The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 22

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

Atilenta’s Revenge Through a Contract Marriage Episode 22
The insurance I possessed was pitifully inadequate compared to what Henrik held. The Black Dragon Magic Ring alone was insufficient. It was magic I’d never known of, never experienced.
So then, relying on someone other than Henrik? That too seemed a fool’s notion.
I knew the truth. Only I could protect myself. Even my approach to Henrik—a man I scarcely understood—had been the result of magic I myself had wielded.
At the very least, the mirror my mother had left me could never deceive me with false information. That faith, at least, remained unshakeable.
Still, I believed I was making sound judgments about Henrik based on his conduct so far.
He honored his agreements, possessed proper understanding of marital virtue, and did not wield his blade recklessly out of vanity.
His reputation on the battlefield might well have sprung from a cold and cruel nature, but that was something I could not know now—nor was it important at present.
“Your Highness. The matter I first proposed to you remains unchanged.”
“I know, my dear. Rest yourself now. You’ve labored hard today. I’m curious to see how they’ll act tomorrow.”
“So am I.”
Henrik gave me a slight, absent nod and returned his attention to the documents without moving from his seat, reading through the remainder with deliberate care. Watching him, I retired to bed.
The Franciscian Delegation would remain in this country another day, scheduled to meet with members of the other royal houses. I weighed two matters carefully.
First, if tomorrow the Franciscian Delegation leaked information about diplomatic relations with foreign powers in the Northern Region to Lesischa and Barsha under the guise of peace, there would be considerable intelligence for me to glean.
Second, if Hersson, the delegation’s representative, or Satern’s son returned to their homeland, they would certainly convey all manner of information back—such as how well I was eating and living, or the subtle currents flowing between Henrik and Prince Lesischa.
What reaction, then, would Antonina and Selena have upon hearing such tales?
I truly was curious.

* * *
“Your Highness, look outside. The first snow is falling.”
Poznan spoke to me in an even tone as I sat at my vanity. I lifted my gaze to the mirror before me, regarding the pristine landscape framed in its glass.
“How beautiful it is.”
I spoke without pretense. I recalled my first days at the Royal Palace. Then, these halls had been adorned with autumn leaves.
From the marriage celebration feast through the delegation’s gatherings, and with all the time spent adapting to this place, the months had slipped past with startling swiftness. Already the season of snow had arrived.
Beyond the window, the world had turned to quiet white and black. The ancient dark stone walls and the pale falling snow, without any gaudy ornamentation, possessed an elegance and tranquility all their own.
Unbidden, I recalled the desolate season I had endured in the Kingdom of Franciscia—those days confined to a small, shabby room, when even the privilege of witnessing such a scene would have been a luxury.
“Your Highness, your complexion has brightened considerably,” Poznan continued, her voice gentle, unmarred by flattery.
“At the next reception, you shall have even finer rumors spoken of you.”
I swept a disinterested gaze over my reflection in the glass.
Whether it was Poznan’s careful and attentive care—given without ostentation—or whether the food here simply suited my palate, I had indeed gained some color to my cheeks.
Gone was that sickly pallor, the sharp angles of my wrists and legs. Even my hair, which had been brittle and coarse, now carried a healthy sheen.
“Then, Poznan—would a visit to the Temple also prove beneficial?”
Building my reputation here would require more than merely attending receptions as the prince’s consort. Appearing in other venues would certainly help.
Besides, I had reason enough to visit. Since Poznan remarked that my appearance had improved, I asked whether a Temple visit might enhance my standing.
“It would indeed. The royal house of Bwendofska has long held service to the Temple as its highest duty. The priests of Bwendia Temple do the same. In fact, the Temple is preparing an event soon—one that the Crown will sponsor, so Your Highness must certainly attend.”
I nodded. Before the event, I intended to gather as much information as I could. I had gleaned a few details about the religion here, but there was no study quite so effective as questioning those who lived it.
“If the royal house regards it with such importance, then it possesses considerable political influence?”
“Rather, it is sincerity and faithfulness toward Bwendia that weighs most heavily. The priests maintain entirely equal relations with one another. They are mainly those without ties to the crown or to powerful noble houses.”
I let out a thoughtful murmur, and Poznan promptly brought me a newspaper, pressing it into my hands.
“Your Highness. This will make it clearer.”
Since becoming my personal attendant, Poznan had faithfully brought me the newspaper and important news from society each morning. I accepted it naturally and scanned the front page.
The newspaper carried an account—with an accompanying illustration—of how Prince Lesischa had recently donated considerable gold and provisions to the Temple.
It also bore a priest’s words of gratitude that, thanks to this generosity, the poor and hungry during these cold months would lack for nothing.
“I understand now. Similar rumors circulated in Franciscia.”
“Yes, and here it is all the more pronounced. The Bwendia Temple does not directly insert itself into political gossip, nor does it openly champion any faction. Yet none can deny that the Temple holds true power.”
Indeed, those who wielded authority had no choice but to care deeply about their image among the people. Though the methods of succession might vary from realm to realm.
No matter how formidable a ruler, they could not ignore public sentiment or their nation’s faith. And in this land, where the mythology of the Black Dragon Bwendia was held in such reverence, this was doubly so.
Henrik, since returning from the battlefield, had devoted himself to strengthening the foundations of power here. I wondered what he would think upon seeing this newspaper featuring Lesischa so prominently.
Perhaps Lesischa was already planning what he would do at the upcoming Temple event. Making an identical donation would certainly be one approach.
My curiosity was satisfied swiftly enough.
That evening, the meal I shared with Henrik proved remarkably quiet.
It was never a gathering with many attendants, but this time there were only Henrik and myself, Commander Krakup, and Poznan. The moment silence settled over the dining room, I sensed instinctively that something was afoot.
“Is there something you wish to discuss, Your Highness?” I asked cautiously as I ate my salad.
Henrik set down his utensils with grace.
“My brother has lost a jewel he valued greatly. The royal household employs considerable staff. What would you do about it?”
Henrik’s voice and expression were no different from usual—calm and composed, as though nothing had occurred.
I did not ask how important or how secret this matter was.
Instead, I weighed the meaning behind his singling me out, dismissing all other servants. He was testing me again, certainly.
“The only people with access to that chamber would be the servants and attendants of Princess Barsha, Your Highness. I wonder why you have not questioned them all directly.”

As far as I knew, beating subordinates was the most efficient method for those in power to keep their underlings in line.
Of course, I’d never witnessed Henrik or Barsha striking a servant in such a manner, but it was customary for masters to conduct such business in secluded places. Everything I’d experienced suggested as much.
“If many servants have come and gone, it will take some time, but it’s possible.”
“They’re people my sister selected.”
I nodded lightly. This meant Henrik had refrained from interfering greatly with those Barsha employed until now.
Arranging my thoughts quickly, I answered respectfully.
“Your Highness, I would like to present two options.”

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