Wishing My Husband Dead (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 14

“First, I need to reclaim my body. I can’t stay trapped in this wretched shell forever.”

“Is soul transference magic even possible with your current body?”

“Not sure. We’ll have to try it until we’ve exhausted every option.”

For the first time, Leonard, who had always exuded confidence, trailed off uncertainly.

Truthfully, the soul transference magic he’d cast just before death succeeding at all was nothing short of a miracle. The real question was whether such an extraordinary miracle could possibly happen twice in a row.

Fully aware of this, Baron spoke with a worried expression.

“My lord, even if we gathered every mana crystal in Erche, it still wouldn’t be enough to cast high-tier magic in your current state.”

“There’s Lancel’s final flower in the laboratory. Also, the Saintess’s Tears and the Crimson Wyrm’s Breath. If we use them wisely…”

Everything Leonard mentioned was a legendary, priceless holy artifact—each so valuable it was impossible to put a price on.

But Baron shook his head slowly.

“No holy relic can compare to your original magical power, my lord. Besides, your current body couldn’t possibly contain that immense power.”

“So what? Should I just give up and rot away in this backwater? Watch that bastard Maximilian inherit Atirai with my own eyes wide open?”

Leonard glared at Baron, eyes wide with anger. The old man blinked quietly before speaking again.

“What if we use Lady Cordelia?”

“…What?”

“If we pour all three holy relics and my own magical power into Lady Cordelia, it should be enough to roughly perform the soul transference spell.”

“You mean using her as a medium.”

There are two ways to execute a spell: one is for the mage to cast it directly, and the other is to realize the magic through a medium.

Leonard stared silently out the window.

The sun was setting. He could see Cordelia walking slowly down the crimson-hued corridor.

“As you know, I’m far too old to accept holy artifacts. Your current body is unsuitable for containing magical power. But Lady Cordelia is different—she’s young, brimming with talent, and possesses the ideal vessel to receive such power.”

“…”

“Of course, afterward, the medium would be left incapable of holding any magical power ever again. But if we guarantee her a lifetime of golden comfort, I’m sure Lady Cordelia would agree.”

“Earlier you were awestruck, calling her a future Archmage, and now you suggest stealing her magic?”

Baron responded with an unexpectedly gentle smile and gave a respectful bow.

“Nothing in this world means as much to me as your well-being, my lord—not even the birth of a future Archmage.”

[This is the timeline separator]

By the time Cordelia returned to her bedroom, the sun had already fully set.

Exhausted, she pushed the door open, and three maids hurried over to greet her.

“You’re back, young mistress.”

“Huh? Who are you?”

“My name is Rachel.”

“I’m Mary.”

Two unfamiliar maids knelt and bowed. Emily, standing behind them, added brightly,

“The head maid summoned me today and said it must be hard for me to serve you alone, so she assigned these two to help.”

This was strange. The head maid had always kept Cordelia at arm’s length to avoid upsetting Helena.

That’s why only Emily had been assigned to attend her—so why send two extra maids now?

Before Cordelia could ponder this further, one of the new maids cheerfully helped her change clothes. As she removed her outerwear, something dropped with a soft thud.

“Oh! A letter fell out, young mistress.”

Rachel picked up the crumpled letter and handed it to her.

Cordelia instinctively sighed. She hesitated as if receiving something filthy, then finally tore open the envelope.

[Denis lacks funds for his academy enrollment. Send 100,000 lingkits as soon as possible. Time is urgent—do not delay. I married you off to such a fine house; as a daughter, this is the least you owe me.]

The message was the same as always—another demand for money.

She was sick of it.

At first, she’d replied, explaining she wasn’t in a position here to send money.

Each time, her father flew into a rage, accusing her of ignoring him.

So eventually, she simply stopped responding to letters from Vasquez. Ignoring them was far easier on her conscience.

“Just burn this for me.”

“Yes, young mistress.”

Rachel took the letter without protest, then asked with a bright smile,

“What about dinner? Shall I have it brought to your room? It’s late—perhaps something light?”

“Or would you prefer a bath first? I’ve already had the water heated.”

“Um… uh…”

They were being so overly kind it made her uncomfortable. Cordelia finally dismissed the two newcomers and entered the bath with Emily.

“Were they always this friendly?”

“Hehe—well, news has spread all over the manor that you’ve been spending whole days in the Earl’s chambers lately.”

“Huh?”

“And not only that, he hasn’t called back those vulgar courtesans either.”

Emily smiled softly as she poured warm water over Cordelia’s shoulders.

Only then did Cordelia realize why everyone in the manor had suddenly become unusually, almost obsequiously, kind to her.

“The Earl must have finally recognized your devoted care. After all, ever since he fell ill, you’ve prayed by his side every day for his recovery.”

“Hmm… I suppose so.”

In truth, her prayers had been begging for his death—but she couldn’t say that aloud, so Cordelia simply smiled.

“Especially after that day—the day you and the Countess had that argument.”

Even though they were alone in the bath, Emily lowered her voice to a whisper.

“With so many eyes watching, the rumor spread instantly. The kitchen staff were openly saying it’s high time the Countess retreated to the back quarters.”

Clearly enjoying Helena’s downfall, Emily spoke with glee.

Cordelia had been too preoccupied with magic lessons to notice, but now she realized she hadn’t seen Helena since that day.

‘Well, after such humiliation, it’d be hard to show her face around here casually.’

If it were truly Craig siding with Cordelia and pushing Helena aside, her life might have become easier. But it was Leonard possessing his body—and he might leave at any moment.

Her mind grew tangled with thoughts.

Cordelia sank her head fully into the tub. The water had cooled to a tolerable temperature.

“Shall I wash your hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, by the way—I found the people you asked me to look into. Both of them.”

“Oh? Who are they?”

“One has red hair and a slightly upturned nose, the other has black hair, black eyes, and a mole on her neck. What were their names again…”

As Emily relayed the details, Cordelia tried to clear her troubled mind.

Later, seated at her desk solving a mountain of formulaic problems, her distracting thoughts gradually faded away.

Though she often complained to Leonard about how difficult it all was, she actually enjoyed learning magic.

The more she learned, the more she felt like she was becoming someone even slightly useful—and that made her happy.

“Young mistress, it’s already midnight.”

“Oh, really? That late?”

“You haven’t even eaten. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, really. I’ll just finish this last bit and go to sleep.”

Cordelia waved her hand dismissively with a smile. In the end, she didn’t fall asleep until the deepest hours of the night.

Morning arrived, but opening her eyes felt nearly impossible. Even after splashing cold water on her face, her eyes remained half-closed.

Still dozing off, she changed clothes when one of yesterday’s new maids quietly approached.

“Um, young mistress?”

“Yes? *Yaaawn.*”

“The Countess sent word that she’d like you to join her for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

They rarely even shared tea, so this sudden invitation was baffling.

She knew exactly what Helena would say if she went—but she couldn’t outright ignore the Countess’s summons.

“Could you tell Craig I’ll be a bit late?”

“Yes, young mistress.”

To avoid giving any cause for criticism, she changed into a neatly pressed outfit before heading out.

When she arrived at the dining hall, not only Helena but also Arnold, Lily, and Baron Lancaster were seated at the table.

An uncommon gathering.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Countess.”

“Nonsense, not at all. Come, sit down quickly.”

Cordelia reflexively apologized, but Helena responded with a warm smile and gestured to the seat in front. Seeing that smile sent a chill of unease through Cordelia.

“Good morning, Countess.”

Neither Lily nor Arnold even glanced her way; only Baron Lancaster rose to greet her.

“I never properly thanked you for taking sole charge of Craig’s bedside care.”

“Huh? Oh—no, it’s nothing. It’s just my duty.”

“What in the world is truly ‘just duty’?”

Hearing Helena speak so reasonably only made Cordelia more suspicious.

Was it because Baron Lancaster was present?

Slightly flustered, Cordelia could only offer an awkward smile instead of a proper reply.

“Oh dear, the food’s getting cold. Eat up quickly.”

“Yes.”

A servant brought out tomato soup. Cordelia silently lifted a spoonful and ate.

Helena, still wearing a faint smile, asked,

“So—anything troubling you these days?”

“With the Countess always looking out for me, how could I possibly lack anything?”

“Hehe. Compared to your destitute family home, this place might as well be heaven.”

Cordelia’s lips tightened slightly, but she forced her expression back to calm neutrality.

“By the way, have you been exchanging letters with your father lately?”

“No, I haven’t contacted him.”

“How can someone lie so naturally and shamelessly?”

“I suppose it’s just in my blood, Mother.”

Lily openly mocked Cordelia. The sudden shift in tone left Cordelia bewildered.

“…Pardon? What do you mean?”

“Are you really asking because you don’t understand? Or are you feigning ignorance? Have you already forgotten that Archduke Vasquez ordered you to steal?”

Cordelia had no idea what Helena was talking about.

Then Helena pulled something from her sleeve and began reading aloud:

“‘Denis lacks funds for his academy enrollment. Send 100,000 lingkits as soon as possible. Time is urgent—do not delay.’ Honestly, it’s outrageous.”

“Clearly, inviting that beggar into our home was a mistake. 100,000 lingkits? She’s brazenly committing theft!”

Lily pointed directly at Cordelia, her voice thick with unmistakable contempt.

“Countess!”

Unable to endure the insult any longer, Cordelia cried out.

The letter Helena had just read aloud in front of everyone was the one she’d received from her father yesterday.

She’d clearly told her maid to burn it—so Helena must have bribed the maid to get her hands on it.