Wicked Husband-Chapter 152 - 151

"I don’t know what kind of grand proclamation he plans to make, but he’ll pay for this," Duke Farbellini spat, his voice trembling with rage. His words echoed the indignation of the entire room.

But beneath their outrage was an undercurrent of burning curiosity. What exactly did the Grand Duke intend to achieve by bringing them all together?

Their questions were answered when the doors to the grand banquet hall swung open.

Cesare entered, clad in the uniform of the Empire’s Supreme Commander. His ceremonial dress, adorned with medals and honors, was a testament to his role as the empire’s defender.

Behind him followed four knights, handpicked by Cesare himself during his time as a prince. Renowned for their exceptional skills, their presence commanded the attention of every noble in the room.

The moment Cesare and his knights stepped inside, the soldiers stationed around the hall snapped to attention and saluted. With a simple wave of Cesare’s hand, they returned to their positions, standing at ease.

The flawless synchronization of their movements sent a chill through the nobles. The loyalty of the imperial army was far more formidable than they had anticipated.

As Cesare made his way through the hall, high-ranking nobles moved forward to greet him. Leading them was Duke Farbellini, his face flushed with anger.

"Grand Duke Erzet! How dare you commit such a—"

Before the duke could finish his sentence, Cesare made a subtle signal to his knights. It was a gesture so precise, so ingrained in military protocol, that only those trained in its meaning could understand.

As the nobles exchanged confused glances, the doors to the banquet hall slammed shut with a thunderous boom. The windows that had been left open were immediately closed, sealing off every exit.

The soldiers drew their swords. What the nobles had once dismissed as ceremonial blades now gleamed sharply, their edges deadly.

"...G-Grand Duke?"

Duke Farbellini stammered, realizing something was terribly wrong. Cesare, standing before him, unsheathed his own sword with elegant precision—and drove it into the duke’s neck.

The series of events unfolded seamlessly. From the moment blood sprayed from the duke’s throat to the sound of his body collapsing onto the floor, the hall was engulfed in stunned silence.

Bathed in the blood of his victim, Cesare smiled coldly and gave a single command.

"Kill them all."

Not a single noble in the hall fully grasped the meaning of Grand Duke Erzet’s command immediately. They froze in place, their faces blank with shock, until the sharp edge of a blade neared their throats. Only then did they comprehend the words.

Faced with impending death, they finally recalled the rumors that had quietly circulated through the capital some time ago—the story of Grand Duke Erzet’s massacre of civilians at a tavern on Fiore Street.

The imperial family had covered the slaughter with a veneer of justification, punishing the Grand Duke with house arrest.

The nobles had dismissed it as the act of a madman, ridiculing Erzet’s supposed descent into madness. Yet none had imagined that the blade of that madness would one day turn toward their own necks.

Piercing screams echoed through the hall. They tried to flee for their lives, but there was no escape—no route left open to them.

Soldiers who had once risked their lives for the Traon Empire now stained their hands with blood for Cesare.

Crimson splattered across the pristine marble walls faster than it could drip down. A golden-winged lion statue was painted red with fresh blood.

As the room turned into a sea of red, Cesare laughed, watching with delight as every noble in the capital met the same fate as his beloved Eileen. Their necks were severed by the blade, one after another.

What was the point of weighing the severity of their crimes or identifying who had directly participated in her death?

Those who had stood by as Eileen was led to the guillotine, and those who had turned her suffering into idle gossip, were all equally guilty. Their sins, committed with their eyes and tongues, could only be repaid with death.

***

"Grand Duke Erzet."

The voice of Eileen whispered in his ear. Cesare knew it was a hallucination, yet he made no effort to regain his senses.

"I have tarnished the grace Your Excellency showed me with this disgraceful death. How can I ever atone? Not even my death can wash away the great sin I have committed. For a long time, I hesitated to write this letter, feeling unworthy of the act. Yet, shamelessly, I have found myself putting pen to paper."

Her small, trembling voice recited the words of her letter. Cesare could picture her clearly—furtively writing on a scrap of paper, obtained with great difficulty, under the watchful eye of her guards.

"The Morpheus I was developing is a painkiller meant to ease the suffering of soldiers. If Your Excellency deems my research worthwhile, and if any notes remain, I hope you might entrust its completion to Professor Glenda of the pharmacology department at Pallercia University. She was my mentor during my studies, and she might be able to finish what I started."

Tears streamed down her face as Eileen wrote the letter, her sobs almost visible to Cesare’s mind. He reached out to grasp her image, but it dissolved into empty air.

"I do not know if Your Excellency will ever read this letter. Yet, if you once found me even a little endearing and choose to find traces of me..."

Eileen, now unable to hold back her tears, wiped her swollen eyes with her sleeve as she pressed her pen to the paper.

"What I have done stems entirely from my own foolish greed. I was blinded by a desire to create a great medicine and earn fame and power. I hope you will not hold it against me."

After pressing her pen to the paper to finish the letter, she hesitated for a long time before writing the final line.

Rather than begging for her life as the guillotine awaited, Eileen sincerely prayed to God for Cesare’s well-being.

"May only glorious moments fill Your Excellency’s path."

That was all. The single sheet of paper contained no grievances about her unjust treatment, no mention of those who had slandered her, and no reproach toward Cesare for failing to protect her. Even after reading the letter repeatedly, Cesare found nothing more.