My husband returned, carrying my foster father’s severed head.
I had thought he would never come back alive.
My foster father had forced me, a powerless commoner orphan, to marry my husband to steal his fortune, poisoned my husband, and ultimately sent him to that distant battlefield.
But in the end, he returned alive.
So what would become of me now?
Since I too had been a shackle binding him, would I also disappear?
“I don’t intend to kill you.”
My husband tilted his head as he looked at me trembling on the bed.
“You need to stay here for a while, wife.”
“As your wife?”
“Yes.”
…What?
“But the period I expect you to ‘function’ as my wife will be very brief. After that, I’ll release you on whatever terms you desire.”
Do I have any other choice?
I can only nod my head.
