After I Died, My Husband Went Mad - Chapter 289

Gripping the window ledge, Rosalyn peered outside. There, she saw a group of soldiers whose insignia was familiar, yet oddly out of place.

The Inverness Knights?

Why not the Imperial Guard? The question flashed through her mind for only a split second—she didn’t have the luxury to ponder it. If there was ever a chance to escape, now was it; survival, not mutual destruction, was her only goal.

But she didn’t make it even a step. A hand clamped around her throat, slamming her to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Ghh—…”

Rosalyn’s face turned white. She struggled desperately to pry Mrs. Gren’s hand from her neck, but it was hopeless.

“You miserable wretch. Why’d you have to show up and ruin everything for me? Why didn’t you just die back then instead of coming back to haunt me?”

“W-what…”

Even as her consciousness faded in the pool of her own blood, Gren’s bitter words echoed in Rosalyn’s ears and forced her eyes open.

“Hah. No, maybe this is a blessing. I can finish here tonight what I failed to do back then. In the end, people will only believe the words of the survivor.”

Gren’s mouth stretched in a gruesome smile. Somewhere nearby, Rosalyn heard the screams of people she couldn’t name.

“Dehart, you—today will be your end, and hers too.”

It was at that moment, as fear and fury twisted inside Rosalyn, that the sound of calm, measured footsteps cut through the chaos.

A man with chestnut-brown hair walked toward them, the wind tousling his hair. As the white sparks faded and darkness once again filled the corridor, his golden eyes blazed with a rage Rosalyn had never seen before.

“….”

Gren turned instinctively, her mouth falling open. In her wide, dilated eyes, his form was reflected with startling clarity.

“No… this can’t be—”

“That’s my line, Gren.”

“Claude…!”

He smiled—a fierce, wolfish grin. Rosalyn never knew he could look that way.

“Kyah!”

In the next instant, a surge of power exploded through the hallway. Gren was thrown aside, trembling.

This was no sharp, lightning strike—it was the force of a volcano, raw and overwhelming.

Suddenly, Gren realized who Claude truly was. He was the prodigy adored by House Inverness, the one who might have become the next head if not for Gilland.

A cold sweat broke down her back.

“I-I surrender, I give up!”

Claude tilted his head, approaching her slowly. Scrambling, Gren managed to get upright and scooted away on her backside.

“Surrender, is it?”

“Yes, so please—!”

She glanced at her defeated knights, her expression twisting with pain.

“Just spare my life. There’s no way I can fight you alone. I’ll do whatever you say, just… please…”

Claude sighed, then nodded. He bent down and gently lifted Rosalyn out of the pool of blood.

“First, let’s get you treated.”

“….”

“Don’t fall asleep, even if you’re tired, alright?”

Though Rosalyn was dizzy from blood loss, she managed a small nod. Claude gave a faint smile and shook his head. As he shifted her in his arms, Rosalyn noticed a slip of red paper falling from his collar.

What is that? She was too weak to ask and simply closed her eyes. Claude adjusted his hold and started to walk away—

Thunk.

The sickening sound of something sharp piercing flesh echoed down the corridor. Rosalyn’s eyes snapped open in shock.

Mrs. Gren was impaled through the abdomen by a blood-red spear that seemed to have appeared from thin air. She looked at them, her eyes filled with disbelief.

“Y-you…”

“Did you really think I’d just take her word for it forever?”

Claude turned slowly, his gaze dropping. A storm of boundless anger flickered in his sun-bright eyes.

“Gren. Please.”

“You… you—cough!”

“Stop tormenting my family, and die already.”

Boom!

Every window in the mansion shattered from the force. Outside, Dehart had already defeated the rest of Marquis Rimms’ knights Gren had brought, but arrived just too late to intervene.

Gren, who had taken all the pent-up anger of years of betrayal, was burned to a blackened corpse, barely recognizable.

“Let’s go home.”

Claude spoke gently to Rosalyn, who stared up at him with a dazed expression. They made their way out, protected by the Inverness Knights.

“Ah…”

It was only then that Rosalyn seemed to remember her situation, shaking her head in panic. To others, it probably just looked like she was shivering uncontrollably.

“N-no… I can’t… I have to go back…”

“If you’re worried about the Second Prince and Prince Hares holding the people of the Valerie estate hostage, you don’t need to anymore.”

As always, a clear and gentle voice shone even in the ruins of the mansion. Sebelia had arrived, with a soft smile.

“Your maid, the one you grew up with like a sister, and your friends—they’ve all been evacuated to a safe place.”