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Chapter 29: Father
Last Updated:
2024-12-10 09:29:37
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Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 299: The Harm Already Done
On the other hand, Marcellus frequented the secret chamber with increasing intensity, each visit consumed by an almost obsessive focus. He would approach the two faintly glowing handles, letting his fingers trace over the smooth metal, as if every touch could awaken some hidden memory. Each time, he felt a familiar pulse, a subtle call that seemed to respond to him, hinting at the location of the missing fragments. Somewhere in the shadowed corners of the chamber, a clue seemed to lie in wait—he could almost sense the fragments’ presence, and every time his chest tightened with urgency.Yet merely tracing the handles no longer sufficed. He began to feel, instinctively, that only his own blood could truly activate the fragments, coaxing them into a more complete form. Thoughts of cutting himself, letting his lifeblood flow over the metal, even began to surface.But reason had not entirely abandoned him. He restrained himself, suppressing the madness. Deep within, he knew he had not ful
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 298: A Completely Different Marcellus
It was a sense of duty stronger than any family honor, stronger than any personal desire.It rose from the deepest part of his soul, like an order decreed by fate itself—utterly irresistible.Marcellus slowly withdrew his hands. In his eyes flickered a shadowy, unreadable light, as though what he had just touched was not a cold sacred relic, but an invisible flame burning secretly within his veins.——From that night on, Marcellus began to change.He grew increasingly silent, withdrawn. More and more often, he would steal away alone to the secret chamber. In the past, he used to stroll down the family’s corridors with the lighthearted ease of a young lord in spring. But now, his steps carried a muted urgency, a suppressed agitation that could not be hidden. Often, before twilight had even fully deepened, he would already be shut inside that chamber, lingering there until the late hours, returning drenched in sweat and exhaustion.Sometimes, in the middle of a banquet, he would suddenl
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 297: Dream or Reality?
“My love… what’s wrong?”Livia stirred in her sleep, unease tugging at her heart. She felt Marcellus’s hand tighten unconsciously around her wrist—cold, stiff, trembling with some invisible strain. In the pale wash of moonlight, his face twisted into a faint grimace, yet his lips curved with an eerie trace of satisfaction, as though he were trapped in a dream that mingled both ecstasy and torment.A chill ran through her veins. Fear struck her, sharp and cold. She reached out and shook him.“Marcellus! Wake up!”He jerked awake, his chest heaving, beads of sweat shining on his forehead. His eyes darted about before finally focusing on her face.“It’s nothing,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice soft yet weary, wrapping his arms tightly around her trembling shoulders. “Just a nightmare… You don’t have to worry.”His fingers threaded gently through her hair, smoothing it back from her damp brow. He pressed a kiss there, lingering, then trailed lower—along the bridge of her nose, her cheek
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 296: The First Glimpse of the Grail
It was an ordinary night, the kind that carried a storm’s breath before its arrival. The air was heavy with dampness, thick with the weight of rain yet to fall. Marcellus was conducting his usual rounds within the family’s vault—a chamber that housed the treasures and secrets accumulated across generations. Jeweled swords, dust-laden tomes, crowns forged of ancient weight… every relic radiated the splendor and legacy of his bloodline.And yet, when he reached the furthest corner of the chamber—an alcove nearly swallowed by shadow—his eyes were suddenly caught by a shimmer unlike any other.It was a pair of metal objects, shaped like the handles of a cup, lying solitary upon a stone pedestal. Their surfaces glimmered faintly with a golden sheen, and under the flicker of torchlight, it seemed as though unseen currents stirred within them.Marcellus froze. He was certain he had visited this section countless times, and never once had he seen them there. Doubt coiled in his chest—had he o
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 295: Marcellus’s Memories (Part I)
“These fragments of memory… I truly hadn’t recalled them before. It feels as though something had sealed them away from me.” Marcellus’s voice was low, threaded with strain. His brows furrowed tightly, and his fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm against the table—as though the sound itself could pry open the locked chamber of his mind. “But lately, they’ve begun to resurface. Perhaps it is because we’ve gathered more shards… their resonance is stirring something within me. Or perhaps,” his gaze grew distant, heavy, “the Grail itself longs to be restored.”Alia watched him intently. The sharp irony that had colored her eyes moments ago slowly receded. Her vigilance remained, but deep down, she sensed that his words were not a fabrication. The Grail’s strangeness was something she knew too well. She merely inclined her head, faint and measured, withholding further scorn.The room fell into a thick, weighted silence. Candlelight trembled at the draft, stretching their shadows long and thin
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 294: How Much More Have You Kept from Me?
Before Marcellus could say anything further, Alia drew a slow breath, her expression tightening as though pressing down the ripples in her heart. Then, without preamble, she began recounting her conversation with Edgar.She omitted nothing—not a single detail. Even Edgar’s fleeting pauses between words, the barely audible shifts in his breathing, the flickers of light in his eyes at certain moments—Alia relayed them all with painstaking precision. Her tone mimicked his so vividly that, within the quiet of the room, it felt as though Edgar himself were standing there: cold, suspicious, yet tinged with that barely concealed thrill of anticipation.This near-ruthless reproduction was not only to ensure Marcellus understood; it was as though she was forcing herself to relive each moment, making sure no crack, no possible flaw, had been overlooked.Watching her furrowed brows and the way her gaze sharpened with deadly seriousness, Marcellus felt a faint ache in his chest. Just moments ago
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