Wicked Husband-Chapter 137 - 136

He had hoped Cesare would say no—that there were reasons of his own he simply hadn’t shared yet. Leon had wanted his brother to deny it without hesitation. But no response came.

Instead, Cesare only narrowed his long eyes, locking Leon in his gaze.

Then, a sudden, thunderous realization struck Leon.

It’s all because of Eileen.

A twin’s instinct left no room for doubt. As his suspicion solidified into truth, Leon’s face stiffened. His voice turned sharp, laced with accusation.

"The feather of the lion... Why on earth? Why provoke the House of Farbellini for that worthless feather?"

Leon knew the royal family had arranged a marriage with the Farbellini, making Cesare’s late-night raid utterly incomprehensible. He’d heard that the Grand Duke’s house had initially antagonized the Grand Duchess, but such a public display from Cesare was out of character. Leon couldn’t understand why his brother would make such an uncharacteristic move.

Stealing something like the lion’s feather—an item that would appeal more to a child than to Cesare, who was usually so cool-headed and strategic—seemed beyond reason.

The memories of their mother’s relentless, grueling treatment still felt fresh. Cesare’s sudden interest in legends felt like a betrayal. Had he forgotten all they’d endured together? The hardships they’d survived by leaning on each other?

Dizzy from the storm of emotions swirling inside him, Leon barely recognized his own feelings. And as his frustration continued to rise, Cesare remained silent—watching him with unnervingly calm eyes, as if weighing Leon’s outburst on some invisible scale.

As he stared into his brother’s crimson eyes, an unsettling thought struck Leon—one he couldn’t ignore, no matter how absurd it seemed.

All the love he had poured into Cesare, even the way he had tried to transform his own feelings of inferiority into affection... Perhaps it had all been a survival instinct.

Brother," Cesare said quietly, breaking through Leon’s spiraling thoughts.

"I took the feather because I needed it," Cesare continued. "As for the Farbellini family, they may have secured a marriage alliance, but it will not last. They are too greedy."

Leon bit his lip, trying to steady the tremor in his voice.

"...You’re right."

"And, Leon." Cesare’s use of his name was rare—he usually called him brother. Leon looked at him, his gaze faltering, as if he had forgotten how to breathe.

"We may be twins," Cesare murmured, his crimson eyes taking in Leon’s slight shiver, "but we are not the same person."

"Don’t act like the former emperor." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

The words hung in the air, sounding like a final warning—a chance to turn back..

***

The Grand Duchess of Erzet’s new medicine, Aspiria, has quickly become a must-have for those eager to stay on top of the latest trends in the capital.

A bottle bearing the grand duchy’s crest—who could resist such a symbol of status? Even those with no need for medicine are snapping it up, simply for the prestige.

But what’s truly surprising is that Aspiria isn’t just a fashionable trinket.

Many—including myself—had little expectation of its effectiveness. Yet, to our astonishment, Aspiria has proven far more potent than initially advertised.

Not only does it relieve headaches, but it also seems to ease colds and other common ailments, earning praise from all levels of society.

Perhaps, just as the Duke predicted when asked by reporters, this medicine may indeed have a far-reaching impact.

This past weekend, the Duke and Duchess visited the pharmacy together, proudly flaunting their affection for one another...

Eileen set the magazine down, her fingers still absently turning its pages. Despite the enthusiastic praise being heaped on Aspiria, she felt no joy. Her mind was heavy, her thoughts elsewhere.

She’d come to a troubling realization: Cesare had a habit of silencing uncomfortable topics with embraces or kisses.

Until now, she had never noticed this pattern. There had been few occasions when he needed to stop her from speaking, and when he did, it was often with such tenderness that she never thought to question it. But now, seeing it for what it was, she felt a mixture of elation and unease. Discovering this new side of him brought her a sense of clarity, but also a certain distance.

"You’re my nightmare, Eileen."

Cesare’s words echoed in her mind, a refrain she couldn’t shake. Though he quickly brushed it off as a slip of the tongue, the weight of the statement had already settled deep in her heart.

The idea that she might be a "nightmare" to him gnawed at her. She tried to reassure herself that he hadn’t meant it in the way it lingered in her mind, but the sting remained. For the first time, she felt unsure of how to act around him—what to say, how to smile.

So, without fully realizing it, she began to distance herself from Cesare.

Eileen’s movements were confined to the estate, leaving little space to hide from the world. But the Grand Duke of Traon was a busy man, and she had found ways to avoid him. She could lock herself away in the laboratory for hours or retreat to bed early, giving him little opportunity to find her.

The same Eileen who had once lingered around the dining hall or his office, who fought off sleep just to see him, now focused solely on her experiments.

As Aspiria gained popularity, Eileen was determined to finish her work on *Morpheus* as soon as possible, knowing it could serve as a shield against any controversy that might arise.

"If I can produce Morpheus, maybe I’ll be a little more useful," she thought, staring at the scarlet petals of the poppies in her laboratory. Her gaze drifted to the small dish in front of her, where a few brown crystals lay—her first success in isolating the pure compound. But even this achievement failed to spark much excitement.

What she felt was pressure—an overwhelming need to deliver results, quickly. The next step was testing the compound’s effects, and that thought alone quickened her heartbeat. She paused, her breath catching in her chest. Feeling suddenly suffocated, she packed away her tools, discarded her apron and gloves, and retreated to her room.

After washing up and slipping into her nightclothes, she collapsed onto the bed, trying to will herself to sleep before Cesare returned.

Not that he’ll necessarily come...

It had been days since she had seen him. Whether he arrived late or she was already asleep, he hadn’t entered their quarters. The longer they stayed apart, the more the ache in her chest tightened, but she forced herself to endure it.

The pain of missing him was nothing compared to the agony of facing him.

As Eileen lay there, her body tense with anxiety, she tried to will herself to sleep. But then the door clicked open.

She forced herself to relax, feigning deep slumber as she heard him discard his coat and move silently toward the bed. His presence lingered beside her, and she could almost feel the faint touch of his fingers brushing through her hair, though she remained perfectly still.

After a moment, he moved away, perhaps to change his clothes, and she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. There was a flicker of hope—maybe her act would succeed after all.

But soon the mattress shifted as Cesare settled in beside her. Just as she tried to steady her breathing, his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Eileen froze.

His voice came low and steady, whispering in her ear.

"How long do you plan to keep pretending?"

Startled, Eileen let out a soft squeak before quickly covering it with a feigned yawn. She rolled over to face him, trying to mask her racing heart.

"When did you get here?"

"Oh, so now you care to notice," he replied, his tone calm but piercing. "You’ve been busy avoiding me."

She gulped, her mind scrambling for words.

"Eileen."

His voice was quieter now, more insistent.

"Yes?" she answered, feeling the weight of his gaze.

"Are you upset with me?"

"Pardon?"

"Is that why you’re avoiding me?"

He leaned in, as if to kiss her, but instinctively, Eileen drew her head back. His eyes flickered with surprise, though his expression remained unreadable.