Please Kill My Husband (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
The door slammed shut with a rough bang, echoing a loud noise.
Kedilen, who had practically dragged Ludmila into the room, swung his arm.
Slap—!
Struck across the cheek by his rough swing, Ludmila collapsed onto the floor without even letting out a single groan.
Her disheveled hair fell over her cheek, now flushed red, as if shielding it.
The beautiful mandarin ducks—the Marquis and Marchioness Erdi—were nowhere to be seen. Only a man violently mistreating his wife like a mere tool and his victim remained.
“I’ve told you repeatedly: Count Edbeck is sensitive about children, so never mention it. Yet you forgot?”
Frowning, Kedilen peeled off his thick overcoat and ripped off his cufflink, hurling it to the floor.
As if that weren’t enough, he loosened his tie and placed his hands on his hips.
“I told you to be careful not to make mistakes!”
At his harshly burst voice, Ludmila’s shoulders flinched slightly. Slowly, her gaze lifted and met Kedilen’s eyes.
“Why won’t you ever listen to me? Is it so hard to just be careful about that one thing? All you need to do is memorize people’s faces, names, personalities, and what not to say, then greet them warmly. That’s all—but you can’t even do that?”
There were 200 attendees at the charity event alone.
Memorizing every participant’s background was already difficult; let alone those who showed up without any prior notice.
It was impossible to remember all their faces and names as well.
“…….”
Ludmila remained silent. She knew this man wouldn’t accept any excuses.
Those gray eyes, filled with madness, never forgave her when she tried to justify herself.
All she needed to do was apologize—say she was sorry—and it would end. But this day was different.
At this point, Ludmila, who normally would’ve bowed her head first and admitted fault as usual, merely stared at Kedilen with unfamiliar eyes.
“Ha—.”
A hollow chuckle gathered on his dry lips and finally burst out.
“Fine, Ludmila. I like that look in your eyes. You’re saying you’ve done nothing wrong, right? Ah, well. Even if it’s only half, you’re claiming noble imperial blood runs through that body of yours?”
Kedilen’s sneering face was far from displeased. Picking up his carelessly discarded overcoat, he walked toward the wardrobe.
Ludmila’s face paled as she watched her husband pull something out from the open wardrobe with dry eyes.
It was a golf club, kept ready for social engagements.
“To someone as noble and refined as you, a man like me losing his temper must be utterly beneath your notice. Yes, it’s all my fault. I failed to properly educate you beforehand. Isn’t that right, Ludmila?”
A feverish glint flickered in his eyes as he spoke.
It was almost euphoric—the look of someone who’d finally gotten to see a long-awaited play.
‘I’m going to die…….’
Considering how each of her husband’s beatings had grown increasingly severe, she wondered if this might be the last.
Terrified, Ludmila staggered to her feet.
“Come here, Ludmila. You need an education. I’ll draw out that blood inside you until you finally understand me.”
Backing away from his half-mad eyes, Ludmila reached for the closed door and opened it.
“Stop right there, Ludmila!”
The sharp whistle splitting the air from behind sent a chill down her spine.
She fled the room and ran like a madwoman. A shrill, high-pitched cry chased after her—she just wanted to live.
Driven by that fundamental instinct shared by all living beings, Ludmila collided with a servant walking toward her from the opposite end of the corridor.
“Ah—! M-Marchioness! Are you all right!?”
The servant, fallen on the floor, stared at Ludmila with a pale face.
Sitting collapsed on the ground, she averted her eyes from the servant looking up at her and slowly surveyed her surroundings.
The staff cast surprised glances toward her.
Running down the corridor was far removed from the usual decorum and poise expected of Ludmila.
Everyone peered curiously, wondering what had happened—and among them stood Kedilen, staring right at her.
The euphoric, lively eyes were gone; now they stared back at her dryly, like those of a dead doll.
Amidst the chaotic silence, the moment confusion flickered in Kedilen’s eyes—
“Kyaaaah—!”
A piercing scream rang out—followed immediately by the sound of something snapping. Ludmila looked up just in time to see the chandelier falling toward her.
[This is the timeline separator]“What are you spacing out about? Didn’t you hear me?”
An irritated, grating voice pierced into her ears.
Snapped out of her thoughts, Ludmila bit her lip as she looked at Kedilen, who frowned as he stared at her.
“I asked if you’re done yet.”
“Oh, almost.”
“You’re still slow. Wrap it up.”
Though the sharply pointed question seemed aimed not at the designer but at Ludmila, the designer misunderstood and spoke first.
Kedilen, seemingly discontent with the situation, gave a slight frown and a curt nod before turning and leaving the room.
As the door shut as dryly as his voice, the designer—who had been touching Ludmila’s hair—let out a stiff sigh.
“My, every time I feel it—he’s like an ice sculpture… Eep!”
Having relaxed slightly, the designer unconsciously continued speaking before hastily covering his mouth with wide, rabbit-like eyes.
“I—I, Marchioness, I…”
“It’s all right.”
The designer anxiously flicked his eyes toward Ludmila, his panicked face carefully choosing his next words—but all he got in return was a faint, slight upward curve of Ludmila’s lips.
“It’s not even wrong. Everyone at the mansion knows the Marquis is different inside and out.”
“But…”
“Let’s finish up quickly. If we’re any later, you might get in serious trouble.”
“Y-yes, of course!”
At her calm reply, the designer exhaled deeply and hurriedly resumed his work.
Ludmila, her lips drawn into a flat, emotionless line like a doll’s, gazed at her reflection in the mirror and closed her eyes.
[This is the timeline separator]He really was a man whose inside and outside were utterly different—even if it felt redundant to say so now.
As they approached the main entrance of the ballroom, where the retirement celebration was in full swing, Kedilen turned from the crowd he’d been conversing with and greeted Ludmila with an affectionate smile.
“Have you arrived, my dear?”
The cold man who had leaned against the door and spoken harshly was gone. In his place was Kedilen, the devoted husband awaiting his exalted wife, who now leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“I nearly came looking for you—I missed you so.”
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“No, not at all.”
Kedilen gave a brief shake of his head and turned, gently guiding her toward the stout elderly man he’d been speaking with moments earlier.
The elder gentleman, wearing a formal bowler hat that seemed out of place at a ball, courteously removed it and offered a warm smile.
“This is my first time meeting you in person, Marchioness Erdi. It’s an honor to meet the noblewoman idolized by high society.”
“The honor is mine, to meet the legendary hero who defended the infamous northern front.”
“Haha—those are all things of the past.”
“No, General. Your achievements in the Cavalt civil war and the Santrea battlegrounds will one day be compared to those of Grand General Curas himself.”
“Is that so? Hah—when a young person says it like that, it almost feels true! Haha!”
Laughter flowed like water. Once it began, it rippled outward, echoing in every corner.
Ludmila, too, mechanically lifted the corners of her lips in a practiced, insincere smile, riding the tide.
“Well then, shall we go in? Enjoy yourselves, Marquis Erdi—and Marchioness as well.”
“Thank you for your kind consideration.”
Maintaining perfect gentlemanly decorum until the very end, Kedilen bowed slightly and stepped inside.
As expected, their entrance naturally drew considerable attention.
After all, they were indisputably the couple generating the most gossip in the empire.
Their clothing set trends, and their affectionate gestures toward each other became the new standard for romantic expression.
Those unaware of the truth beyond the veil admired them as a beautiful pair, revered them at times, and hurriedly approached just for the chance to exchange a word.
Instantly at the heart of the ballroom, they exchanged greetings as social elites.
Throughout the entire evening, not once did either of them let their smiles falter—not even for a moment—as if wearing masks.
The long social performance took a suitable pause around the time of the general’s retirement speech.
‘This was about the time.’
Remembering how Kedilen had dragged her out to the terrace during General Cedric’s speech, Ludmila lifted her head—
“Let’s step outside for a breath of fresh air, my dear.”
Kedilen’s gentle voice sounded beside her. Of course—it hadn’t changed at all.
Following Kedilen, who guided her with the exact same timing and words as before, Ludmila moved toward the terrace.
The moment they stepped out onto the deserted terrace and closed the door, Kedilen turned with a menacing scowl.
“Can’t you do it just a little better?”
Ludmila exhaled sharply at his ever-shifting expression, as if swapping between two masks.
Indeed, this hadn’t changed either.
“Didn’t I tell you before? Smile more warmly and emphasize to them that you’re close friends. That’s exactly why I spent so much money gathering and memorizing all that information about them. Don’t tell me you forgot?”
What a man—to demand his wife do the work of an aide. Consistent as ever.
Seeing the same unchanging behavior even after her return, Ludmila felt nothing new.
Though over a month separated her death from this ball in actual time, to Ludmila herself, the gap between her death and now felt like barely half a day.
She recalled Kedilen’s dry eyes staring at her.
And simultaneously, those euphoric eyes as he’d advanced toward her, gripping the golf club.
“Yes, I forgot.”
At that moment, Ludmila’s mouth—which should have stayed firmly shut—opened.
For the first time, instead of hiding beneath the shadow of her lowered head, Ludmila looked straight into Kedilen’s eyes.
“But what are you going to do about it?”
For the first time, a spark of life appeared atop her dry, hollow eyes.
“Are you going to hit me right here?”
She wanted nothing more than to tear off that flawless, smiling mask.
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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