MLCDF 13

~Chapter 13~

“Huh?”

When he said he couldn’t let me go… did that mean he wouldn’t divorce me?

Does Damien have no intention of sending me away?

“Then… can I really stay here?”

Damien’s gaze changed at my question.

“Of course. I want to keep living with you, Ruby.”

His eyes returned to their usual calm steadiness as he lowered his head slightly.

“People who don’t find me horrifying… are quite rare.”

There was sadness and resignation in his voice.

I realized that the emotions he felt were probably similar to the ones I had carried after years of being ridiculed.

I gently pulled my hand out of his grip and covered his fingers with mine.

“But are you really okay? Living with someone who has such a strange hobby?”

Damien blinked slowly, then curved his lips into a smile.

“Isn’t it better to live with a man who has just as strange a hobby?”

His enchanting smile left me momentarily dazed—until realization struck me.

‘A man with a strange hobby?’

I looked up at him and saw his faint smile.

“Ruby, people possessed by curses usually go insane or take their own lives before they turn twenty.”

That made sense. They suffered excruciating pain while confronting horrific curses all the time.

“But I’m over twenty.”

Yet Damien was still alive, and he wasn’t so insane that he couldn’t function.

“That means…”

“Yes, aside from the pain, I actually quite like curses.”

Damien nodded at the conclusion I had reached.

“I also enjoy creepy things a lot.”

* * *

‘Is this real life?’

Everything since I woke up felt like a dream.

The man I had married through a contract to escape my family… shared my hobby!

The person I would live with might actually understand me for the first time in my life.

‘He even praised my drawings…’

Right after revealing our hobbies to each other, Damien asked if I had any drawings he hadn’t seen yet.

So I gathered them all and carried them to the main library, as he had requested.

“Ah, Ruby. You’ve already brought everything. Here, let me take them.”

“No, it’s not that heavy…”

Before I could finish, Damien had already taken the pile from my arms.

Holding them with his left arm, he opened the library door with his right and ushered me in.

The old-fashioned library, filled with centuries of history, welcomed us with a blazing fireplace.

The bookshelves stretched across two floors, packed with books like a grand library rather than a personal study.

“You don’t come here often. Is there a reason?”

“Ah, I tend to use the library near my room more.”

“Then I’ll have these books moved there. I think you’ll like many of them.”

My heart skipped.

Does that mean… there are lots of horror novels here?

Suppressing my excitement, I sat in the velvet chair Damien offered near the fire. It looked warm and cozy.

“Your skills are incredible. Have you ever formally studied art?”

Damien asked while looking at my drawing of an eight-foot ghost.

“No, never.”

“Then you’re self-taught?”

“Yes… my father hated it.”

He had never given me anything beyond the minimum education, and when he discovered I was drawing curses, he tore everything apart. There was no way he would support art lessons.

Damien picked up one of my drawings.

It was of a black shadow tearing through a mirror, its face identical to the screaming reflection, smiling eerily.

“Did you draw this from something you saw?”

“No, I just thought it would be fun if such a creature existed.”

“I see…”

Damien nodded meaningfully.

“Wait… does something like this really exist?”

“There’s a similar curse in the mansion. I have it under control.”

My heart raced.

‘This place… might truly be heaven!’

I was so glad I married into this house.

“Your depictions are not only skilled, but incredibly creative. Your compositions aren’t ordinary either.”

“Ah… t-thank you.”

Every time Damien praised me, my face felt hot. I wasn’t used to compliments.

‘Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since anyone praised me…’

But I needed to appear more composed as his wife.

Just then, Damien said something unbelievable.

“Ruby, if you’d like to study art formally, I can hire a teacher for you.”

“Huh? A teacher?”

“You’re already talented. With training, you could even debut professionally.”

His face was serious; it didn’t feel like empty flattery.

“It would be a waste not to develop such talent. I’ll let you know once I find a teacher.”

“But… what about the cost…?”

“Don’t worry. I have more money than I can ever use.”

He then pointed with his long fingers to a corner of the table.

“Look. Even the curses are praising your work.”

I turned to see five or six curses bouncing on my drawings.

Friend! Friend!

Us us us!

Name… what?

“They probably think the drawings are real curses like themselves.”

Indeed, the curses were touching and talking to the images. When the drawings didn’t respond, they tilted their heads.

“Ah, they can’t move, silly things.”

Failing to get a reaction, the curses began carrying my drawings away—to their hiding place, it seemed.

Damien started to get up to stop them, but I held his arm and shook my head.

“It’s fine. They look happy to meet a friend. I can always redraw them later.”

He looked at me to check if I truly meant it. When I smiled to reassure him, he finally lowered his hand.

“If you ever want them back, just tell me. I’ll negotiate with them.”

Damien gathered the rest of my drawings and organized them neatly for me.

Then, in the uncovered corner of the table, I saw a stack of papers.

“Huh? What’s this?”

“Ah.”

Damien’s lips curved slightly as he opened the stack.

“Look at this.”

On the first page, bold script read:

<The Shadow Cast Over Ernest Mansion’s Corridor 8>

By S. Frightening

I gasped the moment I saw the title and author of my favorite horror series.

‘Wait… volume 8?’

Something was strange.

The Shadow Cast Over Ernest Mansion’s Corridor series only had seven volumes published.

“Have you read this series, Ruby?”

My mouth fell open.

“Read it? I’ve read it dozens of times!”

To think someone else on this continent read it too!

S. Frightening only wrote horror novels, which didn’t sell well in this romance-dominated market. Most people didn’t even know his name, and I always worried the series would end abruptly.

This was the first time I had met another fan.

“I’m glad. I love his works too.”

Damien’s voice was calm, but his violet eyes sparkled faintly with joy.

“This is an unpublished manuscript.”

“What?”

His voice remained composed, but rose slightly in excitement.

“I liked his novels so much, I became a patron. I couldn’t let the series end.”

He was truly my kindred spirit.

He worried about the same thing and even became a sponsor to keep the books going.

“Since volume 3, he’s been sending me the manuscripts before publication, as a thank you.”

Damien closed the manuscript gently and looked at me.

“Let’s read it together. I thought you would like it.”

Normally, I would have asked if it was really okay.

But seeing my favorite author’s name, I lost all composure.

“Yes, I’d love to! Thank you so much. Let me move my chair—”

I turned to pull my chair beside him.

“My chair…”

But the curses carrying my drawings were struggling to drag my chair down the hall.

They believed pushing straight ahead was the only way home, it seemed.

For a moment, six pairs of eyes turned to me.

Blinking, they realized I was within reach.

Kyaaaaa—!

They screamed and fled in terror.

Don’t want to disappear!!

It was as if they instinctively knew touching me could erase them.

Just then, one curse jumped up in a panic.

Thud!

It crashed into me as it tried to flee.

“Ack!”

The impact knocked me off balance.

‘Huh…?’

As I fell backward, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

But instead—

“Are you alright?”

Strong thighs caught me. Damien had caught me as I fell toward him.

The problem was—

‘Too close!’

I found myself wrapped in his arms. His calm violet eyes gazed into mine, making my face flush.

“S-sorry. I’ll get up right away…”

But something was wrong.

My body wouldn’t move.

‘Why can’t I…?’

The more I tried, the weaker I felt.

“Oh dear. Seems you’ve lost strength.”

Damien whispered softly in my ear.

“Sorry, I’ll get up soon—”

“No.”

He pressed the manuscript into my hands.

“Let’s just read here together, Ruby.”

Then, his cold, slender yet strong hand wrapped firmly around my waist.