I’m Going to Change My Husband With a Predatory Marriage - Chapter 83

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 83

Arpard tilted his head slightly to the side.
Then, as if he couldn’t possibly comprehend what he’d just heard, he asked again.
“What did you just say?”
I repeated my apology once more.
“I’m sorry for being out of commission at such a critical time. I didn’t expect to be bedridden for five days. But don’t worry—the plans will proceed without any setbacks.”
I thought this should satisfy Arpard.
Even if he was a ruthless, heartless prince, he did seem at least somewhat concerned about me as his collaborator.
I’d been ill for five days, after all.
Surely he could overlook this much.
But Arpard’s next question was entirely unexpected.
“You think I’m worried about our plans being disrupted?”
“…Aren’t you?”
We were bound together by a marriage contract of abduction.
Of course we both needed to be of use to each other.
“So you think of me that way, and the moment you wake from your illness, that’s the first thing you say.”
Something strange and unsettling began to creep over me.
How should I put it.
Like I’d just stepped on a dangerous red button?
‘But what was wrong with what I said?’
I’d apologized to my contractual business partner for personal circumstances causing delays to our schedule.
I’d even reassured him that there would be no further problems.
‘What else am I supposed to do?’
Had something serious happened during those five days I was unconscious?
But if something had, shouldn’t he explain it first?
I felt anger and indignation beginning to rise.
Arpard was looking at me with an expression far too complicated to read.
And he muttered something incomprehensible to himself in a daze.
“So while having nightmares… you were calling out for me….”
“What are you talking about? You had nightmares?”
At that, Arpard’s expression became even more peculiar.
I called out to him carefully.
“Arpard?”
The man, who seemed to be somewhat lost in thought, suddenly startled as if shocked.
And he answered immediately in a voice that was oddly soft and uncertain.
“Yes, Hillia.”
There were more than one or two strange and suspicious things happening.
But this wasn’t the time to worry about such trivial matters.
‘If he sees me handling things well, he won’t complain.’
I grunted and struggled to push myself upright.
Arpard considerately grasped my shoulder and helped me up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ugh! My body… I have no strength!”
“Didn’t I already tell you? You were unconscious for five days. Your fever was quite high.”
I found that somewhat strange.
‘Why is he being so obedient and gentle? Normally, he would have twisted his words at least five times by now.’
Listing all the damage that occurred while I was unconscious.
Or boasting about how much trouble he went through to prevent it.
First, I needed to assess the current situation.
“While I was unconscious, could you explain what happened within the Imperial Palace, the public opinion in the Capital City’s High Society and among commoners, and the situation in the West?”
At that, Arpard’s unusually gentle expression crumpled miserably.
Finally, I heard the tone of Arpard that I knew well.
“Did you understand what I just said?”
“…Yes. So I need to grasp the situation right away and handle the backlog of work…”
Arpard suddenly flared with anger and pressed me back down onto the bed.
“Can’t you at least act like a patient!!”
“!”
My defenseless body was once again engulfed in the soft, cushioned bed.
And Arpard’s shadow fell heavily over me.

* * *

Only after leaving in an uncharacteristic fit of emotion did Arpard regret his actions.
‘What am I doing to a patient in this condition?’
And he was newly astonished by the realization.
Regret. There was nothing less fitting for Arpard Istrid than such a feeling.
Lately, he’d been experiencing this unfamiliar emotion far too often.
Every time, the cause remained the same.
The woman lying beneath him now.
Her pink hair scattered across the white bedsheet resembled cherry blossoms carpeting the ground.
Though merely imagination, the fragrance seemed to brush against the tip of his nose.
It was a thought entirely unsuited to the moment.
“….”
“….”
Hillia’s eyes darted about restlessly.
An awkward silence passed between them until, at last, Hillia parted her lips and broke it.
“…You’re heavy.”
“Ah.”
Only then did Arpard realize he was pressing Hillia against the bed.
The very patient he’d just angrily declared his intentions toward.
He shifted awkwardly, releasing her and moving to sit beside her.
Still on the same bed, but no longer close enough for their limbs to intertwine as they had moments before.
Only then did Arpard notice that Hillia’s nightgown had ridden up, exposing her legs.
His hands moved before his thoughts could fully form.
He pulled her skirt down and drew the blanket over her.
No, even that didn’t feel like enough.
‘She’s far too defenseless!’
And she was a patient on top of it all.
So he wrapped Hillia up tightly in the blanket.
“?”
Startled by the sudden action and dizzy from being jostled about, Hillia protested belatedly.
“W-what are you doing all of a sudden?”
‘Why are you turning me into a human spring roll?!’
For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, Arpard seemed satisfied with having wrapped Hillia up like a blanket burrito.
“I told you. Your fever was high.”
“But wrapping me up like this won’t help! Let me out!”
“Your fever has broken now, and your body is weakened, so keeping you tightly wrapped is the right thing to do.”
Hillia wriggled, trying to escape from the blanket cocoon.
But it was entirely futile.
Her prolonged illness had left her body completely devoid of strength.
“Please unwrap me!”
“No.”
Arpard was resolute.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Hillia finally lost her temper.
“What is wrong with you?! What on earth are you upset about that you’re acting so petulant?”
Arpard fell silent for a moment before speaking.
His tone was flat, devoid of any emotion.
“Is that truly how you see me?”
“Pardon? See you as what?”
“A person who grows upset and sulks in front of someone who is suffering.”
“Well, I suppose… yes?”
Honestly, even if my mouth were twisted, I could never deny it.
To Hillia, Arpard was the Prince.
Always the employer who tested her, and the arrogant employee in return.
Simultaneously… a figure of caution, someone who might go mad and kill her at any moment.
Personal feelings, goodwill, and concern naturally came second to “work” between us.
Arpard would feel the same.
I believed that’s what he would want.
But his reaction was somehow strange.
Hillia finally managed to properly read the emotion that occupied the greatest share of Arpard’s expression.
It was concern.
‘What?’
An emotion so ill-suited to Arpard that it took me a moment to interpret and accept it.
In that interval, the emotion Arpard was expressing had already advanced one step further.

* * *

A voice that seemed somehow deflated flowed quietly through the air.
“It seems you’ve forgotten that I too am a person with red blood flowing through my veins.”
A blank.
The way his refined eyes curved downward with such melancholy was utterly strange.
The Arpard I knew would never wear such a gaze and expression.
Across all three regressions, I had never witnessed him like this.
“…Pardon?”
“Did it never occur to you that I simply wanted you to rest because I was concerned about you?”
What?
What?
Wait—is this man actually hurt right now?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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