After I died, Everything Changed - Chapter 60

It all happened in an instant.

“Urgh…”

The shock from the fall left my head spinning.

Fortunately, the breakfall techniques I’d learned had paid off, I didn’t feel anything broken or seriously injured.

“Are you alright?”

Henry had already dismounted and was by my side, helping me up.

“What on earth just—?”

I looked around in confusion.

Through a haze of thick dust, I saw my horse collapsed on the ground.

“Something exploded from the ground. Like a landmine. But why would one be here…?”

Henry’s face was twisted in frustration.

He’d clearly been caught in the blast as well—his clothes and face were a mess.

“At least it wasn’t powerful enough to do serious damage. Looks like we both got lucky.”

He gave me a quick once-over as he spoke.

Though, judging by the state of his clothing, “lucky” was relative.

“This road was supposed to be secured—off-limits because of the monsters. The only ones who travel through here are people going between the estate and the border…”

I started rattling off everything that came to mind, trying to make sense of what had happened.

And then—suddenly—it clicked.

“…They were targeting me.”

My eyes met Henry’s.

“Where is Lord Abel?” he asked, his tone sharp.

I could guess what he was implying.

But I shook my head.

No. It wasn’t Abel.

If he wanted to kill me, he’d face me with a blade—not hide behind a coward’s trick like this.

“If anyone… it’d be Chloe.”

Could it really be her?

But she still had reasons to keep me alive. Things she needed from me.

As I knelt, I noticed my arm had been scraped in the fall. A thin trail of blood ran through the dust.

“It’s not deep enough to need pressure,” Henry said.

I nodded in agreement.

Then, my eyes went to the horse—collapsed, trembling.

I walked toward it.

“It’s leg is broken.”

I followed Henry’s gaze and looked down.

The horse’s chest rose and fell faintly, but one front leg was bent at a sickening angle beneath it.

My stomach twisted.

The pain in its eyes… felt like it might seep into me.

A broken leg…

The pained, rattling whimpers escaped the horse’s mouth in short gasps. Its eyes met mine.

There was only one thing to do.

A horse with a broken leg couldn’t recover.

Because of their anatomy, horses must sleep standing. They couldn’t stay down long enough for a leg to heal properly.

Even worse, their weight was simply too much. A shattered leg would never support that mass again.

“…”

His name was Jamie. He’d been raised on our estate since the day he was born.

I had fed him milk myself when he was a foal.

This was a cruel moment.

“….”

Henry, watching silently, moved.

He pulled the sword from his belt and held it out to me.

“He’s suffering. You know what needs to be done.”

I did. My mind understood.

Ending it would be the kindest choice.

But knowing something and doing it were two very different things.

I slowly reached out.

But just before my fingers touched the hilt, I withdrew my hand.

Wasn’t there another way?

Someone—somewhere—might be able to save him.

I wasn’t the kind of person to think positively.
And yet here I was, searching for impossible hope.

But in moments like this, sometimes—just for a breath—
the unbearably optimistic version of myself rises to the surface.

Sensing my hesitation, Henry pulled back the sword he’d offered and gripped it tightly in his own hand.

“Wait—!”

I knew exactly what he was about to do.

But it all happened too fast.

Thud.

Blood spattered with a sickening sound, and I turned my head away.

The agonizing whimpers that had hammered in my chest finally stopped.

The horse had passed.

“You carry sentiment on your blade. Just like Deborah.”

“…”

When I looked back, Henry was calmly wiping the blood off his cheek with his sleeve.

He had made a rational decision.

And yet, the fact that he ended it—not me—started to gnaw at me.

No… maybe I was angry at myself.

He sheathed his sword with a clean, practiced motion.

That moment—when Henry, without hesitation, ended the horse’s suffering—stayed etched in my mind.

“You should go back. Find whoever did this to you.”

He smiled, that usual light-hearted smirk playing on his lips again.

He wiped the blood off his cheek with the back of his hand, casual as ever.

Right… this is the real Henry.

The cruel, calculating man I had momentarily forgotten—rushed back into memory like the desert’s coldest night.

With Henry’s help, I made it safely back to the estate.

But as soon as I stepped inside, I noticed something strange.

Servants were running about in a panic.

Something was off.

“What’s going on?”

I stopped one of them in the hall.

“Lady Irene! Something terrible has happened!”

“What is it?”

The servant’s face had gone completely pale.

“The family head—he’s collapsed!”

“…What?”

The words hit me like a thunderclap.

“How? So suddenly?”

“We’re not sure. The physician is with him now—please, come quickly!”

Before he finished speaking, I was already running.

Toward Grandfather’s room.

Grandfather… collapsed?

Just days ago, he had been completely fine.

What could’ve happened?

“What happened?!”

I rushed into the room and straight to his bedside.

I pushed past the gathered retainers with a force I didn’t know I had.

There he was—Grandfather—pale and unmoving.

Skin ashen, veins dark and bulging, lips tinted violet.

I pulled back the blanket covering him and took his hand.

The tips of his fingers were darkened.

“…He’s been poisoned.”

“Poisoned? But the family head said his stomach was upset today. He hasn’t had anything but water.”

One of the household servants stammered, clearly terrified.

“What about yesterday? What did he eat then?”

“There was a banquet last night. All the retainers were present. We monitored everything he ate—nothing seemed off.”

“A banquet…”

Of all times, a banquet yesterday?

“Yes, that’s right. The family head himself hosted it.”

A thick wave of rose-scented perfume reached me.

I turned my head.

“How could something like this happen…? I’m just shocked. Aren’t you?”

Chloe, fanning herself with a black lace fan, furrowed her brow in mock concern.

“You were there?”

“Of course. How could I miss such an important gathering?”

Chloe. The banquet. The poison.

My stomach twisted.

Inside, a wildfire of suspicion began to burn.

Then she leaned in close—so close her breath brushed my ear.

“If you look at me with such obvious suspicion…, won’t I seem terribly wronged?”

Her voice, low and sharp, slid into my ear and vanished.

A shiver crawled down my spine.

As Chloe pulled back, her face—along with the retainers standing nearby—blurred like warped clay, grotesquely distorted.

Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

A sharp pain cracked through my skull.

–It was her! She poisoned him!

–I saw it! I swear I saw it!

–That wicked woman! A root of evil! A monster!

Something foggy and bright flickered before my eyes.

A gray haze lingered in front of my eyes—
and slowly, it began to turn white.

The dizziness intensified.

What… is happening to me?

“Milady!”

“Lady Irene!”

Voices called from somewhere distant, distorted and muffled.

Everything around me blurred and crumbled.

I must’ve collapsed again.

“Milady! You’re awake?”

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my own bed.

“Urgh…”

Pain spiked through my head as I tried to sit up.

“That voice again…”

“Pardon? What voice?”

Karlin rushed to my side to help me up.

“The family head collapsed, and then you fainted too. Do you know how panicked everyone was?”

“How’s Grandfather now?”

“The doctors are rotating in shifts. Thankfully, his condition hasn’t worsened… but he still hasn’t regained consciousness.”

I took the glass of water Karlin offered and sipped it slowly, easing the dryness in my throat.

It was night outside.

“How about the kitchen staff who prepared the banquet yesterday?”

“They’re all being interrogated. Gods, I don’t know what’s going on anymore. The whole estate feels like a funeral.”

My thoughts drifted back to earlier that day.

Grandfather collapsed. The chaos of the retainers. Chloe’s unsettling calmness in the midst of it all… and then— That voice.

The one that had whispered to me—desperate to tell me something.

“The voice said Chloe… I need to look into her. Immediately.”

“Lady Chloe?”

They were trying to tell me something.

That Chloe was the one behind Grandfather’s collapse.

And I didn’t think they were lying.

Whoever—or whatever—those voices were, they’d never steered me into danger. Only ever tried to help me.

“We’re going to Elliot.”

“What? But milady, you’re still weak—!”

Karlin tried to stop me, but I pushed myself up anyway.

There was no time.

I had no idea what Chloe might do next.

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