How To Escape From A Devilish Husband (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
Delphine glared at the man dimly visible beyond her veil and whispered faintly, shaping the words with her lips.
“Who… who are you, really…?”
To her astonishment, one corner of the man’s red lips curled upward.
Startled, she widened her eyes—but as if nothing had happened, the man immediately turned his gaze back to the nobles surrounding him.
Surely he couldn’t have read her lips—from this distance, and through the veil?
“No, I must just be overly sensitive.”
Given everything that had happened to her lately, such paranoia wasn’t entirely unreasonable.
Just two days prior, hadn’t she watched her father’s head severed right before her eyes?
The memory of that scene crashed over her like a wave, making her fingertips tremble and her eyes burn hot.
Delphine bit down hard on her lower lip, holding back the tears threatening to fall.
I am Delphine Pembroke.
The sole heir of the honorable Pembroke family.
Therefore, Delphine Pembroke must not—could not—shed tears before others, even if hidden beneath a veil.
[This is the timeline separator]After the wedding ceremony, Delphine headed to Pembroke Mansion—no, the place that was now Pride Mansion.
The moment she stepped out of the carriage,
Delphine’s face turned as pale as her wedding dress.
Memories of that day—splashing through pools of blood, searching desperately for survivors—flooded back, overwhelming her like a tidal wave.
“Ugh….”
“Please go inside at once.”
The imperial messenger urged her brusquely, as she stood frozen, her fingers trembling violently.
His manner was closer to that of a guard escorting a criminal than a bride.
Delphine crossed the mansion’s threshold with unsteady, precarious steps.
But the moment she finally entered the grand hall, her entire body stiffened once again, forcing her to halt completely.
The mansion—once a sea of blood—had perfectly returned to its original state in just three short days.
The carpets, soaked in blood and seemingly beyond repair, the antique furniture,
even the chandelier on the ceiling splattered with her father’s blood—
everything was exactly as it had been before.
As if it had all been a dream.
Still wearing her wedding dress, Delphine stood alone in the hall and murmured desolately,
“A dream…? Yes, perhaps everything I saw was merely a dream.”
Maybe she had mistaken a terrible nightmare for reality.
Or perhaps she was still trapped within that dream.
With a bitter laugh twisting her lips, the imperial messenger led her firmly toward her bridal chamber.
“My lord Pride will arrive shortly.”
With those words, he closed the door and left the room.
She heard no footsteps receding down the corridor.
It was obvious why he remained standing guard outside the door.
Noble betrothals weren’t considered valid until the wedding night was consummated.
Did that mean this doll-faced messenger would serve as witness to her and that man sharing a bed?
When the man entered, he’d stand beside the canopy bed as witness to their sacred union—and come morning, he’d carry away the white sheets stained with blood.
Still in her wedding dress, Delphine sank heavily onto the bed.
The bridal veil felt as heavy as an iron crown.
Roughly tearing the veil from her hair, she hurled it forcefully into the corner.
Ioan.
“Are you… happy, Miss?”
The slave boy who once looked up at her like a dog, and the nobleman who moved gracefully among aristocrats.
Same brown eyes. Same-colored hair. Same name.
…But were they truly the same person?
And then there was her father—ever loyal to the imperial court—suddenly accused of rebellion? Nothing made sense.
“I need to… think, to think clearly…”
She struggled to focus, but her mind felt shrouded in fog.
Her whole body, especially her hands, had been trembling like an aspen leaf since earlier.
As she anxiously clutched the bedsheet, straining to piece together her thoughts, the door to the bridal chamber suddenly creaked open.
“…My lady.”
It was him—the man with Ioan’s face.
My lady?
Shocked by the title he used to address her, Delphine finally examined his appearance up close for the first time.
Dirty blond hair streaked with brown, pale brown eyes,
unnaturally fair skin,
a face that, with its faint pigmentation, seemed damp and strangely alluring.
…He was a beautiful man.
So strikingly handsome that she noticed it even in this dreadful situation.
Delphine found herself transfixed, staring at his face.
It closely resembled that strangely beautiful slave boy she remembered—
yet standing before her now was a fully grown man, his large, solid frame neatly clad in a white uniform, which somehow felt oddly different from her memories.
Hesitantly, Delphine carefully opened her mouth.
“…Ioan?”
The man clicked the door shut firmly and walked toward her.
“Oh? Already calling me by name, my lady? Or rather…”
His red lips curved into a soft line.
“Delphine?”
He murmured her name in a low voice, then closed his eyes briefly,
as if deeply moved just by speaking it.
“Delphine… that you are my wife.”
Alarmed by his suddenly deep, ominous tone, Delphine lifted her head sharply.
The man slowly began unbuttoning his uniform, stepping closer to her.
The thud of his jacket hitting the floor echoed like her own heart plummeting.
Was she really going to consummate the marriage tonight?
With the very man who had cut off her father’s head just three days ago?
For a fleeting moment, she was awed by his devilishly beautiful appearance—then suddenly, nausea surged violently in her throat.
Desperately, Delphine cried out, voice urgent and strained,
“Ioan? Ioan, it’s really you, isn’t it?”
In contrast, the man remained perfectly composed, replying gently,
“My name is indeed Ioan, my lady.”
“You know what I mean! Why pretend you don’t recognize your master?”
“Master? …Ah. I had no idea you favored that sort of roleplay. Of course, I’ll gladly oblige, my lady.”
He answered smoothly as he loosened his tie.
Though his eyes burned with thick, dangerous desire, his demeanor remained calm and polished.
His large, solid frame now stood directly before her.
Delphine felt utterly powerless, as if facing an immense wall.
“No, what I meant was…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence.
His thick fingers slowly traced her bitten lips, then slipped inside, probing deeply.
His other large hand gently stroked the nape of her neck.
Delphine panted, overwhelmed by frantic tension and anxiety.
Ioan—*her* Ioan—would never have dared do such a thing to her.
That slave boy hadn’t even dared meet her eyes directly.
‘Who is this man? I don’t know him.’
Did that mean he truly was someone else—despite sharing Ioan’s face, name, and even surname?
…Could they be twins?
Even if so, his birth would still be lowly.
The Empire never granted noble titles to former slaves, no matter how extraordinary their feats.
Staring at him with trembling eyes brimming with confusion, she saw his brown irises flare as though ignited by fire.
His large hand gripping her face tightened further.
Though his touch was as delicate as stroking a feather, it felt strangely rough and firm—
utterly unlike the hands of nobles, who rarely touched anything beyond ornamental jeweled swords.
Could this truly be the hand of a nobleman?
Desperately, Delphine tried to recall the feel of Ioan’s hand from three years ago.
What had it been like?
“What are you thinking about, my lady?”
Had he sensed she was comparing him to someone else?
At his dangerously low tone, Delphine flinched.
Instantly, she remembered the blood geysering from her father’s neck all the way up to the chandelier.
The original Ioan—the slave boy—would never have treated his mistress like this.
But if this man truly *wasn’t* Ioan… then what?
What reason would stop him from cutting her throat too, after so easily killing her father?
He was the Empire’s hero, the Emperor’s closest confidant—and she was merely a noblewoman from a fallen, traitorous house.
Yet it was hard to believe two people could look so identical.
Moreover, something about his manner felt subtly… unnatural.
As if someone not noble wore a noble’s mask.
Or as if something not human wore a human guise…
Biting down hard on her lower lip, Delphine glared straight at him and spat out,
“…I was just wondering if this was why you rushed the marriage.”
To mask her own flinch, Delphine deliberately stared him down as she murmured,
“You didn’t seek a wife—but a whore to satisfy your lust each night.”
Like your mother?
She’d heard Ioan was sold cheaply to Pembroke Mansion by his mother, a prostitute from District Three.
Of all his many insecurities, the boy had been most sensitive about mentions of his mother.
Once, during a quarrel, a servant had referenced her—and Ioan beat him so savagely the man spent ten days locked in the storeroom, starving.
Though she hadn’t spoken the last part aloud, the man clearly understood her implication.
His gentle brown eyes instantly ignited like dry firewood catching flame.
But only for a moment.
Soon, his gaze grew colder than extinguished embers—icy and sharp.
His lips curved into a predatory smile.
The man pressed his large, heat-radiating body close against her, still clad in her wedding dress.
In that instant, Delphine felt what little courage she’d gathered crumble to dust.
Despite his calm, elegant expression, he was terrifyingly aroused.
Thanks to her governess’s bridal lessons, Delphine recognized this immediately.
The man looked down at her pale face from mere inches away, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
“Do you wish to annul this marriage?”
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
_____
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