Wicked Husband-Chapter 36 - 35

In the frock coat, Cesare’s scent lingered, the same fragrance Eileen had encountered in the Emperor’s Throne Room earlier. The discomfort from the smell of tobacco dissipated, replaced by a comforting sensation in her nose.

Eileen cautiously adjusted the hem of the coat, its texture feeling soft and warm in her hands, likely due to Cesare’s lingering warmth within it.

Not content with how Eileen wore it, Cesare adjusted the coat once more, gently wrapping it around her. Then, tapping Eileen’s nose with his finger, he asked, "The garden?"

"Not yet..."

"Why not yet?"

Cesare glanced at the footman, who had been guiding Eileen. The footman stashed the handkerchief wrapped around the cigarette butt and reported.

"The delay was due to the two of them engaging in conversation."

His tone was rigidly formal, as if he were addressing a soldier. Admiration and respect shone in the footman’s eyes, as if conversing with Cesare was an honor.

Typically, maids and servants were divided into several ranks, with assistants often held by high-ranking nobles. Those overseeing such tasks were usually nobles of middling rank or below.

Cesare was renowned for his practice of recruiting talent regardless of social status. His closest knights hailed from common birth, having earned knighthood and ascended to nobility.

People admired, respected, and even harbored expectations of Cesare. Perhaps they nurtured hopes that they, too, might catch his eye and ascend in the world.

Cesare cast a brief glance at the footman, whose eyes sparkled with admiration, and chuckled softly.

"Engaging in conversation indeed."

As the footman’s eyes, tinted with reddish pupils, narrowed, he immediately cast his gaze downward. He dared not meet Cesare’s gaze.

With no intention of pressing the weak further, Cesare simply issued a brief command. "Escort Lady Farbellini outside," he instructed, his expression indifferent. "She seems to have lost her way."

Everyone knew it was an absurd statement, but there was no one present who dared to challenge the Grand Duke’s words. Ornella, the Emperor’s betrothed, was still just Lady Farbellini. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Ornella didn’t show anger or resentment. Instead, she simply pressed her lips together in silence, her eyelashes quivering slightly, as if she was holding back tears.

"Your Grace Erzet," Ornella addressed Cesare, clutching her handkerchief tightly, her voice trembling. "I am relieved to see you in good health. During your campaign, I prayed for you every day, without fail." She managed a weak smiled. "Still, since you have returned safely, it seems that the Lord has heard my prayers. I shall take my leave now."

Bowing slightly, Ornella elegantly addressed the footman in a graceful voice.

"May I request your guidance?"

She looked as delicate as a wilted lily. The attendant, momentarily forgetting his earlier discomfort, responded with sympathetic eyes.

"Of course, Lady Farbellini."

As Ornella departed with the attendant, only Eileen and Cesare remained in the hall.

Eileen glanced up at Cesare softly, and their eyes met. Cesare returned her gaze with a faint smile and asked, "Shall we go see the plants?"

But Eileen whispered weakly, "I’m sorry..."

She always seemed to be apologizing to him. If only she could be more confident. Since meeting Ornella, she had lost all her confidence, feeling as though she could disappear into the ground at any moment.

Without much reaction to his suggestion of going to see the plants, Cesare immediately understood the reason.

"You must have heard some unnecessary words from Ornella."

Yet, they weren’t unnecessary words. Thanks to Ornella, she had become aware of the reality she hadn’t realized before. She actually owed her a word of gratitude.

"Your Grace..." Eileen hesitated as she made her request to him. "Would you mind opening the door to the laboratory for me?"

Just the thought of the dowry made her feel overwhelmed. The situation differed from when she almost married a foreign noble. Back then, it was about a man struggling to find a bride and paying money to acquire one.

But now, she was marrying the most admired husband in the Empire. Marrying Cesare, who had no flaws, meant she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. She had to show some signs of effort.

For now, she devised a plan to sell the medicines in the laboratory and some expensive tools to raise money.

Despite realizing she might have had a bit more flexibility had she not purchased the platinum pocket watch, it was a gift she truly desired to give, so she chose not to dwell on regrets.

’I’m sure you’ll understand if it’s a little lacking, right?’

The marriage had been decided abruptly, with Cesare strongly pushing for it, so Eileen hoped he would be understanding if she couldn’t provide everything.

However, the problem lay in how to deliver the dowry. Typically, it was customary for the bride’s father to deliver it to the groom’s father. In Eileen and Cesare’s case, Baron Elrod would have to deliver it directly to Duke Erzet himself.

’But can I trust my father?’

There was a possibility that he would lay his hands on the dowry that she had barely scraped together. Even if he couldn’t take all of it because he feared Cesare, he could still easily pocket some. She didn’t even know if the already pitiful amount would remain intact.

The more she thought about it, the more daunting it became, especially with the wedding approaching quickly.

’I wouldn’t have had these worries if I was Lady Ornella.’

She envied Ornella’s sturdy family background. Eileen tried not to be jealous of Ornella and anxiously awaited Cesare’s response.

For some reason, Cesare didn’t respond right away. Eileen nervously stared at his lips until Cesare slowly opened his mouth.

"I was planning to open it after we got married."

"Oh, uh, I was in a hurry..."

"Why the rush?"

"Because there are customers waiting. Some of them are sick, you know."

In truth, there were hardly any urgent cases among their regular customers. She had already prepared some headache medicine for Mr. Luca, the clock merchant, whose supply had run out.

But with the sudden urgency, excuses poured out effortlessly.

"The medicines I make are quite effective, you see. So some people prefer only mine. They say the others aren’t as effective... Oh, I’m not bragging, just relaying what I’ve heard from customers."

Despite her earnest efforts to justify herself, Cesare listened silently, offering little reaction. Unable to think of anything more to say, Eileen looked up at Cesare with pleading eyes.

"Is it still too difficult?"

Her hands automatically came together politely as she spoke. Cesare stared down at Eileen for a moment, then furrowed his brow slightly.

"Take off your glasses."

For reasons she couldn’t fathom, she quickly complied and handed him her glasses. Then, unexpectedly, he reached out and brushed Eileen’s bangs aside.

"Ah."

Their eyes met without any barriers. Cesare’s figure filled her field of vision cleanly. Eileen took in a surprised breath, feeling her chest swell slightly.

He slowly cupped her cheek. As his gloved hand made contact, a slight shiver ran down Eileen’s body, a tingling sensation coursing through her spine.

Since she was young, Cesare often used to stroke her hair or touch her cheeks affectionately, as if caring for a cute child.

But now, it felt so different, perhaps because she knew what else those hands could do, how they could ruthlessly torment her in the most intimate places...

A memory flared – a fleeting glimpse from the night. Eileen’s lips unconsciously parted, a sliver of pink peeking out. Cesare seized the moment, his kiss landing softly.

He explored Eileen’s palate with a languid sweep of his tongue, drawing a gasp from her. Her waist dipped instinctively as his grip tightened, a delicious captivity. He teased her with playful strokes, mapping every sensitive corner of her mouth before finally releasing her, a slow, deliberate retreat.

Eileen met his gaze, chest heaving. Bewilderment warred with a nascent desire in her eyes. She couldn’t decipher the sudden shift, the unexpected turn their encounter had taken.

"Why, why..."

"Why can’t you sing?" he whispered, licking his lips with his tongue as Eileen stuttered.

"You’re good at talking nonsense, though."