After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 242

After revealing the shocking truth without hesitation, Balak declared with confidence:

“Bella, there’s no way you should be staying in his house. I don’t know why you’ve been tolerating him, but you don’t have to anymore.”

Balak’s gaze softened, and with a tender smile, he opened his arms wide.

“Come to our home.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go home.”

Home? Our home?

Sebelia stared at him in stunned silence, caught in a whirlwind of shock. Meeting her unexpected cousin, hearing about her mother, and learning she belonged to the prestigious Lockwood household—all of that paled in comparison to this single declaration.

“Our… home…”

Her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably. As she struggled to process his words, Dehart grabbed her wrist and brought her hand to his cheek.

“Dehart?”

“What shameless act do you think you’re attempting in front of me?”

Dehart ignored Balak’s fury, with a brazen expression. For a long moment, he pressed Sebelia’s hand against his cheek, then suddenly lifted his head.

“I expected this.”

With a soft sigh, he released her wrist. Yet Balak could not relax. Now he placed his hand on Sebelia’s cheek.

The gesture was so natural, so casual, that it made Balak’s chest tighten. Watching his cousin accept Dehart’s actions with calm, Balak silently felt tears prick his eyes.

Meanwhile, Sebelia, unaware of the desperate emotions playing out beside her, blinked in curiosity.

“What’s happening?”

Dehart silently looked down at her, then turned away. Shateian was slowly entering the parlor. Dehart, as if waiting for the cue, called him over.

“Your Highness.”

“Hm?”

“I’d appreciate it if you could provide another room as you’ve already had an unpleasant guest.”

“It’s not a difficult request, but is something wrong?”

Shateian took the teasing remark in stride, raising a finger to summon a servant. Dehart said again.

“Miss Bella’s condition isn’t good. That fever we barely controlled seems to be rising again.”

Sebelia suddenly pressed her cheek and gasped. He was right—the faint fever was returning.

How did he notice?

Just as she looked up at him in wonder, Balak let out a disbelieving sigh.

“In that case, we can’t waste any time. Shateian, have a carriage ready. I’ll leave immediately with Bella.”

Dehart scoffed at Balak’s words. When Balak shot him a glare, Dehart’s voice turned cold.

“It’s better not to come close until her fever subsides. We never know what illness she might catch.”

“What?”

“Planning to take the patient by carriage… there’s a limit to how reckless one can be.”

Passing a grinding Balak, Dehart said to Claude:

“Summon the doctor to the palace. Tell him Bella’s condition isn’t good.”

Once Dehart followed the servants, Claude took a slow survey of the now-disheveled parlor. Balak and Shateian, deep in serious discussion, paused to glance at him.

“Do you have something to say, Appenz?”

“No, Your Highness. I’ll take my leave.”

Claude left with a vague farewell, feeling the weight of their gaze on his back.

* * *

Once inside the room, Sebelia leaned against the long chaise instead of lying on the bed. Dehart, who had wanted her to lie down, raised an eyebrow. Instead of fussing, he gave instructions to the servants and returned.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Still not, I suppose.”

There was no room for compromise regarding her health. Sebelia looked at him strangely. He, too, was in a way a patient of sorts.

Not taking care of himself…

She swallowed her impulse to snap and wiped the sweat from her brow. Dehart, as if he had anticipated it, placed a towel into a basin that the servant had brought.

“You’re not planning to do it yourself, are you?”

“…Is that not allowed?”

How could she say no to such a sullen request? Sebelia sighed, looking at Dehart as he took the dripping towel in his hands and peered at her with a pitiful expression.

In hindsight, she should have stopped him from kneeling from the start.

“Do as you like.”

Naturally, Sebelia extended her hand to the man who was kneeling before her. Carefully, he wiped the back of her hand with the towel.

After cleaning up to her wrist, the towel hovered briefly in midair before gently touching her forehead. As he wiped the sweat away, a breeze seemed to cool her feverish skin.

“Ha…”

Sebelia let out an involuntary sigh. Their eyes met.

It was as if a tiny spark had leapt between them, accompanied by a faint crackle, like fire igniting in midair.

“…….”