After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 247

He tossed Eli’s coat, which had been draped over the sofa, far across the room and personally seated her.

“I’ll have refreshments brought—stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

Sebelia didn’t refuse his kindness and decided to make herself comfortable. She didn’t turn down the warm tea and sweet desserts either; in fact, she felt she needed those things just to keep her composure while reading the article.

“Whew.”

Taking a small, steady breath, Sebelia opened the newspaper. Her father’s name, boldly printed, filled the page alongside his fervent statements.

Dehart returned to his own seat, occasionally glancing over at her with an anxious look.

As expected, the article was written wholly in Silas’s favor.

‘Marquis Silas Wheddon fiercely denounces the Imperial Security Bureau’s biased actions.’ ‘Everyone is being fooled by the unbelievable and absurd existence of an illusionist.’ ‘All we ask for is a reasonable, logical investigation.’

Sebelia’s blue eyes grew icy as she read.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy to tie him down.

Nathan had never confessed. He insisted, even if it cost him his life, that he wouldn’t implicate the Wheddon family and claimed everything was his own doing.

“Did they coordinate their stories ahead of time…?”

Marquis Wheddon was no different. While he criticized the Second Prince and the Bureau, he insisted Nathan’s actions were nothing more than an individual’s mistake.

That was why Dehart had not brought out Roden as a witness. If things went wrong, everything could end with Nathan alone taking the fall.

What a headache. Sebelia set the paper aside and rested her chin in her hand.

“Does Nathan really believe his father will save him, no matter what?”

Her voice was cool, and Dehart looked up at her.

“He’s spent far more time with his father than I have… He’s seen his cruel and filthy side countless times. And yet, he’s taking all the blame on himself. Why is Nathan so sure his father will never abandon him?”

A hint of sympathy crept into Sebelia’s tone. Dehart watched her for a long moment, then set down his pen.

“I’m glad you can think that way now.”

“…What do you mean?”

“If it were the old you, you would have been wounded by Nathan’s blind trust in Silas. It’s like proof that he received all the love you never got.”

His low, calm voice echoed through the study. Sebelia blinked, mulling over his words.

And she realized he was right. In the past, she would have been eaten up with jealousy at the father-son bond, brooding over her own unhappy childhood.

But just now, not once had those old thoughts crossed her mind.

While she was reflecting, Dehart leaned in with a cheeky expression.

“You can’t wait to see Silas at the gallows.”

“…”

“Don’t give me that shocked look, Bella. We both know it’s true.”

Sebelia slowly closed her eyes, letting out a quiet breath. In the darkness behind her eyelids, her father’s face appeared—the face of the man who tried to kill her and her mother.

When her delicate eyelids lifted, her blue eyes met Dehart’s golden gaze, shining brilliantly beneath his black hair stirred by the breeze.

Sebelia smiled.

“You’re right.”

Something indefinable flickered in her eyes. She reached for the papers Dehart had been reviewing. He didn’t stop her.

“In fact, there’s something that’s been bothering me since I read the article.”

Her gaze grew colder as she looked at the documents.

“Nathan may not know it, but I think my father is hoping I’ll be the one to deal with him.”

That’s exactly the neat solution her father would want. Her soft voice filled the room, and Dehart frowned.

“Are you suggesting he wants to use your hand to sever the tail?”

He hadn’t thought Silas could be that ruthless. Dehart gave a short laugh, but Sebelia just shrugged.

“If I don’t step forward, he might do it himself. It’d be a shock to Nathan, but my father is more than capable of it.”

“As hard as it is to believe, I suppose you’re right.”

“For the family’s honor, he might even kneel and beg for his son’s execution, pretending to endure the pain for the sake of the Marquisate.”

“That’s a scene I’d rather not even imagine. Disgusting.”

Dehart shook his head, as if nauseated, and Sebelia silently agreed.

“We’d better wrap up the additional investigations before anything that vile can happen.”

“Absolutely.”

With pained eyes, Sebelia looked down at the documents. Names she didn’t recognize were written out in a careful hand.

They were petitions from the families of women still missing—those presumed to be Nathan Wheddon’s victims whose bodies had yet to be found.

After transferring Nathan to the Security Bureau, Shateian had asked Sebelia directly about her wishes. He’d offered to sentence Nathan to death if she wanted, but Sebelia had refused.

There were still victims whose bodies hadn’t been found—women who hadn’t even appeared in the hellscape she’d conjured, not even important enough to linger in Nathan’s own memory.

Until she uncovered their fate by picking through the depths of Nathan’s mind, he couldn’t be allowed to die.

With a long sigh, Sebelia set down the papers, feeling as though a heavy stone had settled on her chest.