The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 13

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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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Atilenta’s Contract Marriage: Revenge 013
I studied Henrik, watching how ill-suited he seemed with Tatra, and tried to guess what lay beneath the surface.
Henrik was a man with ambitions to command that vast battlefield. He did not merely dream of the moment he would ascend to this nation’s throne—he yearned for something beyond even that.
To my thinking, Tatra’s family clearly possessed considerable authority. For a man nursing such ambitions, it was common sense that his wife’s relatives must not grow too powerful.
He had brought me as his wife to be used in war, so casting aside a woman he had once been close to was equally justifiable, equally common sense.
“Lady of Biaubi. If you favor gentle men, I happen to know a fine fellow I could introduce you to.”
That was precisely common sense. The virtues of marriage that I knew held true here as well.
Without thinking, I clenched both fists beneath the table—trying to suppress the anger and resentment that rose up at the thought of those people Tatra had reminded me of.
“He’s a trustworthy officer, so if you wish, I shall arrange an introduction.”
I had said nothing, yet Tatra’s lips trembled slightly as she gazed at me. The reproach and jealousy in her eyes were so transparently honest that I found myself almost envying her for it.
No—it was not merely her sincerity that I envied.
“Your Highness… how could you speak such words? My father still has not found a suitable match, and he keeps me close like a bird in his palm…….”
Tatra faltered, her words trailing off in consternation. Though her expression showed hurt, the meaning beneath was unyielding. Her heart was set on one man, and she had no eye for another.
That was why she watched me so carefully. Frankly, I found it absurd.
“I did wish to ask, Your Highness—how did you come to meet the Princess?”
I fidgeted absently with the Rose Ornament the head maid had recommended, now pinned in my hair.
I was about to change the subject, driven by that rising discomfort, when—
“Lady of Biaubi. That is between us two, so your curiosity will have to remain unsatisfied.”
Henrik did not so much as sigh, treating her with unrelenting coldness.
“Best to finish your meal first.”
My thoughts did not settle easily, yet I felt gratitude toward him. Henrik was merely being true to our arrangement, but I was reaping its benefits all the same.
I too deliberately sipped my wine as though perfectly at ease, then spoke.
“This hour grows so lively. Your Highness Henrik.”
And I offered Tatra a slight, measured smile of goodwill.
“His Highness requires me at his side, so that is why I remain here, Lady of Biaubi.”
This is wasted emotion, Atilenta. Even knowing it, I spoke those words to Tatra.
Perhaps this was fitting conduct for a crown princess. If I showed myself wary of a rival, our bond would appear stronger in others’ eyes.
Yet the unexpectedness of it all had left my mind tangled. I was rationalizing myself without knowing the truth.
Even so, I observed Henrik once more. His expression remained unchanged. As always, he kept his composed lips and calm amethyst eyes, as though nothing had occurred.
He was a man who could witness chaos and remain untouched.
Recalling the words he had spoken when he gave me the ring, I resolved to be bolder.
I lifted my ringed hand and gently clasped his, deliberately displaying the Ring of Bwendia he had given me.
“If you truly wish it, I could become the Prince’s concubine, his mistress.”
“I—what? What did you say?”
“You’re so bold even now. I merely speak plainly. Why not ask His Highness yourself? It matters little to me, in truth.”
As I spoke, I leaned my body slightly toward Henrik, as a wife rests against her husband’s shoulder.
Tatra surely understood my meaning: such a creature as you could become his mistress and I would not care. I am so certain of his affection for me that I can afford to dismiss you entirely.
Naturally, Tatra’s gentle, gracious mask shattered at once.
“Your—Your Highness, how could you speak thus—”
The refined atmosphere of the royal table, maintained among the members of the court, froze in an instant. Yet I pressed on.
“I do recommend against frowning. Others might misunderstand—take you for petulant and difficult. Though I know well you are nothing of the sort, I assure you.”
Tatra’s face flushed visibly. Watching her reaction, I rose slowly from my seat.
“Your Highness Henrik, Your Highness Lesitcha, Princess Barsha—might I withdraw to the Terrace for some air? The excellent food has left me quite satisfied. I would be grateful if you would permit it.”
“You may. Go, Atilenta.”
Henrik nodded first. Both Lesitcha and Barsha signaled their approval. I bowed immediately and turned to leave, sparing Tatra only a glance of acknowledgment before I departed the room.
The moment I was beyond their sight, my smile vanished entirely.
Ah, I had done the very thing Selena would have done.
The realization left a bitter taste. Would Selena have felt the same? No—she could not have.
Only then did I glance out through the window. It was midday. The grand feasts of this nation, I had learned, began at lunch rather than evening—a curious custom indeed.
I wondered if I ought to acquire a taste for this country’s wine to match such peculiar customs. I took a glass from the servant’s tray and slipped out onto the Terrace.

* * *
The meal with the royal family had concluded. At the heart of the great hall, the royal orchestra played. Henrik watched the dancers moving freely, listened to the lively, spirited music, and smiled. As he drank the wine his aide poured for him, he seemed a man thoroughly enjoying the festivities.
“I’ve heard that even among dogs, the smaller ones tend to be more temperamental. There’s truth in that, wouldn’t you say, Captain?”
Krakup, who stood behind Henrik, pressed his forehead with a stern expression.
The head of the Biaubi Family possessed considerable influence. In councils where ministers gathered, his voice carried considerable weight. Krakup thought of the woman his lord had married. She came from a foreign land and might not have understood what manner of family Biaubi truly was—that could explain his words.
Whether Henrik had known or not, the fact remained: he had needlessly made an enemy. Yet his master, Henrik, merely gazed at the scene with an amused expression, as though regarding a small creature’s tantrum as no more than a minor amusement.
The knight offered his lord candid counsel.
“Your Highness. The Princess now has a rival. Some responsibility for that lies with you.”
“I know. What would you suggest, Captain Krakup?”
Lord Krakup wondered whether this too fell within Prince Henrik’s calculations, and stifled a sigh.
“……Allow me to assign my younger sister as her personal attendant. She excels at such matters.”
Henrik replied still wearing that leisurely smile.
“She seems capable enough without a dedicated attendant.”
He spoke as though indifferent to the knight’s concerns.
“Since she is a princess, it is proper that she have attendants befitting her station.”
“Wherever did she learn court protocol here? Remarkable, really. One wonders.”
Henrik turned over in his mind what she must have learned in her homeland. As a princess from one kingdom and formerly wife to a duke, she had evidently acquired quite refined accomplishments.
“Indeed. Your Highness conducts herself admirably now, but with just a touch more refinement, you would be utterly beyond reproach.”
Henrik raised a glass of wine darker than his own eyes and drank with deliberate leisure.
“You are right, Lord Krakup.”
For a woman enjoying the status of the Krakup Family to enter the royal household as an attendant required the household head’s recommendation or consent—namely, the permission of Henrik’s knight, Lord Krakup.
“Your sister would be trustworthy.”

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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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