After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 223

He probably assumed Gren was no longer relevant after being ousted from Hillend Hall.

Yet she still had a role to play. Silas shook his head at his son and waved him off.

“Go on. Next time, I’ll send someone else instead of you.”

“But, Father—”

“Do you think I should just watch while someone plotting treachery stands right in front of the culmination of our plan?!”

Silas’ rare loud command left Nathan frozen pale. The boy trembled like a scared child as Silas exited the office.

Thunk.

A drop fell onto the thick carpet. Blood trickled from Nathan’s clenched fist.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Inverness estate basement, Roden, having been subjected to several threats, minor lightning jolts, and genuine threats of being buried along with his family in the north, finally spilled the truth.

It began with why he hadn’t changed the tranquilizer prescription despite knowing the side effects.

“The side effects weren’t life-threatening. You know that, Duke! I… I just followed Mrs. Gren’s wishes because she didn’t want the prescription changed. She treats you as if you were her own son.”

Roden trembled and pleaded for mercy, glancing at Dehart as he awkwardly smiled.

“You see, Duke, I’m merely an employee. I couldn’t defy Mrs. Gren’s orders.”

Dehart tilted his head, watching Roden—the man who had prescribed dangerously potent sedatives for over ten years—try to wash his hands of responsibility.

Roden continued, spilling unsolicited complaints about how difficult it had been under the supervision of higher-ups.

But Dehart wasn’t interested in any of that.

Bang!

“Ah!”

A burning stench and the singeing of cloth made Roden blanch as the smell of burnt skin came through the tattered fabric.

“I should have told you there’s only one chance.”

Dehart’s commanding voice reverberated through the basement. Beyond the chilling darkness, golden eyes moved lightly. Eli approached Roden with a crisp smile, producing a clattering sound.

“Now, it’s my turn, old man.”

Moments later, having extracted everything he wanted from Roden, Eli brushed the blood from his hands. Roden, completely drained from head to toe, was dumped onto a haystack like a near-dead man.

“It wasn’t your uncle, it was Mrs. Gren.”

Dehart murmured from beside him. Eli glanced at the sprawled Roden and handed Dehart a damp cloth. Splattered blood marked Dehart’s cheek and jaw from participating in the interrogation.

“Mrs. Gren was from the east, wasn’t she?”

“…Yes. It’s been so long that no one recalls her origins anymore, but yes.”

Dehart wiped the dried blood, muttering in a low voice, and opened the basement door.

Creak. The chilling sound ushered in the cold dawn air, scratching his cheeks.

* * *

The estate was silent in the early morning. Eli, claiming he couldn’t sleep, voluntarily went on patrol. Dehart walked the empty corridors.

“Hah.”

He ran a hand through his hair. Everything had started for Sebelia—to expose the Wheddon family’s cruelty and take revenge.

But now, Gren shows up out of nowhere…

This complicated things. Dehart needed to determine how long Gren had been in league with Marquis Wheddon. And if their alliance had been ongoing for years…

He bit his lip, forcing himself to keep moving despite his unsettled thoughts. Wandering aimlessly, he eventually reached an unfamiliar section of the estate.

“Here…”

Frowning, he realized he was near the kitchen. After a moment’s thought, he stepped inside.

He needed a cup of coffee so bitter it would wake him instantly.

“Ugh.”

The first sip was horrifically bitter, exactly as intended. The fog of confusion clouding his mind vanished immediately.

“Haah.”

Now the target came into focus. It wasn’t Gren or the north—it was the plan being attempted again.

Information about the trap extracted from Roden: the First Queen intended to lure Sebelia to the exhibition, so Nathan could administer the d**g to her once more.

“Clever or stupid, I can’t tell.”

Tch. Dehart clicked his tongue and strode out into the corridor. Then he ran into Sebelia.

“Dehart?”