Wicked Husband-Chapter 86 - 85

With everyone occupied with their own duties, it was challenging to gather all the knights. Eileen, not wishing to impose, decided to request the presence of only the knight with the most free time.

That evening, Lotan arrived to see Eileen.

[I’m sorry to call you so suddenly.]

Eileen gazed at Lotan with a mix of gratitude and apology. Lotan furrowed his thick eyebrows, looking puzzled.

"The Grand Duchess calls, so naturally, I must come," he said firmly, almost as if scolding her for apologizing. Eileen nodded vigorously at his response.

Taking a deep breath, Eileen prepared to speak. Her voice, strained and hoarse, barely rose above a whisper.

"Lord Cesare... almost killed me."

It was clear that while Lotan knew Eileen had been harmed by Cesare, he was unaware of the specifics. Eileen struggled to continue, her words forcing their way out to the now stunned Lotan.

"Then he... self-harmed in front of me."

Lotan’s face visibly shifted with shock. Eileen sipped her warm tea to soothe her aching throat before she spoke again.

"I’m afraid it might happen again... and that Lord Cesare might seriously injure himself."

She drank more tea, savoring the warmth that eased her throat with each sip.

As Eileen continued to drink, Lotan exhaled a long, heavy sigh.

"Lady Eileen," Lotan said, his scarred face contorted in anguish and his voice laden with pain.

"Please, prioritize your own safety above all else."

His advice echoed what Cesare had said, but with a tone of deep concern. Eileen quickly scribbled, [I’ll try my best], on a piece of paper and showed it to him. Though Lotan’s expression remained troubled, he chose not to press the matter further.

[If you know anything about His Grace’s condition... could you please tell me?]

Eileen asked if Lotan had any idea why Cesare was harming himself, but despite her pleading and the strain in her voice, Lotan remained silent.

Though usually gruff, Lotan had always been warm and kind toward Eileen. He was the type who often initiated conversations and enjoyed talking with her, so it was unusual for him to remain so quiet for this long.

From his silence, Eileen could sense that Lotan knew something but was unable to share it with her.

How frustrating.

She could tell there was a reason he couldn’t speak, but it didn’t diminish her frustration. Biting her lip, feeling both drained and resigned, she picked up her pen to ask another question.

[Then what should I do? If something similar happens again.]

After a long silence, Lotan finally spoke, his gaze fixed on Eileen’s shaky handwriting. His words were completely unexpected.

"If that happens again," he said, "stab Lord Cesare with a knife."

Eileen’s mouth fell open in shock. Lotan continued, his tone oddly rational despite the absurdity of his suggestion.

"You must stab him as if you intend to kill him. Only then will he come to his senses."

He further explained that Eileen should act without hesitation, assuring her that Lord Cesare wouldn’t die from the wound. Overwhelmed, Eileen immediately began to scribble frantically with her pen.

[How could I possibly do that? I can’t do it! I’m not confident at all!]

Lotan, carefully reading the hastily written and misspelled note, offered a new suggestion.

"Are you not confident? Then how about training? I could teach you how to use a knife."

Eileen shook her head vigorously at the offer. The conversation had veered completely off course. She broke into a cold sweat, staring at Lotan in disbelief.

His expression was entirely serious; there was no hint of jest in his demeanor. After his insistence on stabbing Cesare, they finally returned to the original topic.

"We can’t tell you everything just yet. But one thing is certain," Lotan said, maintaining his serious tone, "Lord Cesare, under no circumstances, would ever want to see you hurt. Never."

"That’s why I suggested you stab him with a knife," Lotan explained, his tone unwavering.

With that, the conversation concluded. After summoning someone only to end up discussing knife training, Eileen saw Lotan out to the front of the mansion.

As Eileen watched Lotan’s carriage leave, her mind was filled with a whirl of complex thoughts. Amid her reflections, Sonio quietly approached and delivered an update.

"His Highness has returned. He is in the courtyard. Would you like to go see him?"

Typically, Cesare would be the first to seek out Eileen upon returning to the mansion. The fact that Sonio was informing her of his arrival suggested he had not come to find her today, and she wondered if he might not visit her at all.

"I haven’t seen him since this morning," Eileen replied, noting that Cesare usually made it a point to see her first, even though they lived in the same house after she became Grand Duchess. It seemed that today, it was her turn to seek him out. She thanked Sonio and made her way to the courtyard.

The courtyard was illuminated by lanterns and moonlight, making the night scene clear and visible. Eileen walked quietly across the spacious area, which was meticulously maintained by the mansion’s gardeners. The expansive courtyard was a focal point for guests, with every plant and flower carefully arranged.

As Eileen approached, she saw Cesare standing under an orange tree. He leaned against the tree, his expression stoic, as he smoked a cigarette.

The sight of Cesare smoking was unfamiliar to Eileen, and she came to an abrupt halt. His red eyes met hers with an unsettling calmness, as if he had been aware of her presence all along and was not surprised by her arrival.

A peculiar silence settled between them. Cesare lowered the cigarette and exhaled the smoke, then extinguished it in a decorative ashtray that had blended seamlessly into the surroundings.

As Eileen took in the sight of the ashtray, she noticed the ornate object standing like a pillar under the orange tree. It was only then that she realized its purpose.

Cesare brushed off his clothes with a casual motion before turning his gaze back to Eileen. She hesitated momentarily but eventually approached him. Cesare remained still until she reached him.

Standing before Cesare, Eileen looked up at him, taking a deep breath. The faint smell of cigarette smoke lingered, marking the first time she had encountered such an odor from him.

Faced with this unfamiliar side of Cesare, Eileen blinked several times, struggling to find the right words. Her initial plan to greet him casually seemed inadequate in this tense moment, and her lips remained tightly closed, perhaps due to his unfamiliar demeanor today.

After a lengthy pause, Cesare suddenly leaned closer.

"Why did you ask someone else?" he asked, his breath warm against her cheek. His voice was soft but insistent. "Instead of asking your husband directly."

Eileen swallowed nervously. Her throat, though still slightly hoarse from a day of tea and medicine, was no longer severely painful. Determined to maintain her composure, she replied with steady effort.

"Will you tell me if I ask?"

Cesare, intently watching her, responded calmly, "Only what I wish to reveal."

Summoning her courage despite her anxiety, Eileen asked, "Please show me your palm."

Cesare willingly removed his gloves and revealed his palm. The scar from the letter knife had completely vanished. Eileen examined his hand and then met his gaze, which he held steady.

Realizing that this might be her only opportunity to get an answer, Eileen grasped his hand tightly and asked, "Why did you do that at the brick house?"

The wind rustled through the orange tree’s leaves, creating a soothing, wave-like sound. Cesare’s gaze remained fixed on Eileen, unwavering and intense.

At first, it seemed he might remain silent, but he began to speak in a dry, detached tone, as if recounting someone else’s story.

"I once had a dream where we lived together in the brick house."

He reached out with his free hand and unwrapped Eileen’s bandage, skillfully undoing the knot around her neck.

"It was a long dream. I was trapped in it and wandered for what felt like an eternity. To escape—"

The white bandage fell away, revealing the scars beneath. Cesare’s voice grew distant as he continued.

"I had to kill you."

Eileen was silent, absorbing the weight of his words. Cesare’s tone softened as he added, "But yesterday, for a moment, I couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality..."

His voice trailed off, and he offered a faint, hollow smile. Though his expression remained calm, his eyes appeared as dry and fragmented as shattered glass.

Seeing the pain in his eyes, Eileen felt a pang of heartache, as if she were holding shards of glass in her bare hands. Struggling to contain the anguish, she spoke softly.

"...It was just a dream. It wasn’t really me."

She wished that he would not be tormented by illusions of her. Clutching his hand tightly, Eileen whispered, "I’m here now, Cesare."

***

thank you for reading Please do consider adding it to your library.