My Husband Will Regret This

Chapter 10

The strong scent of liquor permeated the air as the bottle was opened. Eric took out two glasses and poured whiskey into them.

“This time, I’d like to ask you to be more comfortable, Your Highness.”

“…Have I not been comfortable all this time?”

“Please go ahead and take a sip.”

Eric handed the glass of whiskey to Harris, who was still puzzled.

And slowly but concisely, Eric continued speaking.

“In exchange for exporting under the name of the Kingdom, there has been a 20% cut from the sales until now.”

“Yes, but isn’t that your agreement with my father?”

“It’s been three years.”

Holding a glass full of whiskey himself, Eric stared leisurely at Harris.

“I’m talking about the fixed rate of the tax. It’s already been a long time since that time has passed.”

Eric took a sip.

Even as a sweet scent entered his nose, a bitter taste spread over his tongue.

“Now, well, you’ll have to think carefully about my position. I don’t need the name of the Royal family to help me anymore.”

On Harris’ careful mask, a crack could be seen.

F*cking Eric Aslan.

This was an obvious provocation. And he held himself with confidence, like he was actually going to win.

Of course, thanks to Eric’s inventions and his railroads, the Kingdom was thriving.

The authority of the Royal Family, which had fallen to the ground, was restored to some extent. The commoners’ favor could be attributed to Eric, being of common descent, because he was siding with the Royal Family.

But Eric Aslan was trying to step away?

To go that far. That’s not possible.

With his emotions tempered down, Harris approached Eric calmly.

“Whatever the Marquis wants. Of course.”

Then he went closer and clutched Eric’s shoulder.

“But listen to me.”

His fingers were tense. Eric could feel a sharp pain as though the prince wanted the rip his shoulder off.

“My sister wants to see you, Marquis.”

Harris’ golden eyes flashed dangerously.

His eyes held a glimmer of desire for opulence yet a dim sense of helplessness by the fact that he couldn’t achieve this, and these two emotions intertwined closely together.

“Marquis…”

Harris whispered in a low voice.

“You’ll need a higher status. Don’t you think so?”

Eric glanced down at the hand on his shoulder.

It’s been a while since Harris had been secretly pushing for Eric to marry his sister, the Fourth Princess.

It started about two years ago.

“Your Highness.”

Eric shook his head, sighing.

“I have a wife.”

It was a firm answer, but it was also something Harris was used to.

The prince smiled as he shrugged.

“Think carefully, Marquis.”

He licked his lips and spewed out poisonous words.

“Religion has lost its hold over the people.”

Harris walked behind Eric with his hand still on the other’s shoulder.

“People no longer listen to God nor read the Bible. Power is in money. We have to adjust well.”

In this rapidly changing era, people were divided into two categories.

Idealists who spread stories of reaching the heavens, and capitalists who desire to create a new world based on money while living to protect their dignity.

Eric was, thoroughly, the latter.

“At times like this, isn’t it great that the Marquis is a truly wealthy man? No one could even come close to your wealth.”

“……”

“But you have no power—no strength.”

And by this, he meant ‘status’.

In the bloody hierarchy that still remained, Eric was still only a pawn.

And Harris was very aware of Eric’s sense of inferiority.

“I’m saying that I’ll give you that strength.”

His words were as desperate and as equally tempting as a snake’s whisper.

Eric refilled their glasses.

“Once again, I must say that I am married.”

“Didn’t I say it earlier? Religion has lost its power. People are no longer shying away from divorce.”

Wasn’t that the case only for men?

Eric tried hard to swallow these words that almost left the tip of his tongue.

“Something like divorce is ruled by the Supreme Court, and I’m the one who holds the right to appoint the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. I can easily wrap it up and pass the documents.”

“Your Highness.”

“Stop being so stubborn. Isn’t this for Chloe’s sake anyway?”

Harris finally retracted his hand on Eric’s shoulder.

And he faced the other man.

The golden eyes that were the mark of a Royal—contained blatant desire.

“Rather than a Marquis…”

Harris grabbed both of Eric’s arms firmly, as though saying that he had no escape.

“I think being a Royal would suit you more.”

Eric had to summon all the patience he had in him to maintain his facial expression. He could barely maintain his indifference.

Eric was so livid that he would have cussed and kicked out this man if he was anyone else, but he was a prince.

And apart from anger, he felt shame.

He was in a position where he needed to listen to ridiculous suggestions like this from such a bastard all because of his status.

“Please think about it seriously this time. My sister is getting older, so the matter of marriage needs to be settled as soon as possible.”

Harris said this with a relaxed smile, thinking that Eric’s silence was something positive.

Eric looked away instead of answering.

And at that moment.

—Knock, knock.

Someone was outside the door.

Eric and Harris looked towards that direction at the same time.

Didn’t Eric say that no one was to disturb their meeting?

In this unexpected situation, Eric strangely felt nervous. He felt anxious without knowing why.

“There’s an arrogant person who dares to interfere with a prince’s meeting. Can I kill that person?”

“You cannot, Your Highness.”

“I’m kidding. Come in.”

Wherever he went, Harris would always act like he owned the place.

This was something Eric was familiar with, but he couldn’t stand how unpleasant it all was.

Managing to suppress the rising anger within him, Eric turned to the person who came in.

It was Andrea Cognac, the lady-in-waiting who had been brought in yesterday. She entered awkwardly.

Why was this woman… Eric felt his heart pounding in his ribcage.

The anxiety he was feeling could be felt by how fast his heartbeat was.

“I-I apologise for disturbing you. I tried to look for Your Excellency’s aide, but I couldn’t, so I had no choice but to—”

“What’s wrong?”

Eric cut her off.

“The Madam collapsed. We must call a doctor, so—”

—Crash!

Eric stared blankly towards the floor where his whiskey glass fell.

Glass shards scattered onto the carpet.

But he didn’t move an inch.

He just had a white face.

Harris’ lips curled up in a smile.

“Is Chloe here?”

At this, Eric finally came to his senses. He put a hand at the edge of the desk and stood up.

“My wife is here because there’s something she had to do. But she’s going back soon.”

“It’s snowing this hard. And they say that there was an avalanche in the northern part of the country.”

“She’s going back soon.”

Listening to Eric repeat the same words, Harris burst out into laughter.

This insignificant man couldn’t hide his feelings, was what he thought about Eric.

It was quite fun to see him like this.

“Then let’s do this.”

Harris proceeded to talk as he filled his glass with more whiskey.

“We’re having a banquet at the palace next week.”

“I heard, but Lord Garnet will be attending in my stead.”

“No, no.”

Harris poured the alcohol straight down his throat.

At the strong liquor, his esophagus became hot.

His heart was also scorching.

Harris felt a pleasant buzz.

“You’ll attend with Chloe.”

Harris smiled leisurely.

“She might become upset if she was sent back without even being given the capital’s hospitality.”

“However, Your Highness, you’ve just heard that Chloe is sick.”

“I’ll send my doctor over.”

Eric gritted his teeth.

Now that Harris said this, he couldn’t continue to refuse.

“Then let’s go over it in detail when we meet again. The prosthetics deal…”

Harris placed his empty glass on the desk, then winked.

“And your remarriage.”

 

* * * 

It hurts.

This was Chloe’s only thought as she barely held onto her consciousness over the boiling fever.

Why did this happen? She didn’t know how she got to this point.

The last thing she remembered was fighting with Eric, leaving the room and breathing heavily as she was holding onto a chair for support. After that—nothing. It was as though blank paint had been poured over her eyes.

And when she woke up, she was lying in bed. She realized she had a fever when she exhaled once.

‘It hurts so much.’

She had to take her medicine.

But she had no strength to rise from the bed. It was hard enough to keep her eyes open. She didn’t even have enough strength to lift a single finger.

Perhaps she should just stay like this.

If she didn’t take her medicine after collapsing like this, would she die from this fever? If she were to die now…

“The doctor will come soon.”

Chloe heard a voice, and she opened her eyes unknowingly.

Eric’s face could be seen, but her eyesight was blurry.

“Please continue lying down. Don’t get up.”

Then she felt something cold over her forehead. Eric had placed a wet towel over her.

But then her entire face became damp as though the towel hadn’t been squeezed properly. Eric hurriedly lifted the wet towel.

“Damn it. If I squeeze it more, it won’t be cold—but if I squeeze it just enough, the water’s too much. Just what am I supposed to do then.”

He squeezed the towel again. Then, with a careful touch—at least, it felt that way for Chloe—he placed the towel over her forehead once more.”

The cool sensation of the towel pressed against the heat of her skin.

Chloe had just been staring at him blankly.

It all didn’t feel real. It felt like she was dreaming.

How else could this situation be explained unless it was truly a dream?

Eric was taking care of her.

Why?

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“Can you breathe comfortably?”

However, it was vivid, this hand that touched the tip of her nose. It couldn’t be a dream.

Chloe quickly regained her senses. No matter how sick she was, she couldn’t show such a disheveled appearance.

“I’m al… right…”

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