The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 14

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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 Revenge Through a Contract Marriage — Episode 14
Lord Krakow smoothed the furrow between his brows, as though attempting to relax his rigid expression. He had a growing suspicion that his master had always intended to assign a personal attendant to her from the start.
His master offered his younger sister—who had never worked in the palace—as a lady’s maid without the slightest hint of deliberation, speaking as though the matter were already decided.
The protection and surveillance of this foreign woman were being conducted with meticulous care.
Then why, he wondered, would his master insist on assigning a personal attendant now? Had one been provided before this important banquet, the small commotion of this evening would never have occurred.
“Your Highness, if I may be so bold as to ask… were you indeed referring to a small creature, a puppy?”
Lord Krakow asked the question again, though he believed he already understood his master’s meaning.
“Who knows? Perhaps Varsha’s cat? Yes, doesn’t she resemble that one quite closely?”
Henrik paid the knight no attention, still leisurely enjoying the music that enhanced the atmosphere of the Banquet Hall.
The prince cared little for the knight’s reaction. He did not believe his own assessment to be mistaken. She was bold, daring, and prone to saying intriguing things.
Henrik knew only the cats his sister Varsha kept. Small, sharp, and elegant creatures.
According to Varsha, simply observing a cat was enough to bring joy.
Indeed, she did resemble a cat in that regard. Though one would hardly expect anyone foolish enough to cross swords with a woman of the Viauvie Family at such a banquet.
From their very first meeting, she had displayed such formidable will that he couldn’t imagine her shrinking back at mere jealousy and subtle provocation.
Even had he warned her beforehand of the Viauvie Family’s considerable power, that woman would likely have thrown down her challenge regardless.
What she had demanded during their wedding night was of a similar nature. Though his contract with her contained no clause regarding rivals, Henrik found the matter sufficiently intriguing to grant her request.
“…Yes. I suspect the head of the Viauvie Family will not take this matter seriously.”
Lord Krakow made no effort to conceal his tepid expression. There was no chance whatsoever that the patriarch of Viauvie would openly antagonize the Crown over such an affair.
That man would surely offer polite excuses—that his young and beautiful daughter had merely been acting with sincere candor. Whether he would move against the princess through shadowy channels was another matter entirely.
“He is that sort of man. His daughter, and she as well, proved rather forthright. Such a thing was entirely plausible.”
Henrik let out a soft chuckle. Should anyone dare suggest he call her a cat, she would likely rise up in protest at once.
As Krakow observed his master’s undiminished smile, he tilted his head slightly to one side. The knight’s expression had fully relaxed now, blending seamlessly with the banquet’s atmosphere.
The knight understood that his prince harbored certain vulnerabilities. Even on the battlefield, the prince had not forgotten to send gifts to Princess Varsha. Yet since that woman ultimately remained beneath the prince’s station, there seemed little cause for particular concern.
Only now, after witnessing this affair unfold, did the knight fully comprehend his master’s intention in assigning a personal attendant.
His master had left her to her own devices today precisely to test her. That she had succeeded once more in capturing the prince’s interest was remarkable. He found himself thinking: what a curious woman she was.

* * *
The view beyond the Terrace of the Brwendofska royal Banquet Hall was, in crude terms, magnificent.
“Ahh… how refreshing.”
The thick doors and curtains of the Terrace muffled the noise of the Banquet Hall, and the landscape spread before my eyes—autumn leaves mingled with verdant growth—made it feel as though I stood in the heart of a forest.
Leaning weakly against the railing, I surrendered myself to the cool breeze and tranquil atmosphere, my eyes pressed shut. It was precisely the balm I needed for the turbulent emotions Tatra had stirred within me.
Even as I did so, I knew I was merely venting my anger at an innocent person. Something within me whispered: could I truly face her with confidence if she came as a rival?
The answer was plainly no. My words had been nothing but pretense. My contract with Henrik contained no mention of rivals—it was far simpler than that.
Moreover, I had no real stake in whether I became his mistress or concubine…
“Ah, how exhausting.”
I pressed my throbbing temple gently. I needed to sharpen my ability to respond appropriately to unexpected situations.
How I wished I could have read the future through Magic before this evening’s events unfolded.
But having coughed up blood recently, I dared not attempt such a strenuous feat.
The most pressing matter was completing the task Henrik had set for me—identifying and capturing the spy. So absorbed had I been in that mission that I had failed to consider any other possibilities.
“Sigh…”
I longed to let my sigh dissolve into the cool autumn wind.
The fortune to wield Magic had been granted to me solely through my mother’s abilities—and I had never even encountered a Spirit, let alone possessed true faith in them. I felt as though I was squandering even that gift.
“Had I used it properly, I could have handled this evening with far greater grace. For the sake of my reputation, my honor…”
I bit my lip hard. Enough regret. If I was to elevate my standing in this place, I needed to think far more carefully about what lay ahead.
First, I would consider employing Magic to read the future before any such important events in the future.
I glanced down at the ancient-seeming Ring adorning my hand. It bore a subtle, mysterious gleam that defied simple description as merely a black gemstone.
“…What magical abilities did Dragons possess?”
I called to mind the legendary creature woven into the history of this land: the Black Dragon Bwendia.
The kingdom of Francia, where I had spent my days, was one that revered the Goddess Pria, so I had heard little of Dragons.
“The Black Dragon, Bwendia…”
I spoke the name softly. That Dragon would certainly possess an appearance as dark as its epithet suggested. Beyond that, I knew almost nothing.
Surely a Dragon would wield Magic far beyond what any mortal dared attempt. My imagination struck a wall there and could advance no further.
This world harbored transcendent beings beyond the divine. Dragons and Spirits, foremost among them.
Humans worshipped such transcendent beings, borrowed their strength, and thereby performed extraordinary Magic.
“Wait… could it be…?”
A sudden thought brushed across my mind.
If I had inherited my mother’s abilities and could wield Magic by borrowing the strength of a Spirit I had only heard of in tales—might I not, with sufficient skill, borrow the Dragon’s power as well?
“I should look into this.”
I straightened my listless form with renewed resolve. Rather than dwelling in vain regret and self-recrimination, it was far more efficient and worthwhile to pursue such an inquiry.

* * *
“Your Highness. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Poznan of the Krakow Family. I shall devote myself entirely to serving you as your personal attendant.”
The next day, I studied the woman who had come to pay her respects. She was striking—dark hair shot through with hints of red, her grey eyes sharp and penetrating.
The Krakow Family—they were the noble house of the knight who served Henrik so closely. Poznan, bearing an uncanny resemblance to that knight in black armor, seemed almost certainly sent by Henrik himself.
I hadn’t requested anyone, and I had no prior connection to the Krakow house.
It was thoughtful of Henrik to assign me someone from a family he trusted—his deputy’s own kin—but I felt compelled to gauge who she truly was.
There was always the possibility she harbored some affection for Henrik and might harbor resentment toward me. I had no patience for that sort of complication.
“Welcome, Poznan. Will you tell me—what is your first impression of me?”
Poznan presented me with several newspapers, as if she had prepared them in advance, her posture impeccably respectful. I settled into the soft sofa and scanned through the pages. The front pages were brimming with coverage of yesterday’s anniversary banquet.
“Your Highness has won much admiration for adhering flawlessly to Brwendofska’s customs, despite hailing from abroad. Please set your mind at ease on that account.”

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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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