IWMHWD 73

Chapter 73 – Husband’s Funeral
January 12, 2024

Dennis raked his hand roughly through his hair, sitting down and standing up repeatedly. His blatant behavior didn’t even disappoint Cordelia anymore. The sudden truth that had burst out made her press her temples.

“What were you thinking when you took that money? You knew what it meant and still didn’t even tell Dad it was shameful?”

“What was I supposed to say? He was the one who offered it first.”

“Even so, am I really your family? How could you accept money on the condition that you wouldn’t see me? And with that shameless money, you stay at an inn that’s clearly above your means!”

Had there been anything in her hand, she would’ve thrown it right at him. The more she spoke, the more her insides burned. It felt like her organs were turning to ash.

“And you let Maximilian go and now you want Atillay’s forgiveness? How can a person be so shameless?”

“Shameless? Do you even consider us family? I didn’t even know you became a mage until you came to the capital! You ditched Dad and me without a word!”

“Dad did that first! …Fine. Whatever.”

Raising her voice in anger, Cordelia eventually forced herself to calm down. Her hands trembled as she barely steadied them.

“I should have looked after you both, but I didn’t. I’m sorry. From now on, I’ll take care of you and Dad. So stop taking money from Atillay and Master.”

She wasn’t truly sorry—she just wanted to end this relationship as quickly as possible.

“Take care of us? Can you even afford to do that? How much?”

“…How much do you need?”

“At the very least, as much as I’m getting now.”

Dennis spoke brazenly.

“How much are you getting now?”

“Fifty thousand Linkit.”

“What? You’ve been getting fifty thousand Linkit from Master?”

“Every month. Can you pay me that much every month?”

Not just once—every month. That meant six hundred thousand Linkit a year. Their father had sold Cordelia off to that hellish Abrams for five hundred thousand Linkit.

She was speechless at her father’s excellent business acumen—having sold his daughter twice.

As Cordelia fell silent at the staggering amount, Dennis continued, as if he had expected that response.

“You can’t, right? So just drop it. Don’t stir things up.”

“…”

“By the way, did you explain things to the Elector Atillay?”

“…”

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t tell me you didn’t say a word? I’m getting interrogated in two days. If I don’t explain things properly, I might even end up in jail—Noona!”

Cordelia suddenly stood up and left the room. She didn’t trust herself to keep it together if she kept listening—especially if even more hidden truths came out.

Dennis ran out after her and grabbed her wrist.

“You’re just going to leave like that? At least answer me.”

“What answer do you want? You chose to take Atillay’s money in exchange for not seeing me.”

“So what? You think I’m a joke because I smiled and played nice? So did you tell him or not?”

“Ha…”

“If I go to jail, what happens to the Vasquez family? Who’s going to continue the Vasquez name?”

Even though they were in a hallway where anyone could pass by, Dennis didn’t lower his voice. Instead, he shook her arm even more aggressively.

Cordelia looked at her brother with scorn.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me about the Vasquez name. Handle it yourself. You and Dad don’t even see me as part of that family.”

“If you hate it so much, then you should be the one to pay! You didn’t send a single coin after marrying into Abrams, and now you act all righteous? Dad probably had no choice but to take the money!”

“Fine. Then we’re done. Take the money and consider our relationship over. I don’t care if you rot in jail!”

She screamed with all the sincerity she could muster. A violent wave of emotion hit her like a tidal wave. It felt like she was staring down beasts wearing the mask of family.

What was she to them, really?

Dennis’s face turned red and pale in turns. Then he raised the hand that had grabbed her wrist.

Cordelia instinctively cast a defensive spell. As soon as his hand touched her cheek, Dennis was flung backward with a loud thud.

At last, her master’s teachings had proven useful.

“Urgh!”

“Let’s never see each other again.”

Cordelia glared at her collapsed brother and left the inn.

The carriage she had taken from Atillay was waiting in front. The coachman quickly opened the door as she emerged.

“Where shall we go?”

“Home—no, let’s go back to Atillay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Cordelia closed her eyes. Her head ached like it was about to split. The truth had come down without warning and now squeezed the breath out of her.

What exactly was she to her father? Was she even his daughter? How could he think to take money in exchange for not seeing her?

She couldn’t understand him. She didn’t want to.

More than the anger, the despair of being discarded was far worse.

She’d always known, deep down, that her father saw her as little more than a source of profit—but she used to comfort herself with the thought that she was still his only daughter.

Even after the carriage stopped, she didn’t move. When the door remained closed for a long time, a servant knocked anxiously from outside.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

Only then did Cordelia realize they had arrived. She opened the carriage door.

“Has Master returned yet?”

“No, he’s gone to the palace. Shall I send for him if it’s urgent?”

“No, it’s fine.”

Even walking took effort. She’d only taken a few steps before a wave of nausea overtook her and she ran to the bathroom.

The thin broth she’d eaten that morning came up, followed by clear stomach acid.

Layla was waiting outside and fretted as Cordelia emerged pale-faced.

“Lady Cordelia! What’s wrong? Are you ill? Should I summon a physician?”

“No. I just want to be alone.”

She half-crawled onto her bed and pulled the blanket over her head. The pillowcase quickly grew damp.

She didn’t even know why she was crying.

She thought she had no expectations of her family anymore—but maybe a sliver of hope still lingered.

Her tears kept flowing like a stream. Her chest hurt as if someone were wringing her heart with their bare hands.

Even when she’d been sold to Abrams, it hadn’t been this bad. Back then, she had always known marriage would be decided by her father anyway—painful, yes, but not something she couldn’t accept.

But this—this made it clear that to her father, money was the only thing that mattered.

After enough time passed for the tears on her cheeks to dry and stick, someone opened the door and came in.

The footsteps came closer.

Part of her didn’t want to see who it was. Another part did.

“Where did you go today?”

“…”

“I told you to behave until we head back to Abrams.”

“…”

“Take the blanket off. Let me see how ugly you look today.”

“…”

“Cordelia.”

Leonard didn’t try to force the blanket off her. He merely sighed and spoke her name softly.

Cordelia didn’t have the courage to face him, so she answered from under the covers.

“D—Did you give my father money so he wouldn’t see me?”

“So you met with the Elector of Vasquez?”

“Fifty thousand Linkit a month is a huge sum. You must’ve spent a lot, Master.”

“If not the Elector, then your brother?”

“Is it that important who told me?”

It felt like he was dodging the question, so she threw off the blanket. His face was closer than expected—right in front of her were Leonard’s violet eyes.

“Finally showing me your face.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because I could see you being dragged around by your father. If he’s not near you, he can’t control you.”

His voice was calm and cold, without a trace of guilt—like someone who had simply done what had to be done.

She had expected at least some remorse for going behind her back. But there was none.

Cordelia’s voice grew louder.

“If you didn’t want me to see him, you could have just told me. Did it have to be money? Do you even know how humiliated I felt when I heard that?”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”

“…What?”

“Your father—the Elector of Vasquez—is that kind of man. He handed over his daughter without hesitation for a few coins. At least now you know.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful. Thanks for proving I mean nothing to my father.”

Cordelia scoffed at Leonard’s reply. He didn’t seem to care how she felt upon learning the truth.

“Don’t be sarcastic. I did it all for you.”

Leonard’s voice dropped low, like he was suppressing anger. Cordelia threw the blanket aside and sat up straight.

“Hah. For me? If it were really for me, you would’ve asked me first.”

“If I had, your answer would’ve been obvious. You would’ve hesitated and let it slide. You never even told me your father hit you until I asked.”

“Why would I tell you about that? Should I have said he beat me with his belt because he didn’t like my eyes? Or that he slapped me every time I talked back?”

That abuse was her most shameful secret—the part she wanted no one to ever know.

She didn’t want to dredge up such a wretched past to a man who already knew what she’d suffered in Abrams.