Standard Contract Guidelines for a Fraudulent Marriage - Chapter 21

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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 21

Though Loewenstein spoke in an angry voice, Princess Claria’s expression remained utterly unmoved.

She had always done exactly as she pleased in every matter.

While such a reaction was hardly surprising given that history, Loewenstein found it utterly intolerable.

No—intolerable was too mild a word.

The primary reason he had undertaken the false marriage to Adelia was precisely to rid himself of Princess Claria.

To disabuse her of the iron certainty that he would marry her, he had needed the title of a married man.

‘Yet here she is, and reason simply does not reach her.’

Princess Claria did not know their marriage was false.

He could only wish it to be true.

He had neither evidence nor certainty.

“The very fact that you two are married makes no sense.”

Watching her dig in her heels so stubbornly, he felt his childhood friendship with her turning to ash—he was sick of it.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

At Loewenstein’s question, Princess Claria’s eyes widened.

“Think about it. The woman you married—what was her name again? In any case, do you really think I haven’t investigated her? From a house ruined by gambling, isn’t she? Then she’s a commoner.”
“Is there a law against a noble marrying a commoner?”

At that, Claria favored Loewenstein with a smile of pitying sympathy.

Her patronizing attitude emerged in full.

“Marriage is between people of equal rank, my dear.”
“I’d prefer you not use the childhood nickname.”

Claria, as if deaf to his words, fanned herself languidly.

“The House of Insel is a distinguished family of merit. Can you imagine such a house keeping a stray cat picked up from who knows where? Does that sound reasonable to you?”
“Why shouldn’t one keep a stray cat? Besides, Adelia is no cat. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult my wife in such terms.”
“Ah, Adelia. That’s right, that was her name. Tell me—what on earth do you think makes a commoner girl who will only drain your family’s coffers willing to marry you?”
“Adelia asks nothing of me. I fell for her, that’s all.”
“You’re not seriously saying that?”

Claria burst into loud laughter. For all her fairy-like beauty, her behavior was that of a common hooligan.

Loewenstein found this conversation increasingly tiresome. He had had his fill of being dragged along by Claria’s willfulness even in childhood.

There was nothing more to discuss.

Loewenstein straightened his sleeve cuff and rose from his seat.

“I didn’t tell you to get up. Where are you going?”
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but I have a bureaucratic meeting.”
“Skip it. It’s just a bunch of old men talking pointless drivel anyway.”

Loewenstein’s laugh was bitter.

“I find it hard to believe such words come from one destined to lead this nation.”

His voice dropped suddenly, laced with a cutting edge.

The smile that played at his lips was nearly contemptuous.

Seeing his sneer, Claria flinched inwardly, though she masked it at once by changing the subject.

“Promise me you’ll dance with me at my birthday ball.”
“I cannot make such a promise.”
“Then your wife will have a rather difficult time.”

At those words, Loewenstein’s temples finally darkened with suppressed fury.

“Don’t you dare lay a finger on Adelia.”

His voice carried a chill that seemed to cut through the air like a winter wind.

Seeing the way his finger pointed at her—a gesture that promised no mercy—Claria laughed airily.

“How extraordinary—all this fury over a single girl like her? Well, fine. Just dance with me at the ball and nothing will happen. It’s simple, isn’t it?”
“My wife will not be attending the princess’s ball. I have no wish to become the subject of vicious rumors for dancing with another woman in her absence.”
“Bring her. That’s an order.”
“Enough, Claria. My wife is not someone who comes at your command or leaves at your whim.”
“Not someone I command? She must obey when I command it. I am the princess of this realm. Only Mother and Father stand above me. If your wife will not attend, I shall have her brought by royal decree. You know Father grants my every wish.”

Loewenstein’s face darkened visibly.

With eyes closed, wrestling down his rage, he turned sharply without so much as a farewell to Claria.

He could not bear to look at her face any longer.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased to concern yourself with my affairs.”

As he pivoted, his expression grew so severe that not a needle could have fit through the cracks.

Claria watched him go, stifling an immature giggle.

Even his anger suited him.

Behind him came Claria’s ingenuous—or rather, deliberately contrived—voice.

“I simply must see what manner of woman has you so bewitched!”
The door slammed shut with a bang.

Once Loewenstein was entirely gone, Claria fanned herself more briskly, pulling her lips into a smile.

“Did you think I would simply let you go? That wretched girl could be exiled from the kingdom on my word alone, Loewenstein. Remember that.”

She called her lady’s maid back into the chamber and ordered tea.

The ease with which she savored her drink spoke volumes.

She radiated an unshakeable certainty: who could possibly stand in her way?

***

Thanks to Professor Siern’s kindness, Adelia had the entire afternoon free for independent research, yet her spirits remained low.

All her hypotheses had come to nothing.

The ninth fungus specimen—now christened Holly—had failed to digest the complex acidic compounds Adelia had hoped for.

“Ugh…”

Adelia clutched her head in frustration at yet another failure.

She slumped in her chair, staring listlessly at the glass dish bearing the fungal colony.

“If you can only digest simple acidic compounds, there’s no way I can make you practical.”

Acidic soil arose from various causes, and the acidic compounds within it were invariably complex.

If Holly could not neutralize all those various acidic components, developing this organism alone would not fulfill her purpose.

To create fertilizer that would allow farming on acidic land, neutralization capacity was paramount.

“What else could possibly be needed?”

Adelia posed the question to the fungi, though they offered no answer.

She rested her chin on her hand, studying the microscope intently before removing her goggles.

Having worn them all day, her eyes ached and swam dizzily.

Tap. Tap.

Someone knocked at the Research Laboratory door.

“Come in, Professor.”

Adelia assumed it must be Siern.

But the moment the door opened and she turned, she started in surprise.

“You—senior!”

The person at the door was Loewenstein.

He smiled with amusement at her startled expression, then shrugged.

“I’m not a professor. Am I allowed in?”
“O-of course you are! Please, just be careful around the microscope and the workbench. If you’ll come this way—”

As Adelia guided him, she suddenly froze, her eyes widening as the obvious question struck her.

“Wait—what brings you here?”

Loewenstein touched his lips lightly to her cheek and spoke.

“I’ve been waiting eagerly for my wife to leave work, yet she shows no signs of intending to.”

At that, Adelia gasped and spun to look at the clock.

It was well past six—nearly seven.

“Goodness, I’m so sorry. I was so absorbed in my research I lost track of time. Have you been waiting long? Just give me a moment to tidy up.”
“Take your time. I’ll wait.”

As Adelia bustled about gathering her things, she glanced back at Loewenstein with a faint, bashful smile.

Watching her tidy up, Loewenstein felt a smile bloom unbidden at his lips.

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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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