The System Gave Me A Yandere Husband

Chapter 22: While The Yandere Slept

Eveyr did not let her walk back to the bedroom. He swept her off her feet and held her against his bare chest. He carried her through the shattered remains of the greenhouse as if she weighed nothing. The cold night air bit at her skin, but Eveyr’s body was radiating heat, keeping her warm.

"Put me down, Eveyr," Esme protested, trying to push against his shoulder. "My legs are fine. I can walk."

"You are bleeding," he replied, looking straight at the doors of the estate. "You will not take another step tonight."

Esme knew arguing with him right now was useless so she stopped struggling. She rested her head against his shoulder, her mind racing. Her arm throbbed from the glass cut, but she felt triumphant inside. She wasn’t worried about the punishment because she knew he would never physically hurt her.

Her entire focus was on the massive 5000 point jackpot she had just earned from his jealousy.The thought alone had filled her with excitement and hope.

Just a few more such incidents and I’ll be free.

The atmosphere around them instantly changed as Eveyr stepped inside the bedroom carrying her.

Outside the window, the black magical dome surrounding the estate had thickened. The air in the room too became dense and heavy.

Eveyr walked to the bed and set her down on the sheets gently. He checked the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around her forearm. The bleeding had stopped.

He knelt at her feet. His hands brushed against her bare calf as his fingers traced her silver anklet he had locked onto her earlier. Esme immediately pulled her leg back, kicking out to break his grip.

"What are you planning to do now? Let go of me."

Eveyr didn’t react. Instead, he moved his hand and gripped her ankle tightly.

"I am ensuring you survive yourself, Esme," Eveyr said calmly.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, a thin but unbreakable silver chain appeared out of thin air. It made a soft sound as the magic solidified, linking the anklet to the leg of the bed.

Esme stared at the chain in horror.

"Take it off," Esme ordered, her voice shaking with fury.

She yanked her leg, making the silver chain pull taut with a sharp sound.

"Take it off right now, Eveyr! What the hell are you doing? I am your wife!!"

"My wife tried to bleed to death on a dirty floor for a spy," Eveyr replied smoothly, finally looking up at her. "My wife snuck out into the cold and broke my peace of mind. You lost your privileges."

"You are insane!" Esme yelled, trying to remove the anklet but nothing happened. "You cannot chain me to a bed! I will scream until the entire Vanguard breaks down that door!"

Eveyr stood up, towering over her. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them on the mattress so she couldn’t hurt herself again.

"Scream, then," he whispered, leaning down until his lips brushed her forehead. "Scream until your throat bleeds. No one is coming to save you from me, Esme. You are not allowed to walk these halls alone anymore. Until you learn that the outside world only exists to take you from me, you will stay here."

Esme stopped fighting and looked up at him in disgust. But Eveyr looked completely unbothered. In fact, he looked satisfied and content that his prize had been secured.

Realizing that screaming would only feed his need for control, Esme’s analytical mind immediately took over. She turned her face away, staring blankly at the wall, refusing to shed a single tear for him to wipe away.

Eveyr didn’t mind her silence. To him, it was a victory. As long as she was chained to his bed and completely his, she could hate him all she wanted.

For the next two days, Eveyr created a perfect domestic prison for her in the room itself. He stayed in the room all the time. He brought her meals himself, patiently holding the spoon to her lips. When she refused to open her mouth and turned away, he didn’t get angry. He just set the bowl down and stroked her hair gently.

"I can wait all day, my wife. I have nothing but time."

He brushed her hair, sat by the fire and read poetry to her for hours. He didn’t allow anyone else to enter their room. He changed her bandages himself and her wound was almost healed now.

The system hated this peace. Because Eveyr was constantly beside her, happy and in control, there was no trigger. Esme didn’t earn a single point in two days.

[WARNING: Target Agitation is at 0%.]

[Vitality beginning to decay]

[Current Health: 94%]

Fuck! Fuck!!

Esme knew she couldn’t stay chained to this bed forever. While Eveyr read to her, she opened the system interface. With the thousands of points she had gained from the greenhouse incident, she scrolled through high-tier items.

[Purchase Confirmed: Master Illusionist (Passive) : 1000 Points]

[Purchase Confirmed: Silent Lockpick (Active): 1500 Points]

I just need to wait for the right moment now!!!

On the third night, Eveyr lay beside her, deep asleep. His face was buried in her neck and his head rested on her stomach.

Esme lay perfectly still in the dark, listening to the crackle of the dying fire. She waited for nearly an hour until his breathing evened out.

Then she looked down at her chained ankle and activated the [Silent Lockpick] skill. She didn’t try to break the chain. She knew Eveyr would immediately feel it and wake up. So, she focused on the clasp of the anklet. The clasp unlatched without a sound. The chain dissolved the moment the anklet opened, returning to shadow magic.

Carefully, she moved her foot out of the silver ring. Using the [Master Illusionist] skill , she left a trace of her body heat inside the ring. The anklet closed empty but it continued to hum. The illusionist skill fed false heartbeat and temperature readings into the anklet.

She smiled and carefully slid her legs out from under Eveyr’s arm and put the blanket in her place. She got out of the bed and grabbed a dark robe from a nearby chair, pulling it tightly around her shoulders. Then she slowly walked out of the bedroom.

The estate was dead silent. Surprisingly, there were no guards in their wing. Eveyr was so confident of himself that he had ordered everyone to stay from his wing.

Fool!!

She roamed the dark, empty corridors, finally free to stretch her legs. As she reached the grand staircase, her gaze dropped at the library below. A chilling memory surfaced in her mind. She remembered the final words the original Esme had written in her diary.

The sub-cellar. Made of silver and bone. He is hunting for something.

Esme stopped and looked down at the ground floor with curiosity.

"Let’s see what you’re hiding down there, Your Grace," she whispered and smiled wickedly.