Wicked Husband-Chapter 168 - 167

Her voice carried the conviction of an apothecary who knew the efficacy of her creation. Among all existing painkillers, Morpheus was unparalleled. It had been designed for soldiers on the battlefield, not for ordinary aches or pains.

"Opium..."

The Count trembled as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know it has been used as a painkiller. I researched every possible medicine for my wife..."

The Count had scoured the continent, even contacting Palerchia University, where Eileen had studied. As a result, his knowledge of pharmacology surpassed that of most aristocrats.

"I trust you, Lady Eileen. How could I not?"

His words came with a bittersweet smile, his tear-streaked face contorted with both gratitude and sorrow.

"You’ve chosen my wife over your own safety as the Grand Duchess."

He knew full well the gravity of her admission. By creating a medicine from a substance banned by the Empire, she had risked everything. The Count’s voice shook with emotion.

"Thank you for giving us this chance."

When he knelt again to express his gratitude, Eileen quickly grabbed him and helped him up. She opened her bag and began preparing the dose, checking when the last painkiller had been administered and its dosage before carefully calibrating the appropriate amount of Morpheus.

The Count, watching her careful preparations, asked suddenly, "Does the medicine have a name?"

"It’s called Morpheus."

She had named it with the hope that, even for a fleeting moment, those who took it could escape their pain and find peace in a comforting dream.

***

Count Bonaparte could not comprehend the catastrophe that had befallen him. Never, not even in his wildest dreams, had he entertained the idea of assassinating Grand Duke Erzet.

Admittedly, he had committed a minor transgression: aiding Kalpen during the war while the Grand Duke fought on the frontlines.

At the time, it had seemed inevitable. With the Empire’s defeat appearing certain, many nobles had aligned themselves with Kalpen to safeguard their status. Kalpen had actively courted the Empire’s aristocracy, and siding with the Grand Duke had been seen as a foolhardy gamble. Few had refrained from cooperating with Kalpen. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Still, aiding Kalpen was treason. Yet the Count couldn’t fathom why he and his family had been utterly destroyed. If he were being punished for that, wouldn’t a third of the Empire’s noble class be similarly implicated?

"Your Grace..."

The Count, naked and bruised, slumped in a chair. His once-proud figure was now a pitiful sight, marred with blood and filth. Each word he spoke caused bloody saliva to spill from his mouth.

"Your Grace, you know I am innocent..."

Standing unscathed in the damp prison, Grand Duke Erzet lit a cigarette, unmoved by the Count’s pleas. Smoke curled around them as the Count coughed violently, unable to suppress the spasms. The Grand Duke lowered his cigarette, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"I recall you had pneumonia as a child."

"Yes... yes, Your Grace."

The Count’s lungs had been weakened ever since. He nodded desperately, seizing the opportunity to affirm anything the Grand Duke said.

Without warning, the Grand Duke’s knight kicked the Count’s chair, making him flinch.

"Hold out your hand."

Shame would have consumed him if this had been days earlier. But after enduring relentless torture, shame felt like a distant memory. Obediently, the Count extended his hands, one over the other.

The Grand Duke stubbed out his cigarette on the Count’s bare skin.

"...!"

The searing pain was no less agonizing than the earlier tortures. Despite gritting his teeth, the Count couldn’t suppress a groan. He knew this was his final chance.

Sweat drenched his face as he endured the pain, cradling the burnt stub in his trembling hands. He forced a servile smile.

"Your Grace... How could I ever conspire against you? Command me, question me, and I shall tell you everything. Spare my life, and I will do anything."

The Count had known despair since his capture. None of his protests had been heard; he had only endured endless beatings and tortures. But now, faced with the Grand Duke himself, he saw a glimmer of hope.

The Grand Duke’s piercing red eyes regarded him coldly. The Count tightened his stomach to suppress his terror as the Grand Duke’s voice sliced through the air.

"What orders did the King of Kalpen give his spies in the Empire?"

"T-to disrupt the Imperial army—"

"Eileen Elrod."

The Grand Duke cut him off with a single name.

"We both know there’s no need for pretenses, Count."

His words carried a mocking gentleness. The Count frantically nodded.

"The King of Kalpen—he vilely sought to harm Lady Elrod, taking revenge for his son’s death in the war! He fabricated charges to have her executed, but Your Grace triumphed and slayed the King before it could be carried out—"

The Count blurted out everything he remembered.

"And who told the King of Kalpen about Lady Eileen Elrod’s existence?"

The moment the question was asked, Count Bonaparte froze. It was well-known, albeit indirectly, that Grand Duke Erzet doted on Eileen Elrod as if she were his own daughter.

However, when the King of Kalpen had seethed with vengeance over his son’s death, no noble had considered targeting Eileen Elrod. At the time, she was a nobody—a mere baron’s daughter.

Even under the most favorable circumstances, the highest aspiration for someone like her would have been to become the Grand Duke’s mistress. Yet, the Grand Duke had shown no romantic interest in her, and she was viewed as a fleeting figure who would disappear when his peculiar affections eventually faded.

When Kalpen decided to attack the Grand Duke’s honor, targeting Eileen Elrod seemed illogical. Yet, somehow, rumors surfaced that she was involved in narcotics violations. The plan was to tarnish the Grand Duke’s reputation by linking his protégé to such crimes.

Count Bonaparte had willingly supported the plan. If everything had gone as intended, Eileen Elrod would have been tried for drug-related offenses, and with enough pressure from the nobility, she would have swiftly met her end at the guillotine.

But why had they chosen Eileen Elrod in the first place?

* * *