The doctor dared not make a definite statement and said cautiously, “At the very least, there’s a glimmer of hope.”

“Good, good…” Mrs. Howard was so moved that she shed tears. “Henry, did you hear that? There’s a turn for the better in your illness.”

Henry Clark showed no particular reaction, only saying, “I heard.”

The doctor added, “Madam, Young Howard has just woken up and still needs to rest quietly.”

Mrs. Howard wiped her tears and said, “Then Mother won’t disturb your rest—where is Emily? Where did Young Lord go?”

Everyone looked at each other in confusion. William Carter stepped forward and said, “Madam.”

Mrs. Howard took his hand and smiled, “Emily, ever since you married into the marquis’ household, Henry’s illness has improved. The Grand Preceptor truly has divine foresight; you are Henry’s savior. We’ll be counting on you to look after Henry from now on.”

Henry Clark lifted his head and looked at William Carter.

William Carter replied with a faint smile, “Rest assured, Madam, I will do my best to take care of Young Howard.”

The old maid beside Mrs. Howard teased, “Oh, Young Lord, you shouldn’t call him Young Howard like the rest of us—you should call him ‘husband’—”

Everyone burst into laughter, and no one noticed William Carter’s hand quietly clenching inside the sleeve of his wedding robe.

The crowd dispersed, and the bridal chamber returned to silence, the red candles nearly burned down to their ends.

Henry Clark lay on the bed in silence, his brows sometimes furrowing, sometimes relaxing, as if struggling to recall something.

William Carter couldn’t be bothered with him. He stood by the window, gazing at the unfamiliar bright moon outside, as if draped in a layer of moonlight.

No one knew how much time had passed before Henry Clark let out a long breath and said, “Buddy… oh, wait—beauty, come here.”

William Carter replied coolly, “Who are you calling?”

Henry Clark laughed, “Is there anyone else here?”

William Carter turned around. The flickering candlelight cast a faint blush on his cheeks, and the tear mole at the corner of his eye was as striking as a peony.

He was beautiful, but seemed to have a rather bad temper.

Henry Clark coughed twice and nodded, signaling William Carter to sit. William Carter only stood at the bedside, keeping an arm’s length from Henry Clark.

“I was just sorting out my thoughts,” Henry Clark said calmly, showing none of the urgency from when he first woke up.

William Carter said indifferently, “What you’re thinking has nothing to do with me.”

“It does, a bit. Because what I’m thinking about is you.” Henry Clark had only spoken a few sentences before he was already running out of strength, his face pale. “If I had come a few days earlier, I definitely wouldn’t have agreed to this marriage, making you spend your days as a living widow.”

William Carter’s expression was numb. “What’s the point of saying this now?”

“True. Now we’re already married, the ceremony’s been done, and the whole capital knows we’re husband and wife.”

William Carter let out a cold laugh. “No, they don’t.”

“Hm?”

William Carter said mockingly, “We didn’t perform the wedding ceremony. You were unconscious the whole time—I bowed to a big rooster instead.”

Henry Clark snorted lightly, “That works too. Well, it’s just as well we didn’t; you don’t have to take this marriage seriously. I won’t live more than half a year anyway, so you’ll just have to put up with it for a while. When I’m gone, you can take my inheritance back to The Carter Family and live as you please—it’s not such a bad deal.”

William Carter was taken aback, suspicious. “Is there really such a good thing?”

“There is. But how much inheritance you can take home depends on your own ability.” Henry Clark leaned against the soft pillow, his tone lazy. “With this broken body of mine, I’m not going to play at household intrigue. The waters of The Howard Family are too deep for me—I just want to muddle along, eat and wait for death, be a salted fish.”

Chapter 2

William Carter didn’t fully understand what Henry Clark meant, but he got the general idea. Henry Clark could talk about his own impending death so lightly—was he really not afraid to die?

After all, Henry Clark was a sick man, and holding on until now was already his limit. He settled back into bed and said, “Beauty, you…”

William Carter snapped, “Stop calling me that.”

Because of his looks, William Carter had been harassed by lecherous men more than once while studying away from home. For those who called him “beauty” or “darling” at the drop of a hat, he only wanted to take out his personally concocted poison—which could force people to shut up—and stuff it into their mouths.

However, although Henry Clark called him “beauty,” he didn’t stare at him like a lecher, so he wasn’t completely hopeless.

“So fierce. I compliment you and you’re not even happy?” Henry Clark said with his eyes closed. “Fine, I’m going to rest now. Suit yourself.”

After all the commotion, it was already past midnight. There really was nothing left to do but sleep.

Earlier, the maid had already helped Henry Clark out of his wedding robe and wiped his hands and face. But William Carter was still dressed in his wedding attire and crown, with a floral mark painted between his brows and his makeup not yet removed.

Yes, he had worn makeup today. Although, at his insistence, the bridal attendant only drew his brows and painted his lips, his face was already strikingly beautiful, and with these touches, his lips were as red as fire and his features as if painted. Others couldn’t stop praising his looks, but it made his heart race with anxiety. What he pressed between his lips felt less like rouge and more like a shackle. The ones who put this shackle on him were the entire The Howard Family and… the imperial family.

He would remember this grudge.

And that bridal attendant who insisted he use ointment, making him uncomfortable in certain places—he would remember her, too.