My Husband Lives Inside a Painting – Chapter 14

Author: isuzuuy

“……”

“But how heartless. Belladonna never gave a clear answer in the end. Tsk. If I had known it would turn out like this, I should have married you off somewhere else.”

My father sounded exactly like someone who had suffered a financial loss.

“By the way, what on earth did you do for an entire year without even having a child? If you had at least given birth to a son by now, you could have secured your position as the heir to the Ortega family.”

“……”

“Enough. It seems your husband was more of a problem than you were.”

It was strange.

When he blamed me, I hadn’t felt anything at all. But the moment Camille’s name came up, an unbearable sense of displeasure welled up inside me.

“…He didn’t do anything wrong.”

It was an excessive reaction, even to me.

“I was the one who asked him to sleep in separate rooms. I was the one who pushed him away every day. It was all me.”

“What?”

For a moment, my father looked blank, as though he couldn’t understand what I meant.

Then he raised his voice.

“Then you should have done your part properly!”

Bang!

He slammed his hand down on the table, making the teacup rattle violently. The black tea sloshed dangerously close to spilling over the rim.

“Do you know what people are saying about our family now? Do you know how those people who used to hover around us hoping to get some crumbs are tearing us apart now?!”

“……”

“Of all things, suicide! Why did it have to be suicide?! With that kind of stigma attached to you, you can’t even go to the temple!”

For a moment, silence settled over the room, broken only by my father’s ragged breathing.

Pressing his temples to calm his rising emotions, my father soon let out a heavy sigh, as though he had given up.

“Haa… Enough. It’s all over now. What can we do about it?”

Watching him get angry all by himself and then calm himself down all by himself was nothing but ridiculous to me.

I remained silent, suppressing the cold, dying feeling in my heart, but he threw another stone at me.

“The Agnus volunteer schedule has been arranged. I’ll come pick you up next week, so be ready.”

My father continued speaking without even looking directly at me.

“A great many noble ladies will be attending. It would be beneficial for you to show your face personally if you want to quiet the rumors.”

My brows furrowed involuntarily.

I had no idea how this was supposed to be the conclusion.

“If that’s the purpose, wouldn’t it be better for me not to show myself in public for the time being?”

“Enough! Do you think you’re in any position to talk back to me?!”

I instinctively pressed my lips tightly together at his furious outburst. He shouted as though cutting off my words, then took another breath.

And then, lowering his voice so no one else could hear, he continued quietly.

“I hear many ladies with unmarried sons will be attending this time. You need to find a way to survive, too. Hmm?”

“Don’t tell me… you’re telling me to remarry?”

“Shh, keep your voice down. There are too many ears around.”

“Father!”

My breath caught in my throat.

Had I really heard him correctly?

Was he telling me to leave Camille behind and remarry?

“How could you possibly…!”

I was at a loss for words, my mouth merely opening and closing.

How could someone wearing a human face say something like that?

Even as I stood there in shock, my father didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. He merely clicked his tongue.

“It’s been an entire year. What have we gained from it, hmm? Nothing but a single viscountcy and one recommendation letter for Louis’s holy knight order.”

Behind his sarcasm about what a pitiful result it was came a cold sneer.

“Belladonna will deny it, of course, but you can tell just by the fact that she’s already called her second son back. The moment that bastard gets himself a wife, you’ll be cast aside immediately.”

My father rose from his seat and stood before me.

His rough hand casually settled on my shoulder.

“Prepare yourself to leave this house quietly.”

“……”

“You only need to listen to your father.”

My father knew that I was afraid of this kind of physical contact.

That was why he always ended our conversations like this.

But this time was different.

“Father, do you even know what fidelity means?”

“…What?”

A voice so cold that even I was surprised by it slipped from my lips.

“It’s only been a week. How can you already say something like that?”

The surprise in my father’s eyes soon transformed into a mocking gaze.

“Fidelity? What kind of fidelity is there in a political marriage, hmm?”

His words struck a nerve.

So sharply that, for a moment, the strength left my eyes as I stared at him.

“Did you really think you were going to stay in this family for the rest of your life, Orb?”

“……”

“How laughable. No, you’re so naive that I almost feel sorry for you.”

The wrinkles between his brows deepened as though he were dealing with a child who had yet to grow up.

After another deep sigh, he continued in a lecturing tone.

“Orb. Come to your senses.”

I quietly lowered my gaze.

“Holding on to the dead will leave you with nothing but regret.”

“……”

My tightly clenched fists and lips clearly revealed my defiance, but I couldn’t refute him.

The hand that settled on my shoulder once more this time gave it a slight squeeze.

“…I’ll be going first. See you next week.”

Click.

After my father left, silence descended upon the room where I was left alone.

The sound of his footsteps grew more distant and soon disappeared completely, but I remained frozen in place.

“My lady… Are you all right?”

Romain, who had briefly stepped away to give us privacy, cautiously approached and placed a hand on my frozen forehead.

“My goodness! Y-your body is burning up!”

“…Ah, Romain.”

I barely managed to force out my oppressed voice.

“Could you… move me to the bed?”

“Yes, yes! Of course. I’ll support you.”

I had only taken a few steps, but my vision swayed wildly and my stomach twisted.

I lay down on the bed and stared out the window, where I could see my father’s carriage disappearing into the distance.

“Holding on to the dead will leave you with nothing but regret.”

The hallucinated voice that refused to leave my ears seemed to tighten around my throat.

In the end, I squeezed my eyes shut as though admitting defeat.

‘…I miss Camille.’

***

The place I reached after riding in a carriage without stopping was an orphanage located in the capital’s slums.

It was called Agnus Orphanage. Though it wasn’t large, it was where the greatest amount of donations gathered.

Omahage Clodel, who had arrived early, greeted the noble ladies as he had before, mingling among them.

“Lady Leonhart! You’re early.”

“Oh my, Sir Omahage. Good morning.”

“Yes, the weather has warmed considerably, hasn’t it? It’s warm enough now that we don’t even need coats.”

“Indeed. Ho ho ho…”

The ladies exchanged subtle glances among themselves.

They seemed to be contemplating what stance to take toward him now that his position had changed.

‘This man certainly has thick skin.’

The subtly altered gazes swept over Omahage from head to toe.

‘Does he really think he’s become somebody just because he was given a viscountcy?’

From baron to viscount. His status had certainly risen on the surface.

But people always measured others according to what they believed they could actually offer.

So perhaps it was only natural that his value had plummeted the moment the Duke family’s son died and his married daughter’s position became uncertain.

“Hahaha. By the way, how is Caleb doing? I heard he recently graduated from the Academy?”

“Yes, well…”

Linda gave an awkward expression and nodded vaguely.

‘Why does he casually call someone else’s son by his first name? I suppose you can’t expect manners from a nouveau riche.’

Her sharp thoughts, which had vowed to properly humiliate him someday, scattered instantly at the sound of someone shouting.

“Isn’t that an Ortega carriage?”

“I heard Lady Belladonna wasn’t coming today.”

Everyone’s gaze turned toward a particularly splendid carriage that was displaying its magnificence.

Until the carriage door opened, people whispered among themselves, trying to guess who would step out.

Belladonna? Or Claude Ortega, said to be his second son?

‘Whoever gets out, I need to make sure they remember me.’

But the person who emerged from the carriage defied everyone’s expectations.