I Killed My Husband

The sensation of steel slicing through flesh traveled up her hand.

Half of the elbow-length dagger was buried inside a human body, while the remaining half flashed with pale, lethal sharpness.

Just as she had been trained, the blade slipped between the ribs and drove straight into the opponent’s heart.

It was a success so perfect it was almost unbelievable.

Chloe was killing the man who was legally her husband
with her own hands.

She twisted the angle of the dagger and forced it in deeper.

The edge of her palm gripping the hilt pressed flush against her husband’s chest.

The dying man’s pulse and the frantic pounding of her own heart collided out of rhythm, until only a deep, heavy thud remained in her chest.

Afraid she might fail to finish him in a single strike, she had straddled her sleeping husband and sealed his mouth in advance.

From beginning to end, not a single sound escaped into the hand pressing down on him.

Chloe had not expected herself to do this well.

She had assumed theory and practice would differ and estimated her chances of success to be low.

Even if things went well, she had expected a prolonged struggle.

Yet in just a few seconds, she had cleanly stopped only his heart.

‘Finally. At last, this bastard….’

A violent surge carried her body upward, filling her with rapture.

Flashes of light burst before her eyes as she gasped for breath.

The hand releasing the dagger trembled violently, but not solely from fear of consequences.

The sensation was like collapsing the very center of the world, sending chills and shudders through her body.

Her husband, Philip, stared ahead with wrinkled eyes wide open.

It looked as though he were watching the person who had ended his life, so Chloe deliberately met his gaze.

He could no longer see her, but simply knowing she stood within his line of sight sent a thrill racing through her spine.

‘Don’t you wonder why this happened to you?’

She whispered softly to him in her mouth.

The Philip who had lived would never have imagined this.

He would never have expected an absolutely obedient subordinate, a devotee who had willingly worshipped him as a god, to carry out a surprise assassination.

Perhaps once the soul leaves the flesh, he would finally understand.

That the long, deep resentment she carried was not confined to this world alone.

‘You were punished. For the crimes you will commit later.’

Recently,

Chloe had briefly pondered whether it was right to punish someone for acts not yet committed.

There were philosophers who argued that human free will was like a ball bouncing unpredictably.

They claimed the human heart was subtly fickle.

One day one might crave a cream cake, and another day a chocolate cake, and choosing differently would lead to different outcomes.

But at some point, Chloe had begun to feel that there might be no branching paths at all.

Everything was exactly the same as before she returned from death.

Philip beat her the same number of times, and brainwashed her in the same ways.

His schemes to push her into becoming the emperor’s mistress were no different either.

There was no case of cream changing into chocolate.

This bastard was the type to suck her dry down to the marrow and even trade her death for his own gain.

He deserved to die based solely on the persecution she had already endured.

And if she did not strike first, she would inevitably be destroyed.

So she had to kill him while revenge was still possible.

It was simply a matter of throwing trash into the bin a little earlier than scheduled.

‘So… what will change now?’

Even if nothing changed, she had accomplished one thing.

She had repaid the resentment that had accumulated from birth until now.

The trembling refused to stop.

Even after the surge of intense emotion passed, her body continued to malfunction on its own.

The fact that she had killed a person was itself a tremendous shock.

With a dull ache at the back of her head, Chloe tilted her neck from side to side.

She closed and opened her eyes several times, trying to steady herself.

When she went to sweep back her disheveled hair, she saw that her hands and clothes were a mess.

She scrubbed her hands raw in the bathroom, but the stains on her clothing would not fully come out.

She had dressed in outdoor clothes in advance to escape, but returning to her room to change was far too dangerous.

Hoping the darkness would conceal the red traces, she had no choice but to climb out the window as she was and secure her escape route.

Cold sweat soaked her back as she climbed down the wall, gripping the gaps between bricks.

Falling from the second floor of a low villa and getting slightly injured would not have been a problem.

If she were discovered, she would be as good as dead.

Count Philip Larouge’s brutal subordinates were lurking everywhere.

With her courage shriveling, Chloe stepped into the courtyard.

She felt as though venomous eyes might flash at her from somewhere at any moment.

Even as she moved without a sound, each step felt like walking on thin ice.

She had been meticulous to the extreme before choosing today as D-day, wary of those with exceptional killing ability.

Rather than the main estate with eyes watching from all directions, another location would be safer.

That was why she had targeted the day they traveled to a villa on the outskirts of the city.

Just as she vaulted over the wall taller than her height, a shout rang out.

“Who goes there!”

She had been discovered.

Chloe hurriedly leapt down the other side of the wall.

A shrill whistle tore through the black, inky sky.

Shouts of pursuit clung to her back as she sprinted away at full speed.

They were far swifter and more capable than she was.

As she ran until her lungs felt ready to burst, she glanced back and saw someone kneeling on one knee in the distance, aiming a rifle with deadly precision.

Chloe ran with everything she had and threw herself behind a tree.

The thick bark exploded as the bullet struck the trunk instead of her.

Before she realized it, she had entered the forest.

The forest offered better cover from gunfire than the open grounds around the villa, but the distance between her and her pursuers only narrowed.

The uneven slopes of the low mountain favored trained warriors with strong stamina over an emaciated woman.

A deadly chase unfolded.

Bullets grazed her clothing, and at times the enemy’s breath reached her heels.

Only when the moon tilted westward did she barely manage to escape the forest alive.

It was thanks to the small number of men who had accompanied the count to the villa.

Unable to fully shake them off, at risk of being caught at any moment, Chloe dragged her exhausted legs onto the main road.

‘This is where it really begins.’

She had planned her escape route up to the forest’s edge, but the road beyond lay outside her knowledge.

From here on, she needed quick judgment.

She would either steal a horse from a nearby home or hitch a ride on a passing carriage.

Returning to the forest was no longer an option.

She could only move forward.

Her heart raced, and the shadow of pursuit loomed close.

Stepping into the open terrain only amplified her fear.

Her frantic eyes flicked backward and then scanned both ends of the road.

Her iron-scented breath scraped painfully against her dry throat.

Her chances of escaping safely were slim.

To shake off the vast, field-like despair, she imagined what would come after surviving this crisis.

How wonderful a new life would be in a place where no one knew her.

A life where she was not used by others, and did not suffer.

The night was almost over.

If dawn broke, they might spot her at a glance.

Even if she felt she would collapse and die from exhaustion, she could not afford to stop.

Then, suddenly, a vibration traveled up from the ground beneath her feet.

A horse was approaching.

A savior who might pull her back from death.

Chloe immediately drew the dagger hidden against her body.

She planned to take the horse and throw silver coins equal to its value in return.

After hiding the blade beneath her cloak, she walked briskly toward the sound of hooves.

It was better to catch her breath than to face whoever approached in her utterly ruined state after running all night.

The horse drew closer.

Layers of darkness peeled away, until the form of the horse finally emerged.

She had expected a labor horse suited to the surrounding wheat fields.

But the horse before her was entirely different.

It was a warhorse with long, powerful legs that looked ready to take flight.

The rider astride it was just as tall and lean as the horse itself.

The moment she saw him, Chloe froze in place.

Her limbs hung limp, only her chest heaving sharply.

Could it be…?

The one person she never wanted to meet again.

The long shadow on horseback was about to pass her indifferently when it suddenly halted.

Eyes wide enough to show the whites, Chloe witnessed every movement of her opponent even in the darkness.

He yanked hard on the reins.

Balancing himself with one hand atop the rearing horse, he reached back with the other and drew a long rifle from behind the saddle.

With practiced ease, he struck the stock sharply against his thigh.

The upper lever snapped free, and the weapon was instantly loaded.

The coldly gleaming muzzle pointed straight at her.

Only then did Chloe realize that her hand, emptied of thought, was protruding from beneath her cloak.

She was holding a blade.

He had judged her an enemy and was preparing to attack.

“Don’t shoot!”

Chloe shouted desperately.

She flung the dagger from her hand at once.

Her face contorted as she squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again.

She clung to a faint hope that her eyes had deceived her.

But the figure that appeared in her cleared vision was exactly the same as before.

Even in the darkness before dawn, his pale features stood out unmistakably.

Hector Montparnasse.

It was him.

The man she could not forget even in her dreams.