The System Gave Me A Yandere Husband

Chapter 12: Surviving Without Him?

Esme woke to the sensation of a thousand needles pricking her skull. She gasped as her fingers instinctively gripped the bedsheet tightly. The piercing headache hit her hard, making her vision swim. Suddenly, a bright red interface flickered in the corner of her eye.

[SYSTEM WARNING: Target is docile.

Daily Vitality Drain applied: -150 Points.]

[Current Status: Mild Cellular Degeneration. Please provoke target immediately to restore health.]

Esme gritted her teeth, trying to keep her breathing shallow and even. Across the room, Eveyr sat comfortably by the window, reading a military book.

Before Esme could even think of a way to trigger his temper, someone knocked at the bedroom door. Eveyr’s calm demeanor vanished in an instant. He slammed the book shut and narrowed his eyes.

"Who is it?" he growled.

"I’m here to deliver an urgent letter from the Imperial Palace, Your Grace," a trembling servant replied. "It is from Crown Prince Julian."

Eveyr crossed the room in two strides, snatched the sealed letter from the servant’s trembling hands, and shut the door. Frost crept up the edges of the parchment as he opened the seal and began reading.

"He is summoning you for a private garden tea. And has specifically mentioned that refusal would be regrettable. He is threatening an audit of certain documents in this household."

Esme’s stomach dropped.

The spy reports. Julian didn’t know the journal had been burned and I can’t let him know.

"I’ll go," she said, pushing herself upright despite the pain.

"Absolutely not," Eveyr snarled, turning the letter into ash in his hand. "How dare he call you alone for tea? I will go to the palace myself and hang his head on the gates."

"No, Eveyr," Esme said softly, swinging her legs over the bed.

Her pain was fading away because of his deadly reaction to Julian’s letter. She was grateful.

"You want to go to him?," he snapped. "I will lock you in the vault before I let you walk into his territory."

Esme stood up and walked towards him. She placed both her hands on his chest as she spoke.

"Julian wants you to get angry," Esme whispered. "He sent this letter hoping you would act like a mindless beast and prove to the Emperor that I am a scared hostage you keep in a cage. And what do you think will happen if Emperor believes him? He will take me away from you."

Eveyr’s jaw clenched as he gripped her waist tightly.

"No one can take you away from me," he said. "I cannot let you out of my sight. No matter what."

"I am never out of your sight," Esme murmured, leaning up, her lips brushing his jaw. "We are married, Eveyr. We took the blood vows."

She played her trump card using his own method against him.

"If you cage me, you will give Julian exactly what he wants."

She slowly dug her nails into his chest.

"Let me walk into his garden wearing your colours, sit at his table, and laugh in his face. Let me show the Crown Prince that I didn’t just survive the Warlord of the North...I chose him. Let me be your wife today, Eveyr."

The idea of her walking into enemy territory to flaunt her absolute submission to him, fed his yandere obsession like adrenaline.

"One hour," Eveyr rumbled, his voice filled with possessiveness. "I will be waiting right outside the palace gates. If I sense anything wrong...I will burn the entire palace into ash."

An hour later, Esme stepped through the palace gates. The imperial gardens were a lavish display of wealth, filled with white roses and beautiful statues.

An Imperial Guard led Esme to the table under a canopy of blooming vines. Crown Prince Julian was already there, wearing his usual polished smile.

Standing a few steps behind him was the same tall man Esme had seen with the Prince at the banquet. But today, he looked different. His eyes made her uncomfortable.

"Duchess Aldric," Julian greeted, standing up to bow. "I am so pleased you accepted my invitation. Eveyr allowed you off your leash, I see."

"I hold my own leash, Your Highness," Esme replied calmly as she took her seat.

Julian gestured for the maids to pour the tea.

"Allow me to introduce Lord Sylas, the head of the Emperor’s internal intelligence. He has taken a keen interest in your... survival."

Sylas didn’t bow. He just stared at her and noticed the subtle twitch in Esme’s left hand as she reached for her teacup. It was a result of the system’s vitality drain.

"I must admit, Esme, you have exceeded all of my expectations," Julian said, stirring honey into his cup. "When I sent you to him, I expected a martyr. Instead, you’ve completely tamed him."

"Get to the point, Prince Julian," Esme said with fake politeness.

Julian’s smile widened.

"The Emperor is very pleased with his newfound stability. He is so pleased that he wants to use it. By Imperial decree, Eveyr is being appointed as the Supreme Commander of the Southern Campaign."

Esme froze.

The South?

"He departs in three days," Julian continued, taking a sip of his tea. "He will be stationed at the border for a year. And, of course, the battlefield is no place for a delicate Duchess. You will remain here, in the Capital, under my protection."

Esme’s blood ran cold.

A year apart from Eveyr? How will I survive without his jealousy and obsession? The system’s vitality drain would kill me in a day.

Esme kept her expression steady and took a sip of her tea, burying the panic rising in her body.

"A year is a long time," Esme said. "I am sure the Vanguard will bring the empire great glory, Your Highness."

Julian looked slightly disappointed by her lack of reaction. He had expected tears of happiness to be finally free of the monster.

"Indeed," he murmured.

But behind Julian, Lord Sylas tilted his head.

His eyes hadn’t left Esme’s face for a single second. He noticed the micro-tension in her jaw, and the slightly rapid pulse at her throat.

Sylas leaned down, though his eyes remained on Esme.

"She isn’t relieved, Your Highness," he whispered. "She is panicking. Something is very, very wrong with her."

Julian’s smile faltered for a second before it returned.

"Enjoy your tea, Duchess," he said as he stood up. "I have other business to attend to."

Then he walked away, with Sylas following him.

Esme sat alone. The tea had gone cold. She set the cup down and stood up.

There is only one way out of this. I have to give Eveyr a reason to refuse an imperial decree...which would be equal to committing treason.