IWLNCSM 02

Chapter 02…..

“Didn’t I already explain? I’ve become the Holy Lady’s knight.”

Huh? What on earth am I doing here?

“So stop with these ridiculous excuses. You’re not a child—don’t make this so tiresome.”

Through her blurred vision, a cold-eyed man came into view.

Aside from looking a little younger than the face she remembered, it was unmistakably her husband. There was no way that face could exist twice.

“Felix Teresia, who lives and dies drunk on his own pride…? You died too?”

She muttered in sheer disbelief, and her husband answered with a chilling tone.

“What trick are you playing at this time?”

“So… you’re not dead?”

“If you want to pretend you’ve gone mad, you’ll need to do a far better job, wife. With such pathetic acting, you won’t fool anyone.”

The irritating way of speaking, the polished exterior—everything was him.

None of this made sense. She instinctively took a step back. Felix, casting her a look of sheer disgust, glanced her up and down before swinging onto his horse.

Behind him, a luxurious carriage followed, meant to escort the so-called Holy Lady.

She had never ridden in such a carriage in her entire life.

“I… I only wanted to ask… since it’s my birthday, if you could at least have dinner with me….”

That was all she wanted to say.

But as she stammered weakly, as though forced to speak against her will, Iona suddenly remembered—she had said these words once before, long ago.

Ah. I remember now. What today was.

But that was five years ago.

Watching Felix’s retreating figure, she suddenly realized something else and shuddered.

No way! That uniform… he only wore that about five years ago!

After the Holy Lady appeared, many things had changed—including the uniforms of the Holy Knights.

“I always wanted to study fashion, you see? So I know a thing or two about clothes. I simply can’t allow such a well-shaped body to be draped in something so tacky!”

The Holy Lady had insisted, summoning Felix day and night.

Later, she even came to their home, measuring his body herself, dressing and undressing him repeatedly.

It was so outrageous that Iona had fought with him about it many times.

Still dazed, she stumbled back into the bedroom and clutched a cracked full-length mirror, staring hard at her reflection.

Her golden hair, often likened to honey since childhood, swayed down to her waist. Her fair cheeks and lips touched with vitality confirmed—she, too, looked young.

“Madam, are you all right? I heard you quarreled again…”

“Tara!”

Iona called out loudly as she spotted the maid who had followed her in with a worried face.

Freckles, hair braided into two plaits, and gentle, wide eyes—Tara was the only maid in the house who had ever treated her kindly.

But one day, she was suddenly dismissed. Just for accidentally spilling a little tea while serving the Holy Lady.

Iona hadn’t been able to protect her, powerless as she was then.

She had regretted it deeply, ever since.

Seeing Tara here… this must really be a dream.

She pinched her cheek. It hurt—so maybe not a dream. But still, she decided to think of it that way.

“If it’s a dream… I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

Her chilling murmur made Tara approach anxiously and press a hand to her forehead.

“Do you have a fever, Madam? If you’re unwell, I’ll fetch some medicine.”

“No, Tara. I’m fine. Tell me… what year is it now?”

“Um… It’s the year 826 of Ignareon.”

Thump!

Thump-thump-thump-thump.

Her heart pounded as if it might break through her ribs.

She recognized it—this feeling was joy.

I don’t know how or why, but right now I’m twenty-three. Since it’s my birthday, it must be October.

That meant she was three years into her marriage.

It was the time when she had lost so much, suffered so many absurdities.

Her self-esteem had sunk so low, and yet she could do nothing about it.

“Did the god I prayed to endlessly… finally answer me?”

Before marriage, Iona’s family name was Abel.

The Abel family was renowned for producing generations of High Priests—her father was one himself.

The problem was that her knight husband served a different god.

The Abels worshipped the splendid and bountiful goddess Isis.

The Teresia family, Felix’s house, served the frugal and ascetic god Baldur.

The two faiths were nearly enemies.

So naturally, a daughter of Abel, married into Teresia, would not be well treated.

But Father never cared about my circumstances. All that mattered was how much he could squeeze from the Emperor through this marriage.

And so, even when he heard she was being humiliated, the Abel family turned a blind eye.

“Endure it.”
“That’s just how husbands are.”
“Men are still boys even when they grow up.”
“If only you acted more sweetly and coaxed him, would your husband behave like that?”
“You should learn to be sly, not dull like some clumsy bear.”

Enough! I loathe those words!

Just then—

“This is the statue of the Holy Lady you requested. Since you wanted it in a sunny spot, we’ve placed it in the garden.”

“Oh my, it’s wonderful!”

A bright, cheerful voice, the kind that seemed ready to laugh at even a falling leaf, rang in her ears.

Unlike the rather dim room she stood in, the outside blazed with light.

The garden, once as dreary as the mansion’s interior, had recently been lavishly renovated.

That’s right. But it wasn’t for my birthday, though back then I foolishly believed so.

Her husband had only spent the money to set up a more fitting place for the Holy Lady’s statue.

If it were an image of a god, that might be acceptable—but no, that would be blasphemy.

I died in the year 831 of Ignareon….

That meant five years.

For five years, she endured watching her husband dote on the Holy Lady.

Because she had nowhere to go.

No money.

No means to leave her family behind.

“…Bring me a sturdy axe.”

Yes, it was the kind of day perfect for a picnic, filled with laughter.

Far too fine a day for axes, screams, and blood.

With a calm smile, Iona gave Tara her command.

“The heavier, the better.”

Though startled by the sudden order, Tara obeyed without question.

And that was fortunate.

Iona had returned to a time when she still had someone in the house who treated her as its mistress.

“Madam, I couldn’t find a large axe on such short notice, but here’s a hand axe.”

“Well done. Hand it here.”

At this age, she had never lifted anything heavy.

By the time of her death, she had no servants left and had to do everything alone—cooking, cleaning, even laundry.

It’s heavy… but I can handle it. My willpower is enough.

If it meant smashing that wretched statue—

“Wife? What are you doing out here?”

Felix frowned when he spotted her.

The Holy Lady, as always, looked at her with wide, innocent eyes.

Never once did she greet Iona. And Iona’s greatest regret was that she had never managed to call her out on it.

Not that I want a greeting now.

Ignoring the pair clinging together like bugs, Iona finally unleashed the words she had bottled up for so, so long.

“A grown man who still cries out for his mother—there’s never a decent one among them!!!”

Thud!!!

“And a husband who forgets his wife’s birthday—never a decent one either!!!”

Crash!!!

Gripping the axe, she charged and swung at the statue.

She didn’t know where the strength came from—or rather, she did.

It was rage, enough to make her head spin.

There was no way she could stop without breaking it.

“Wife, what are you doing?!”

“Out of my way, you bastard!”

Craaaash!!!

Crack!

The statue of the Holy Lady was hollow, made cheaply of plaster to save money instead of being carved from solid stone.

Why?

Because the garden renovation had eaten up the budget.

She focused her strikes in one spot, and finally, cracks spread across the statue.

And then—

Bzzzzt!

[Constellation ‘<Urgent Help> My Husband Shattered into 14 Pieces, What Do I Do?’ has donated 10 Diamonds!]

[See? I told you it’d be entertaining!]