Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“I’ll make sure that His Highness won’t take the upper hand in your transaction. I can do that well. Please, I must meet His Highness.”

It was a desperate plea—and this just made Eric’s mood even more sour.

“It’s the Second Prince who’s visiting.”

“What?”

“It’s not the Third Prince, who you’ve been waiting for, Wife.”

Chloe couldn’t understand what he meant.

“I wasn’t waiting for William. It doesn’t matter which of the princes it is.”

William. It’s the first name of the Third Prince—the very one who had once been engaged to her.

Were they close enough to call each other’s names casually? Eric unknowingly furrowed his brows deeply. His anxious thoughts piled higher.

“Even so, you can’t meet him. No matter how close you were, it’s already in the past. You’re not friends anymore.”

Eric stood up and extinguished his cigarette against the tea table.

“You are to stay in this room until His Highness leaves. After that, I’ll send someone over to you.”

“Darling.”

“It’s also better if you have your meals here.”

“Darling!”

Chloe stood up as well, then she ran forward to block Eric’s way.

“Please let me just once. I must meet His Highness.”

She begged with all her might—and this only made Eric more uncomfortable.

“Why?”

He spoke in a provocative tone.

“Why do you have to meet the prince?”

“That’s…”

Chloe unconsciously averted her gaze. With her eyes lowered, she bit her lower lip.

What should she answer? Should she say that she wanted to meet the prince for her husband’s sake? Tell him that she wanted to meet the prince to pay back the money her family owed?

No. She couldn’t do that.

“I can’t say the reason for now, but I really must meet—“

“Stop it.”

Eric openly showed his displeased expression as he cut off Chloe mid-sentence.

“DANIEL!”

He shouted at the door. Soon after, the door opened slightly.

“Yes, you called, sire?”

Without even a glance at Chloe, he turned to Daniel.

However, the only one in Chloe’s eyes was Eric.

She was still imploring him to let her meet the prince.

“Keep an eye on my wife. Don’t let her leave this room.”

“Darling!”

He was going to have her watched?! Chloe raised her voice at the ridiculous command, grabbing Eric’s arm.

“Why must you do this… Let’s talk, please…”

“Chloe.”

And it was only then that Eric met her eyes.

His gaze pierced through her. He was so expressionless that… It was like he was looking at an object that meant absolutely nothing to him—unfeeling, heartless.

“Just listen to me.”

His words were succinct, but his tone was heavy.

As he passed by the frozen Chloe, he added.

“Lock the door.”

Bang!

The door slammed shut.

Click.

And the knob was locked.

There was no time to protest.

Eric only said what he needed to say and disregarded Chloe’s words.

Just like always… Right. It’s always been like this. He was consistent until the end, just as much as he never loved her.

Chloe staggered and barely managed to reach a nearby chair.

She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up. It was a useless delusion.

‘Even if I talk to Eric…’

Nothing would have changed.

‘Because until the bitter end, you’ll never love me.’

Chloe buried her face into her hands.

The room was heavy with desolation. She didn’t want to breathe in this air, but she had no choice. She needed to breathe.

“The Madam’s face was completely ashen.”

Grumbling as he stared at the back of Eric’s head, Daniel muttered this as he walked a half-step behind Eric.

“Why did you have to fight today? It was only yesterday that we talked about not fighting with her, sire.”

“Shut up.”

“No, but why did you have to do that? Why did you have to lock the door when it’s not something that normally would have angered you? The Madam will be really upset.”

“I said shut it.”

“Haa, what a cold-hearted guy.”

Daniel shook his head and hit his chest repeatedly.

“The Madam did nothing wrong. I can’t believe that her husband is a man without blood or tears.”

“……”

“If it weren’t for that debt, you wouldn’t have gotten married anyway—ah, wait.”

Ah, ah. Daniel covered his mouth. Then, he slowly gauged Eric’s temper.

Eric’s expression was already severe as it was, but now, his face was even more distorted.

Sh*t, this mouth. He hit his own lips several times.

“I apologize. I misspoke.”

“As long as you know.”

“Are you angry?”

Eric stopped in his tracks.

Was he angry?

He looked back at his thoughts.

Was he mad that he was told that he was a ruthless, unfeeling man with no blood or tears?

Was he angry that Chloe wouldn’t have married him if it weren’t for her family’s debt?

Eric pondered. But it wasn’t long.

“No.”

He wasn’t angry. Because everything Daniel said was true.

“I thought you’re right.”

In a life where he had no way of knowing whether he’d live or he’d die, emotions were more like a luxury to him.

So Eric didn’t know what to feel.

To be exact, he didn’t know any other emotion other than being angry. Daniel’s first observations were correct.

And Eric’s marriage with Chloe…

Daniel wasn’t wrong about that either.

If it weren’t for the Duke’s debt, Chloe wouldn’t have married Eric.

Chloe Rolphe, a true blue noble, wouldn’t have looked in Eric’s direction, being the lowborn that he was.

When he first saw her at the academy, she took Eric’s breath away.

No man wouldn’t have fallen in love with her. With her silver locks shining beneath the sun, her blue eyes that seemed as though they held the blue ocean itself, her porcelain skin, her elegance.

And so Eric constantly tried to stand out in front of her. But what were the words he heard from her?

’But isn’t he a commoner?’

A commoner.

That’s right. He was a commoner.

And she was the daughter of the only Duke of the country.

There was a line between him and Chloe—a line that could never be crossed.

No matter how much he tried to excel, he could never uplift himself from being a lowborn… Except, he managed to become a noble through money.

Eric suddenly smirked.

Was there anything that money couldn’t buy?

“Let’s go. Today’s transaction must be closed without a hitch.”

He strode forward once more.

“It’s been a while, Marquis.”

The Second Prince, Harris, brought in Eric in an embrace as though he was greeting a close friend.

It’s been eight years since Eric became a noble, so he was versed in proper etiquette. He bowed and greeted the prince politely.

“Why are you being so formal? Never mind that. You don’t look comfortable anyway, just speak casually.”

The prince’s words were full of thorns.

It was as if he was saying that no matter how much Eric acted like a noble, he was still a commoner to the core.

Harris provoked Eric relentlessly.

“Thank you for letting me be at ease, Your Highness.”

Even so, Eric responded easily without a change in his expression, as if he didn’t hear Harris’ earlier words. The prince’s eyes narrowed.

‘He’s like a kid.’

Eric glanced at Harris and clicked his tongue inwardly. Harris was like this originally anyway.

The King, his father, approved of Eric. However, Harris pretended not to know about this fact.

He would always boast of his pure-blooded lineage, expressing his pride as a member of the Royal Family without any filters with his words.

Harris was, to cut it short, a foolish, arrogant man.

Eric was determined to crush Harris’ nose someday, but now wasn’t the time. He lowered himself to the prince and bided his time well.

Right now, Harris was a royal, and Eric was a mere commoner.

Eric smiled harmlessly at the prince, but Harris looked away, still in a mood.

“Hmm. It’s fascinating no matter how many times I see it.”

Harris turned around and lifted a prosthetic leg on Eric’s desk.

“I don’t understand the principles behind it.”

The hunk of metal shaped like a leg was full of small cogwheels. Harris wanted to know how all these parts moved, but he wasn’t interested enough to study it in earnest. Harris was a trader, not an inventor.

“That prosthetic leg of yours is selling so well in the west, almost amounting to 40 million pounds. Of course, this amount was from three months ago—it should be significantly higher now.”

“The west is a warzone. Of course it would sell a lot.”

Without responding, Harris lifted his gaze from the prosthetic leg and towards Eric. He scanned Eric’s prideful face.

A commoner.

Harris scowled ever so slightly, but it was wiped from his features in an instant.

Anyway, Eric Aslan was an astounding, talented man who basically revived the Kingdom. The Second Prince was bent on having the man on his side.

“The Marquis is truly incredible.”

Harris smiled brightly and approached Eric.

“It’s a blessing from God that such a talent like you is here in our country.”

“I am also grateful that I am a citizen in a country that has recognized my talents.”

Eric smiled back casually. It looked like a sincere smile, so Harris’ face noticeably brightened.

Eric saw this, and he pointed to the prosthetic leg on the desk.

“If we export to the east, we will make more money.”

“Right. The market is bigger there.”

“The nomadic war is still ongoing. We can expect more than twice as much profit than the total that we’ve made.”

“I agree.”

In their natural conversation that flowed like a river, Eric chuckled low, which the prince couldn’t hear. He opened the whiskey bottle he had ready on the desk.

——

t/n: my blood pressure skyrocketed while I was translating this chapter, haaaaa