Please Kill My Husband - Chapter 11

The mansion was in an uproar from early morning.

There was never a day when Ludmilla, a prominent figure in society, was absent from the morning papers, but it was unprecedented for such disgraceful news to occupy the front page.

Moreover, it was news related to infertility, which was fatal to both the family and the woman.

Upon hearing the news, butler Rudbeck knocked on the door of Ludmilla’s office, where she had been working since morning.

With a light response, the door opened. Inside the office sat Ludmilla, absorbed in her work with an impeccable posture.

“I apologize for the disturbance, Marchioness. But this news has been published in the morning paper.”

Rudbeck approached Ludmilla with steps twice as fast as usual and handed her the newspaper he was holding.

Ludmilla received the newspaper with a calm face. As soon as she checked the front page, the quick-witted butler hastily spoke.

“I will immediately contact the newspaper to remove the article and issue a correction. Also, regarding the responsibility for writing such a dishonorable article without fact-checking…”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“…Pardon?”

Unlike the butler who was speaking fervently, Ludmilla raised her head, giving an instruction so cold it could be perceived as emotionless.

Seeing the butler’s delayed reaction to this unexpected response, Ludmilla slightly raised the corners of her tightly drawn lips.

“It’s alright. There’s no need to take action.”

“But…”

Rudbeck tried to continue speaking with a face full of incomprehension, but he had to close his mouth under the red gaze fixed upon him.

Ludmilla neatly pushed aside the newspaper she was holding.

“Instead, could you please call the mansion’s function manager?”

“Pardon? Ah, yes, certainly.”

Rudbeck reflexively questioned the sudden change of subject before quickly nodding with a look of realization.

After the butler bowed politely and withdrew, silence deepened in the room where Ludmilla was left alone.

Ludmilla’s gaze, which had been staring blankly at the closed door, tilted diagonally.

A smile quietly escaped between her lips as she looked at her own photograph printed in the pushed-aside newspaper.

Where did they get such a photo?

The image of her sitting in a pose befitting a tragic heroine from a play matched the tragic article exceptionally well.

She almost felt the need to thank the newspaper for printing an article that aligned so perfectly with her wishes.

Picking up the newspaper again, Ludmilla scrutinized its contents.

It was densely filled with not only what she had told Beresia yesterday but also news that even Ludmilla herself was hearing for the first time. Rumors were not much different from plagues.

Just as diseases mutate and evolve as they pass through people, rumors are bound to be embellished and exaggerated as they move from mouth to mouth.

In that sense, her attendance at yesterday’s tea party was quite a good move.

Although there was some displeasure at being thrown as fodder for unwelcome gossip, being talked about by others was a common occurrence even without this incident.

If she could avoid a night with Kedilen at this cost, it was a bargain. However…

‘It means I’ll continue to be entangled with that man.’

Ludmilla was concerned about Aden, whom she had been encountering frequently lately.

Although it had only happened twice so far and could still be considered insignificant, Aden’s behavior each time was clearly more than just defending her.

Recalling the day she had turned her back on Aden, not much had changed from the past.

She had merely spoken the words Aden was about to say first.

If that had caught the attention of the barbaric man, there was nothing to say, but she questioned whether it was enough of a trigger to become this entangled.

‘Please kill my husband.’

A voice she had buried in a corner of her memory resurfaced.

For Ludmilla, who had engaged in various conversations with numerous people since stepping into society, the memory of that day wasn’t particularly special.

If there was any meaning to be assigned, it might be that it was the first time she had voluntarily sought help from someone to escape from Kedilen.

Although the method was too extreme to receive Aden’s help, it was at least a moment when she had directly faced her desire to live.

‘Extreme, is it?’

Ludmilla, who had been habitually rubbing her fingers, grasped a pen.

Back then, she had only a vague thought of wanting to live. The final conclusion reached was that Kedilen had to die for this suffering to end.

Kedilen had no intention of letting her go. Moreover, as long as there were people who recognized her wherever she went, she had nowhere to escape to.

That’s why Kedilen’s death was the only way for her to be liberated. That’s why she had sought out Aden.

She knew it was dangerous to expose her weakness to someone she didn’t know well, but it was better to be certain than to fail after a half-hearted assassination attempt.

But Ludmilla lost in this life-or-death gamble. The result was death.

ads

Now, upon careful reflection, Ludmilla realized that she had used her hand too extremely.

If she had chosen a path other than the extreme method…

“Haa-.”

Ludmilla, who had been continuing her thoughts, sighed as she pressed her throbbing forehead with her fingertips. It was all hypothetical.

It was foolish to keep assigning meaning and making assumptions about past events.

What mattered now were the things right in front of her.

As she was drying her face with tired eyes, a knock broke the silence of the room.

She composed her disheveled expression and calmly straightened her back. After a brief response, the door opened.

A middle-aged man with a considerable build entered and bowed.

“I heard you called for me, Marchioness.”

The man who managed the mansion’s functions looked steadily at Ludmilla.

“I’m thinking of renovating and inspecting the mansion’s functions while Kedilen is away.”

“You mean now?”

“Repair reports have been coming in constantly. I ignored them because they were minor, but they’ve already piled up this much. Can you see?”

Ludmilla Perez Erdi, brushing her fingertips over a fairly thick stack of documents, leaned back languidly against the backrest.

“Would it not be troublesome if Kedilen Erdi were to hear of this?”

“That is…”

It was a fact known to all servants and managers that, contrary to external evaluations, Kedilen Erdi had a perfectionist tendency.

He had entirely entrusted internal affairs to the lady of the house, so some laxity was allowed, but the moment that line was crossed, a stern rebuke would fall.

If lucky, it would end with a pay cut, but in severe cases, dismissal, and even further, fines might have to be paid.

The manager hesitated, then nodded with a sigh.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. For now, let’s start with the most noticeable areas. I’ve prepared a list in advance. Please check and report back by the end of today.”

The manager, receiving the list showcasing Ludmilla’s neat handwriting, furrowed his brow.

It’s too much. But unable to voice his complaints, he concluded the conversation with a brief, “Understood.”

As he left and the door closed, Ludmilla rested her chin on her hand.

That day, Kedilen’s eyes, as he looked at her dead form, were filled with deep bewilderment.

If he hadn’t deliberately killed her, then eliminating basic risks was the priority.

Repairing the chandelier in the entrance. Though very simple, the first step was always important.

Two days later. Ludmilla checked Kedilen’s return date marked on the calendar and let out a deep sigh.

Late at night, when the manager said he had an urgent message, Ludmilla nodded as if she had anticipated it.

Changing her clothes and entering the office, she immediately received a report from the manager who was already there.

“Knife marks?”

The manager handed over the inspection report for the entrance chandelier, the most crucial item on Ludmilla’s list.

The massive chandelier had two additional ropes connected to support the main rope in case of unforeseen circumstances.

However, one of these two ropes was cut, and the other showed traces as if slashed with a knife.

Moreover, even the cut one had a smooth surface as if severed at once with a sharp blade.

Ludmilla asked repeatedly as if to confirm, but the manager only reiterated that there was no mistake.

Ludmilla’s mind became clouded with complex thoughts as she read the report.

Was it not a simple coincidence?

Adapted to Manhwa

“Marchioness, this is…”

“Has anyone else seen this report?”

“Pardon?”

“I’m asking if you’ve spoken about this anywhere else.”

Startled by the uncharacteristically forceful question from Ludmilla, the manager quickly shook his head horizontally.

Exhaling, she briefly bit her lip in contemplation before beginning with, “Alright.”

“You’ve done well. For now, let’s keep this between the two of us. I’ll report to Kedilen myself. And please reconnect the rope just in case. Check it daily, and report immediately if it’s cut again.”

“Understood.”

“You may go now.”

As the manager left the room with a bow, the quiet room was dyed with an even deeper silence.

Not a simple coincidence, but an intentional situation.

But what were the chances of this falling on her head at the right time? She had naturally thought it was an accidental death.

Moreover, Kedilen’s bewildered expression she had faced before dying clearly indicated it wasn’t his doing.

“Was I too naive?”

Ludmilla, covering her forehead, realized she was in a more dangerous situation than she had thought. She had believed it was an accidental death.

Gradually, suspicions of murder arose. Someone other than her husband was trying to kill her.

No, it could even be her husband, Kedilen. After all, putting on an appropriate mask at the right time was nothing for Kedilen.

She wanted to investigate further, but Kedilen would soon return.

She had to prepare to face the nightmare again without reaching any concrete conclusions.

Ludmilla’s skin was pale as she faced the moonlight penetrating through the latticed window.

Her lips exhaled a soft sigh.

Kedilen returned when a day and a half had passed, as the noon sun was tilting and a still hazy crescent moon hung in the eastern sky.

Slap-!

As soon as he returned, a harsh sound first filled the room that was just beginning to be tinged with a red hue.

Ludmilla’s body, staggering, collapsed with a thud, unable to maintain balance.

Kedilen, who had roughly struck his wife’s cheek, muttered in a fierce tone.

“How dare you, not knowing your place, make my sister a laughingstock?”

Kedilen’s anger dyed Ludmilla’s innocent cheek red.