Wicked Husband-Chapter 146 - 145

"In that case, a different analgesic would definitely be more effective. While Aspiria has anti-inflammatory properties, it’s unnecessary if there’s no inflammation. Especially if it hasn’t relieved the pain. What kind of headache medicine have you used before? If the previous medication was also ineffective, it’s likely that it shares similar components with Aspiria. You see, Aspiria is derived from salicylic acid extracted from willow bark, which has been used for centuries..."

Midway through her enthusiastic explanation, Eileen stopped herself with an abrupt "Ah." She glanced around, noticing Leon’s startled expression, Cesare’s amused smirk, and Ornella’s exasperated look. Blushing in embarrassment, she hastily concluded:

"...In any case, if it didn’t work, you should try a different analgesic. Let me know what you’ve been using, and I can recommend something else."

Though she had no intention of making new medicine for Ornella, Eileen felt a small sense of responsibility as a pharmacist to offer alternatives.

’I should’ve kept it shorter.’

Had she spoken with the polished brevity and elegance befitting a noblewoman, Eileen might have avoided the awkwardness. Instead, she had rambled on like an overenthusiastic pharmacist, and now she felt the familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck.

While she silently chastised herself, Ornella’s gaze remained fixed on her with an intensity that made the air around them feel heavier.

"..."

Ornella’s beauty was maddening in its perfection—her smooth, lily-petal cheeks glowing softly in the sunlight, her features as serene as ever. But in that moment, Eileen’s appearance hardly registered to her.

No, it wasn’t her looks that stirred Ornella’s ire. It was something far more personal, something Eileen had unknowingly triggered. A flicker of something darker twisted in Ornella’s chest.

Ornella gritted her teeth, trying to suppress the rising bitterness. But no matter how much she tried to contain it, memories of a past encounter surged unbidden to her mind.

"Do you think you’re the only one in the world who knows how to make medicine? Pharmacists and scientists are everywhere. Anyone could easily replace you."

"No, they can’t. No one can replace me when it comes to the subject I’m currently researching."

Eileen’s resolute rebuttal had hit a nerve back then, and those words still echoed in Ornella’s mind. That unwavering confidence, that sharp, unshakable conviction—it was as if Eileen knew something the rest of the world didn’t. And it sickened her.

A bitter smile tugged at Ornella’s lips as the wave of resentment rose within her. She wanted to gouge out those wide, innocent eyes, to silence that voice so it could never again utter something so arrogantly certain.

She wanted to drag Eileen down into the muck—into a place far worse than where Ornella had once found herself. She wanted to make sure Eileen could never bring up the things she had long since discarded.

"Thank you for your concern, Eileen," Ornella said with a forced smile. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

The surge of emotions felt like an uncontrollable tide. Ornella managed to curve her lips upward, even as she realized that retreating now would look like defeat. Still, she couldn’t endure it any longer.

"I think I’ll... take a rest. Your Majesty, would you assist me?"

With Leon’s help, Ornella began walking back to the tents. But as she left, she suddenly glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze met Eileen’s vivid green eyes for an instant before she quickly turned away.

***

While Ornella rested, preparations for the hunting festival resumed. The event had already been delayed by an unforeseen accident that had damaged the altar.

Before reconstruction could begin, the priests engaged in a heated debate about whether to relocate the altar. Some argued that the bloodstained ground necessitated a move, while others insisted that the rite should be performed in the same spot, as tradition demanded.

After a tense discussion, the priests decided to rebuild the altar in its original location, but with additional purification steps: the bloodstained soil was replaced, fresh earth was brought in, and clean silk was spread over the site.

As a result, the hunting festival began much later than scheduled.

In the presence of all the gathered nobles, Leon was handed a torch by the priests. In solemn silence, he approached the altar, his steps blessed with flowers and holy water to ensure no impurity could reach the sacred site.

After placing the torch at the altar’s base, the pre-treated wood quickly caught fire, and flames leapt up dramatically.

Eileen shuddered slightly at the intense heat, even from a distance. The towering flames swayed like dancers, consuming the flowers and wood in their fiery embrace.

She turned to glance at Cesare. He, too, was watching the fire intently. Before he could notice her gaze, Eileen quickly looked back at the altar.

Leon turned toward the nobles, ready to declare the festival’s start.

But then—

BANG!

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the forest, sending a shockwave through the gathering. The nobles froze, momentarily disoriented, unable to process what had just occurred. At first, they assumed it was merely the sound of another beast appearing, the gunshot a reaction to some unseen threat in the woods.

But moments later, a noble collapsed, blood gushing from a wound.

Screams erupted as panic tore through the crowd. Nobles dove for cover, crawling behind trees, tents, and anything they could find to shield themselves from the next shot.

Before Eileen could think, her instincts kicked in. She rushed toward Cesare, determined to shield him from the next bullet.

But just as she reached him, a rough hand shoved her aside. Stumbling, Eileen looked up at Cesare in shock. To her disbelief, he was smiling.

BANG!

The second shot rang out—and this time, the bullet was aimed directly at Cesare.

Count Bonaparte was relatively untouchable. Though there were minor scandals from time to time, none were serious enough to bring him down completely.

Accusing him of being a spy for Kalpen was premature. If Bonaparte were executed on such a charge, the remaining spies would surely scatter.

To execute Count Bonaparte, Cesare decided to use himself as bait.

"I can’t do this."

When Michele heard the plan, her face went ghostly pale. As white as a sheet, she dropped to her knees before Cesare.

"I can’t, Your Excellency. I absolutely cannot. Just kill me instead."

* * *