I Became The Wife Of The Cursed Grand Duke Chapter 147

“Yum, that smells delicious.”

Evelyn entered the restaurant, her nose filled with the aroma of grilled meats and vegetables. Though meat had recently made her nauseous, the scent now made her mouth water.

 

‘Thank goodness. You’re taking after your father and eating everything.’

 

She’d never experienced such intense hunger before. Smiling to herself, Evelyn imagined this ravenous appetite was her child’s way of urging her to eat.

 

After ordering, she instinctively scanned the room. A happy family caught her eye – parents laughing with their child over a shared meal.

 

“…….”

 

Suddenly, Kalian’s face flashed in her mind – his sweet expression, the way he looked at her. Tears threatened to spill. She shook her head, trying to suppress the longing, but the image only grew clearer.

 

“Enjoy your meal.”

 

The server’s voice snapped her back to reality as a steaming plate appeared before her.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Evelyn devoured the food with uncharacteristic speed. While not as refined as Chef Jeff’s cooking at the Grand Duchy, the flavors satisfied her completely.

 

‘My first proper meal in days.’

 

She rubbed her full belly contentedly when sudden commotion erupted at the entrance.

 

“How are we supposed to find someone who’s gone to ground?”

“Orders are clear – detain anyone suspicious. Burn buildings if necessary to flush them out.”

 

A group of rough-looking men barged in. Evelyn’s heart plummeted as she pulled her hood lower.

 

“You’re insane.”

“He must be, chasing after a runaway wife with the capital in chaos.”

 

‘Kalian’s men.’ She glared at them, irritated by their disrespectful tone. Their shabby uniforms suggested mercenaries rather than proper soldiers.

 

Then, without warning:

 

“Ouch…”

 

Her stomach turned violently, the delicious meal now revolting. Gritting her teeth, Evelyn slammed her cup down quietly to avoid attention. Fortunately, the men ignored her completely.

 

“The empire’s collapsing, and he’s worried about a missing wife?”

“The plague’s got a seven percent fatality rate now.”

“Heard Bellatra’s already stacked corpses like firewood.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

On her way home, Evelyn bought a newspaper.

 

‘People dying mysteriously… Could this be dark magic?’

 

The mercenaries’ conversation haunted her. Flipping past her own wanted notice, she found plague reports covering Cardassian.

 

“Gods… it’s true.”

 

A mysterious illness killing victims within three days, their bodies turning black. Some claimed it was the murdered imperial family’s vengeful spirits.

 

‘I’ve never seen anything like this…’

 

Sitting on a bench near Mrs. Allen’s tavern, Evelyn pieced together the timing.

 

‘Too coincidental.’

 

Rumors swirled about the High Priest’s involvement in the emperor’s death via black magic.

 

‘What if he escaped?’

 

Reports mentioned the Crown Prince sending councilors to Bellatra, but Evelyn worried: ‘If it’s dark magic, regular councilors won’t help.’

 

She considered warning Kalian through the texts but quickly dismissed it.

 

‘He’d trace them back to me.’

 

With her Medor-bound ship departing in four days, she reasoned: ‘Plenty of others can help. My child’s safety comes first.’

 

As dusk fell, she hunched against the chill and headed home.

 

“Search thoroughly! This place has ties to the Grand Duchess!”

 

Benjamin’s voice made her freeze.

 

BANG!

 

The tavern door burst open. A tall figure emerged, running a hand through his hair while muttering in Moorish.

 

Though distant, Evelyn recognized him instantly.

 

“Kal…”

 

Her throat tightened. She bit her lip against rising emotion.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

Even as she whispered, she couldn’t look away. His disheveled appearance was visible even from afar.

 

Placing a protective hand on her stomach, she whispered: “I’m not abandoning you. I’m protecting what matters.”

 

With that, Evelyn melted into the shadows.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After scouring Parminion and Litchev without success, Kalian exited Mrs. Allen’s tavern in frustration.

 

“Where in hell did she go…?”

 

He worried about Evelyn suffering somewhere unfamiliar. The anguish was unbearable.

 

‘I can’t undo this.’

 

Memories flooded back – their last conversation:

 

“I’m going to the palace with Deborah.”

“If that’s your wish… just be careful.”

 

Her forced smile had fooled no one.

 

“You started this, but I’ll end it.”

 

Had his response been too cold? The wedding ring felt lifeless in his palm.

 

‘How ironic – for all our love, we’ve left each other nothing.’

 

The pain threatened to crush him.

 

‘If I returned now, she’d come running if I called…’

 

Then a whisper echoed in his mind.