Chapter 9 (2/2)
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.
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t/n: my blood pressure skyrocketed while I was translating this chapter, haaaaa