Wicked Husband-Chapter 165 - 164

Clinging to that hope, Eileen carefully recounted mundane stories and trivial conversations she’d had with the knights, deliberately omitting anything of significance. Cesare listened with a faint smile, giving no sign of suspicion.

***

The hunting festival had ended abruptly, its ominous events leaving the forest and its sacred grounds in disarray. Evidence of the chaos remained untouched, a grim reminder of what had transpired.

Cesare stood before the ruined altar, once adorned with fragrant cedarwood and flowers. The offering had never been burned; its purpose left unfulfilled.

Though an attempt had been made to rebuild the altar after it was desecrated with blood, the festival’s ritual had ultimately been abandoned. For the first time in the empire’s history, the hunting festival had gone incomplete.

Priests had suggested holding a ceremony at the temple to make amends, but Cesare dismissed the idea. The significance of the ritual lay in its precise execution; once disrupted, it was rendered meaningless.

Cesare plucked a wilted lily from the altar, its petals drooping lifelessly. He examined it briefly before tossing it back onto the pile of offerings. His gaze hardened as he looked at the altar.

He intended to sever the bond between Traon and its gods, ensuring they could no longer intervene in the empire’s affairs.

"Lotan," he called.

The knight, standing silently nearby, immediately stepped forward and handed Cesare an open bottle of liquor. Cesare poured the contents over the altar, the sharp scent of alcohol filling the air.

The act mimicked a traditional offering, but Cesare’s intentions were anything but pious. Striking a match, he set the altar ablaze. The fire roared to life, consuming the ruined offerings.

As the flames danced and grew, a fleeting shadow crossed Lotan’s expression. Cesare noticed and asked, his tone seemingly indifferent, "How was the memorial?"

"Thanks to Lady Eileen’s visit, it was a pleasant day," Lotan replied, tearing his gaze from the fire. He turned to Cesare and bowed deeply. "As always... thank you, Your Grace."

Years ago, it was Cesare who had saved Lotan from the flames that destroyed his home. He had pulled both Lotan and his daughter from the inferno, though the child had succumbed to smoke inhalation shortly after.

The guilt of endangering his master and failing to save his daughter had haunted Lotan ever since. Every scar on his body, every flicker of fire, served as a constant reminder of his failure.

Cesare, fully aware of Lotan’s torment, never attended the memorials himself. Instead, he quietly sent small gifts, like the teddy bear Lotan had placed on his daughter’s grave this year.

As sparks from the fire drifted on the wind, Cesare turned to Lotan. His crimson eyes, reflecting the flames, were as unsettling as ever, and Lotan found it difficult to meet his gaze.

In a tone that was almost casual, Cesare said, "Eileen seems to have asked Michele for a favor."

His faint smile lingered as he added, "Do you know what it was?"

Lotan felt a cold shiver run down his spine. It was as if Cesare already knew everything and was simply asking for confirmation.

"Don’t be so tense, Lotan."

Cesare spoke calmly, retrieving a cigarette and placing it between his lips. Lotan moved to light it for him, but Cesare waved him off, striking a match himself. After lighting the cigarette, he tossed the still-burning match onto the altar.

"Michele didn’t say anything, nor have I placed any surveillance on the knights."

"..."

"Eileen tends to rely on you knights, doesn’t she? Especially Michele—she likely wanted to confirm her suspicions, since Michele was the one who pulled the trigger this time."

Cesare surmised that Eileen had turned to Michele for assistance, leading him to question Lotan.

The heat from the burning altar licked at Lotan’s skin, but he scarcely felt its warmth. His silence stretched long, weighed down by unease.

Cesare slipped one hand into his pocket, holding his cigarette with the other as he resumed speaking. "So, was my assumption correct?"

"...Your Grace."

"Eileen wants to know why I’m doing all this, doesn’t she?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"Yes, that is correct."

Cesare made a short hum of acknowledgment, exhaling a stream of smoke. The oppressive weight on Lotan’s chest made him swallow dryly. Instead of providing the answer Cesare wanted, Lotan asked a question of his own.

"Why did you destroy the altar?"

As the cedarwood and flowers burned, a fragrant scent rose with the smoke—an incongruous pleasantness for such a scene. Lotan’s voice carried a tone of unwavering loyalty as he continued.

"We will follow Your Grace, no matter what happens."

Cesare gazed at him with a calm yet penetrating look, as if already knowing the depth of devotion his knights bore him.

"We will do whatever it takes to help Your Grace achieve your goals. Please, share your thoughts with us. And perhaps... you could also tell Lady Eileen. She may struggle with the truth at first, but she will endure and—"

"Lotan."

Cesare cut him off, flicking his cigarette onto the flames. The fiery altar consumed it in an instant. A distorted smile crept across Cesare’s face as he spoke.

"You all think I’ve become immortal. But that’s not the case."

Lotan froze, his trembling eyes fixed on Cesare, uncertain how to respond.

"My body’s time is simply... frozen at one moment."

Cesare’s words carried a twisted amusement, as if he found his situation darkly humorous.

"Even when I’m injured, my body reverts to that singular moment, giving the illusion of immortality."

His voice grew more sardonic as he continued.

"I bargained with the gods to bring Eileen back to life. And as payment, this is what I became. But rewinding time and resurrecting the dead... those are no simple tasks, are they?"

What Cesare had endured was no balanced exchange. To turn back the clock, he had offered countless sacrifices, tipping the scales irreparably.

"My time is finite. And when that time runs out..."

The burning altar began to collapse, the wood crumbling under the weight of the flames. The noise drowned out Cesare’s final words, but Lotan had heard enough. His complexion turned ghostly pale, even in the searing heat of the fire.

"Well, Lotan."

Cesare’s crimson eyes curved as he smiled, his gaze sharp as a blade.

"Do you still think Eileen could handle the truth?"