?’

Did he really love them?

Ryan glanced at the torches, slowly brightening the darkness, and silently hoped the answer was no. Because if it were true, it would mean that Dehart considered those who didn’t love him as family.

“Let’s get moving toward the location.”

Ryan sighed softly and nodded to the knights. Yesterday, he had heard that Marquis Limms was leading his troops toward Hillend Hall.

Then, an hour ago, he noticed that a patrolling knight hadn’t returned. Ryan immediately sensed it. Today was the day Marquis Limms would launch a surprise attack on Hillend Hall.

It had been a long-awaited day, but the bitterness filling his chest couldn’t be avoided. It was clear who Limms’ reckless actions were for.

‘It means that the Rash family is more important than the Duke.’

Instead of sighing, Ryan tightened his grip on the sword hilt. A knight silently approached and whispered in his ear. Ryan nodded and stared into the darkness ahead.

In the tense, restless night air, Marquis Limms and his knights lay hidden in the shadows beyond the light.

Crunch, the sound of someone stepping on the underbrush shattered the tense silence. Marquis Limms, waiting in the shadows, suddenly shouted.

“Recapture the tower!”

Recapture, a fitting expression for him. Ryan coldly smiled and raised the torch.

“Make sure the rats don’t get away with the criminals!”

“What…!”

The noisy night began. The torches illuminating Hillend Hall’s corners briefly revealed distorted faces before they vanished.

“Chase them down! Contact the guards of the tower!”

Ryan shouted loudly and casually followed Marquis Limms’ trail. His sword-arm swirled in a flashy arc, striking down Limms’ knights, but that was all.

‘Now, hurry and go take the Rash family and run.’

That was all he hoped for.

* * *

In contrast to the noisy night at Hillend Hall, the night at Surfredi was quiet and gloomy.

‘Another day goes by without anything happening.’

Dehart still hadn’t come to see her. Even setting aside that Watts had arrived earlier than expected, it couldn’t justify him avoiding her and not even showing his face.

“Sigh…”

Her mind was tangled, making it hard to sleep. Was he really trying to avoid her like this?

Was it wrong to expect a proper apology from him?

‘Is this all you are?’

The night deepened, and sleep wouldn’t come. Sebelia tossed and turned, eventually getting up to boil water.

Ssshhh—

The sound of steam escaping made Sebelia reach for the tea she had bought with Claude during their trip to the market. It was a tea known to help with sleep.

As she poured the water and waited for the tea to brew, the quiet process calmed her troubled mind. But then, an unexpected sound startled her, almost causing her to drop the cup.

Knock, knock.

Someone was knocking at the door. The hesitant, cautious knock echoed again. Knock, knock. The sound lingered for a moment, and Sebelia slowly approached the door.

She felt as if she could almost hear his breath. It was quiet, tense, but there was something damp, like a heavy sigh, brushing past her ear, making her shiver.

“Who is it?”

It was not a question, but more of a confirmation. The breath on the other side of the door stopped. Sebelia tightened her grip on the handle.

It was him. The cold in her blue eyes, the burning mix of resentment and anger that had simmered in her chest, now rapidly cooled.

Finally, he had come. After a long silence that seemed to make him agonize, Sebelia spoke again.

“Tell me who you are.”

“It’s me.”

The fragile voice was barely audible as it slipped through the crack of the door.

“Bella, it’s me.”

Dehart placed his hand on the solidly closed door. The pale tips of his fingers scratched at the dark wood as if trying to burrow into it. But Sebelia, instead of responding, only returned silence.

So Dehart had to draw up his tangled voice again.

“The man who didn’t even know what he had done wrong, the fool who foolishly apologized just to escape the pain before him…”

“…”

“Would you… would you open the door?”

There was no answer. The silence deepened in the hallway as moonlight settled softly on his profile.

He suddenly turned his head and looked around. The silent corridor, the cold air, the solid door in front of him. A foolish man, standing there like an idiot. Everything was a chaotic, dreadful mess.

He would rather hang himself than accept this reality. But Dehart knew very well that he couldn’t do that.

Because she was on the other side of this door.

“Bella.”