Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 338 - Three Hundred And Thirty Seven

Derek rode his mare slowly through the snowy streets of the capital city. The winter wind was freezing, blowing cold air against his face, but he did not feel it. His mind was completely full.

The words of Lord Colton pondered in his mind, echoing over and over again in his head.

Do you know your wife could be brought back to life?

It was a dangerous thought. It was forbidden magic that demanded blood and a human life. But the temptation was pulling at his broken heart. He wondered if he was selfish enough to accept the dark deal. He wondered if Marissa would forgive him for using dark magic to bring her back.

The large iron gates of the Thompson estate finally appeared in the falling snow. The gates opened, and Derek rode into the wide stone courtyard. The house was extremely quiet. The usual busy noise of the servants was gone. Everyone was walking softly, wearing dark clothes to show their respect for the dead Duchess.

When he got home, he stopped the horse near the warm stables. He got down from the mare slowly. His back still burned with sharp pain from the arrow wound, but he ignored the pain. He reached out his gloved hand and gently patted her mane. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Ian stepped forward from the shadows of the stable doors. The shadow guard looked very tired. He had not slept in two days. He stepped up and took the leather reins from Derek’s hands.

"Welcome home, Your Grace," Ian said softly, bowing his head in deep respect.

Derek looked at his trusted friend. He let out a long, heavy breath that turned into white smoke in the cold air.

"How is the preparation for Ryan’s arrival?" Derek asked. His voice was flat and completely empty of emotion.

"His carriage should arrive in two days," Ian replied quietly. "The young master’s room is cleaned and ready. His tutors have been informed of the tragedy, and they will give him space."

Derek nodded slowly. Ryan was his nephew. Since Ryan’s real parents had died, Derek and Marissa had taken the boy in. They loved him like their own son. The thought of the small boy arriving home happily, only to find a funeral, made Derek’s chest tighten with terrible pain. But it would be best if the little boy finds out sooner than later.

"How is my Grandmother?" Derek asked, looking toward the dark windows of the main house.

"She is out of danger," Ian replied, a small look of relief crossing his tired face. "The poison was very strong, but the royal physician gave her the antidote just in time. She is responding well to treatment. She woke up an hour ago, but she is very weak. She is currently sleeping."

"Good," Derek spoke as he turned around and began to walk toward the front doors of the mansion.

He stopped at the bottom of the stone steps and looked back at Ian. His dark eyes were completely serious.

"I don’t need any disturbances tonight," Derek ordered firmly. "Tell the maids, the butler, and the guards to stay away from the back wing. Do not knock on the door for any reason. I’m going to see my wife."

Ian didn’t say a word. He understood the deep, crushing grief of his master. He just bowed low, holding the horse’s reins, and watched Derek walk up the stairs and into the silent, dark house.

Derek walked through the long, empty hallways of his home. The house felt too big and too cold without her. Her scent was missing from the air. He went straight to his private study on the first floor.

He opened the heavy oak door and walked directly to his wooden liquor cabinet in the corner of the room. He opened the glass doors and reached inside to take a smooth crystal glass and a specific bottle of dark red wine. It was a very old, very strong vintage. He held the bottle tightly in his hand, grabbed the glass, and left the study without turning on a single lamp.

He walked down the long corridor that led to the very back of the house.

At the end of the hall, there was a special room built of thick, heavy stone. It was usually used as a cellar for storing winter meats and supplies to keep them cold, but now it held something much more precious. Two Thompson guards stood outside the heavy iron door. When they saw Derek approaching, they quickly unlocked the heavy door, pulled it open, and stepped far away down the hall to give him privacy.

Derek walked inside. The heavy door clicked shut behind him.

The air in the room was freezing cold. It felt like walking into the middle of a winter storm. There were no windows. The only light came from four tall, white wax candles burning silently in the corners of the stone room. Derek’s breath instantly turned into thick white clouds in front of his face.

In the center of the dark room rested a large, heavy stone coffin. It was placed on a raised stone table.

The coffin was filled with thick, clear blocks of ice. The servants had sprinkled white salt over the ice. The salt melted the top layer of ice just enough to make it freeze even colder, dropping the temperature of the coffin to preserve the body from decay. The cold was bitter, biting into Derek’s skin through his uniform, but it was necessary.

Derek walked slowly toward the stone box. His boots made no sound on the floor. He stepped up to the side and looked inside.

Marissa laid there.

She was dressed in a beautiful, clean white silk gown. The maids had washed the dirt and blood from her skin. Her dark, curly hair was brushed softly and laid perfectly around her shoulders and over the pillows of ice. Her hands were folded peacefully over her stomach. She looked like she was just taking a quiet nap.

But she was not sleeping.