Chapter 10 (1/2)

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.