My Husband Never Dies - Chapter 60

The resolve that had once driven her to survive at any cost — to outlive everyone and prove them wrong — had dulled like the edge of a rusted blade. The reality that she could no longer live by her own will had left her with nothing but a crushing sense of powerlessness.

Then Laura’s cheerful voice rang out once more.

“My lady!”

The bright, resonant call echoed through the bedroom, pulling Evelyn from the depths of her thoughts.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!”

Laura guided Evelyn toward the bath. Even before she stepped into the water, the fragrance of fresh flowers drifted gently through the air.

Being helped into an extravagant marble bath by a maid had become strangely familiar and strangely absurd. I’ve really become a proper noblewoman.

“Is the temperature all right, my lady?”

“Yes.”

The pleasantly warm water slowly eased the tension from her overworked muscles.

The miserable weight pressing on her chest gradually dissolved into the comfort of the bath, and her thoughts drifted away beneath the hazy veil of rising steam.

“What would you like for breakfast?”

“…I’m not sure. I can’t decide.”

“How about some tender veal? The Master specifically instructed us to take extra care with your meals, my lady.”

As if turning a blind eye to an unpleasant truth, Evelyn remained silent. Unbothered by her mistress’s silence, Laura continued chatting away like a songbird.

“It really does seem as though the Master thinks of nothing but you, doesn’t it? Even before leaving the estate, the very first thing he impressed upon us was to make sure the madam’s meals were properly looked after…”

“What?”

Only half-listening until then, Evelyn suddenly looked up at the maid. Startled by the abrupt interruption, Laura’s eyes widened like a rabbit’s.

“What?”

“He left the estate?”

“Yes. Didn’t the Master tell you before he left? He said he’d be away from the duchy for about three days… my lady!”

Evelyn shot to her feet. She paid no mind to the cool air striking her bare skin as she stepped out of the bath.

Behind her, Laura hurriedly snatched up the dressing gown and draped the thin robe over Evelyn’s shoulders.

“My lady! My lady, you can’t go out like that! You’ll catch a chill!”

Her wet feet landed on the polished marble floor without hesitation. Afraid her mistress might slip, Laura rushed after her and hastily placed a pair of slippers at Evelyn’s feet.

“The Duke is gone?”

Throwing back the curtains, Evelyn flung the window open. Bright sunlight streamed into the room. She swept her gaze across the clear, brilliant morning sky.

Completely bewildered by her mistress’s sudden behavior, Laura answered hesitantly,

“Yes. He left before dawn. I imagine the Master didn’t tell her ladyship because he’ll be back before long. He probably didn’t want you worrying or waiting for him too much.”

Laura seemed to have mistaken her mistress’s unusual behavior for the disappointment of a wife missing her husband.

Evelyn, however, did nothing but draw in a long, deep breath. Fresh air flooded her lungs, like a beast finally feeling the leash loosen around its neck.

“My lady, you’ll catch a cold if you stay like this.”

Draping a soft towel over Evelyn’s damp golden hair, Laura spoke with quiet concern.

Looking out over the sunlit garden, Evelyn’s eyes sparkled for the first time in what felt like ages.

Now’s your chance. The instinct of a hunted fugitive whispered to her. This may be your last opportunity to escape this godforsaken fog.

But after staring for a long moment at the walls surrounding the estate — fortifications even more formidable than the prison walls of Zelakent — Evelyn slowly turned away from the window.

This wasn’t an opportunity. It was a trap.

‘I told you already. Nothing will change.’

The man’s mocking voice replayed itself inside her mind.

Human beings were creatures of habit. They learned, and Evelyn knew. No matter where she ran, the fog would find her. Because the fog existed everywhere in this world.

The racing of her heart lasted only a moment before it slowly settled back into silence. Her spirit, worn down into helplessness, no longer even dared to dream of escaping the vast prison that was Brumfield.

Evelyn Brumfield would leave this place only in death. The thought carved itself into her mind like an unshakable truth.

As Evelyn stepped away from the window, Laura hovered anxiously nearby. The maid llet out a quiet sigh of relief at the sight of her mistress’s expressionless face.

“Shall I have the bathwater warmed again?”

“No.”

Not once did Evelyn’s expression change as she walked away from the window.

“The Master will be back before long. If he were planning to be away for very long, I’m sure he would have told you, my lady.”

Evelyn swallowed a bitter laugh. Laura was trying to comfort her as though she were a lonely wife saddened by her husband’s absence. Completely unaware that Evelyn wished the Duke would never return.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right.”

A faint bitterness colored her reply. Laura looked at her mistress with quiet sympathy.