My Husband Never Dies - Chapter 29

The ballroom was grand. The king and queen, the two princes, and the Duke and Duchess of Brumfield. Over ten attendants served the six at the table.

The floor was covered with a crimson rug. The large marble table, big enough for several men to lie across, was adorned with extravagant floral arrangements. Above, a massive chandelier sparkled.

The king, seated at the head of the table, smiled widely and spoke first.

“I am pleased to be having dinner with the Duke again.”

Evelyn glanced sideways at the man seated next to her. As expected, the Duke didn’t wear an expression of humble gratitude. But his demeanor was unremarkable, and despite any objections, it wouldn’t be considered impolite. It was simply neutral.

“And Evelyn.”

“Yes.”

At the king’s call, Evelyn slightly lowered her head and answered politely, just as she had been taught.

“I can’t express how happy I am to see you doing well. Likewise, Rowena must be rejoicing in heaven. Considering all the hardships you went through… truly…”

The king’s emotional voice made Evelyn pause. When one reaches such a high position, is pretending to be sincere just part of the job? To speak like that to a murderer who had crawled through the filth of Zelakent… it almost seemed like he meant it.

“Your Majesty.”

At that moment, Adrian interrupted with a faint smile. Evelyn looked at the prince, who had come back from the dead, with a wary glance. His green eyes seemed warm as they met hers.

“Ah, yes. I suppose I brought up a heavy subject for no reason. Evelyn, you look so much like Rowena. It must be why it makes me feel this way. Rowena, even though she was a bit unusual, was such a kind and beautiful girl…”

Evelyn watched the king, who had a tender expression on his face as if looking at a real niece, with a skeptical gaze. The same went for the prince. Adrian wore a beaming and proud expression, which seemed strange to her.

Something… was off.

The world felt twisted. The eerie sensation of everything being wrong — the same one she had felt in Brumfield — crept over Evelyn. Ah, and now that she thought about it, the prince had sent a warm letter to his cousin as well…

She instinctively glanced at the man sitting next to her.

As if he had been waiting, the man turned his head to look at Evelyn with a deep smile. His blue eyes reflected the chandelier’s light, gleaming oddly. Though every instinct screamed to flee from his gaze, Evelyn clenched her fists beneath the table instead.

Suddenly, his words came to mind: “The ‘real’ princess,” he had called her.

It was then that the final puzzle piece fell into place, and she understood why everything felt so off. Just like when Evelia Locke had been wrongfully accused of regicide, in this moment, Evelyn Brumfield was being accepted as the true princess.

The only daughter of the late Princess Rowena.

“Ha…”

As this crazy reality unfolded before her eyes, Evelyn couldn’t hide the absurd laugh that escaped her lips.

“Haha!”

Evelyn’s laughter poured over the king and prince as they chatted away. Their conversation stopped, and the king, queen, and two princes turned to look at her.

“What’s so funny?”

The king’s voice was gentle, like he was speaking to a beloved child, yet there was an unmistakable tenderness in his gaze. He would have never given a mere murderer from the streets, a lowly killer, such a loving look. Evelyn didn’t answer. Instead, she shifted her attention to the duke.

“Quite impressive.”

She muttered with a cynical smile, ignoring the king’s question. The room’s eyes turned to the duke, awaiting his response. But the duke only shrugged his shoulders, offering no reply.

Evelyn narrowed her gaze, then suddenly spoke to Prince Adrian.

“Adrian, how was Zelakent? I’ve never seen a place so filthy and foul-smelling. Do you know how many people die there each day?”

Prince Adrian blinked slowly, as though the words barely registered in his mind. After a pause, he finally spoke.

“Ah, this is your first time attending your aunt Rowena’s memorial, isn’t it?”

The conversation stopped there. More precisely, Adrian acted as if he hadn’t heard a word Evelyn had said.

“This will be a special day,” he continued, as though nothing had happened. “Aunt Rowena will surely be happy to see you, happy and at peace.”

“Indeed.”

The king nodded gravely at his eldest son’s words, his expression heavy with the weight of his deceased sibling’s memory. A deep sadness flickered in his eyes, as though reliving the loss all over again.

Evelyn stared at the people around her, her gaze cold and unsettling. She had encountered her share of people who had dismissed her in the past. Growing up in squalor, she had crossed paths with countless people who looked down on her. But those were the kinds of people who wore their disdain openly, with a clear desire to belittle her as a dirty criminal.

But this… this was different.

“Adrian, didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Hm? What about it?”

Prince Adrian’s reply came, as though the words hadn’t even reached him. A swell of frustration surged within Evelyn, and she raised her voice.

“Zelakent!”

“Ah! You know, it might be nice to visit Dalebury sometime. You know, Rowena, your aunt, loved Daelbury so much.”

Adrian’s tone was light and disinterested.

“She always said it was a place of peace.”

“Yes, yes. Rowena always looked peaceful there. It was a place that cleared her mind. Ah… Rowena loved the library there. It’s not too far; you should visit it with the Duke.”

The king added his own thoughts, as if recalling fond memories of Rowena, and the unease in Evelyn’s expression deepened. Just then, a low chuckle escaped from beside her. The sound made her blood run cold.

Evelyn clenched her teeth so hard it felt like her jaw might crack. The source of all her torment, Calix, was watching her with a sinister smile, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

“My Eve, enduring so much.”

His voice, sweet yet chilling, made the air around her thick with tension. Then, the queen, who had remained silent up to that point, beamed at the Duke and his wife, her smile almost too perfect.

“You two must be very happy with your marriage. You look so lovely together, my lord.”

The queen’s smile, as flawless as a painting, seemed to only add to the unsettling atmosphere. Calix, with his usual audacity, responded with a grin that bordered on the infuriating.

“Isn’t she lovely?”

The gaze that turned toward Evelyn made her stomach churn. She wanted to vomit right there, the impulse nearly overwhelming her. She bit down so hard on her teeth that she thought they might break, but somehow managed to suppress the urge to act on it.

Around her, the laughter of the others — five people, or rather, four, and one entity that couldn’t even be properly categorized — rang out loudly. Their laughter overlapped, each chuckle more grotesque than the last.

“At first, I had my doubts about this marriage, but Evelyn, I’m so glad to see you’re happy now.”

Between bursts of laughter, the king’s voice broke through, sounding surprisingly sincere. His eyes, green and glinting, turned toward his son. Adrian nodded with a look of approval. Evelyn’s hand, trembling with rage, tightened into a fist once more.

Is nothing I say getting through?