The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 32

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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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Contract Marriage for Atilenta’s Revenge — Episode 32
I gazed down at the ring, which gleamed in perfect black without any special care, as if by nature.
I myself am not of this nation, so I had accepted Bwendia’s ring merely as a precaution.
Still, seeing such a meaningful ring, other suitors might have retreated entirely—though Tatras proved to be quite the exception.
The gentle carriage came to a halt. The moment I arrived at the Temple, I realized that what Henrik had explained was true.
For a place said to enshrine a legendary dragon, it was remarkably modest and quiet. There were no jewels or expensive ornaments of the sort common in the Royal Palace.
Though Henrik must surely have sent word of his imminent arrival, the Temple had not sent out musicians or knights to greet us.
So bringing Henrik along to this public gathering was the right choice after all.
I was glad I had resisted the urge to satisfy my curiosity by bringing Poznan along.
“Brother, Your Highness. Welcome.”
The moment I stepped into the Temple, where everything gleamed black, it was Barsha who greeted me warmly first.
For once, she was not holding a cat. Henrik approached with barely a sound and spoke softly.
“Barsha, you were here early. As diligent as ever. Resica, my regards.”
Resica accepted the greeting with the stiff posture of a golden candlestick.
“The Priesthood has just finished their preparations. Shall we head to the Prayer Chamber now?”
Since we had been meeting frequently of late, we did not exchange especially lengthy courtesies.
Though this was a royal gathering, the King still appeared to be unwell. Looking cautiously about, the Queen was nowhere to be seen.
I had made some effort to investigate Henrik’s parents, but with little to show for it. I had no desire to pry relentlessly into his private affairs.
Thus, wedged between the Prince and Princess, I entered the Prayer Chamber relatively quietly. Just then, Henrik whispered to me.
“There is nothing demanding about today’s proceedings. You need only pray for a time and listen carefully to what the Priesthood has to say.”
Barsha offered further explanation with a wink.
“Lady Bwendia also valued this hour greatly. Since it unfolds so quietly, you will find it quite comfortable, Your Highness.”
“Your Highness, I received the Prayer Text from Poznan on your behalf. It must be what you requested. I am grateful for both of your kindness.”
The Prayer Text I received from Poznan was not particularly difficult. As I bowed in gratitude, a faint smile escaped Henrik’s lips.
“I am pleased it has been of service to my consort.”
He was not the sort to glide through such occasions carelessly. Thanks to his preparation, there was more to what I had once heard from Poznan.
How deeply significant this nation’s religion held.
It wielded political strength, yet devoted itself entirely to the welfare of the people.
I found myself exhaling in genuine admiration. No matter how much the Priesthood was filled with those distant from the royal and noble houses, one might expect private ambitions to take root.
In the center of the Prayer Chamber stood several round tables. The garments of the priests already seated were distinctive—clean, loose-fitting white robes and black hats, from which long veils hung, obscuring their faces.
I took a seat beside Henrik. Soon, a measured and crystalline voice echoed through the Prayer Chamber.
“We welcome all who have come to share in the blessings of this winter, which Lady Bwendia tends with care.”
Prince Resica and Princess Barsha, as if accustomed to the ritual, immediately assumed a posture of prayer with hands clasped. I mimicked them, bowing my head slightly.
In that moment, Henrik leaned toward me and gently pressed my hands together more firmly.
“Your hands should be joined thus.”
His careful touch, given so softly, brushed even across my shoulders as he drew back.
“And bow your head a bit lower.”
It was an awkward yet warm gesture.
Though we had held hands at banquets under the guise of a married couple, being this close still felt unfamiliar.
The Prayer Chamber was so quiet that his deliberate kindness became somewhat conspicuous.
Ah, it was like that night.
But we are husband and wife, so such an action was natural. I managed my expression carefully, mustering composure to offer him a simple gesture of thanks.
He folded away that characteristic cold gaze and answered with a fresh smile.
“…Thus Lady Bwendia, in her compassion, ensures that across this vast land, throughout the winter, no one suffers in want….”
The priest continued in an even tone through a lengthy prayer, while I deliberately let my gaze wander. A window on one side of the Prayer Chamber opened outward, revealing the surrounding landscape clearly.
Despite recent donations by Resica and then Henrik and Barsha, the grounds remained orderly and pristine. There were no storehouses to hold grain or coins, so austere was this place.
It seemed that all resources entering here truly flowed not into the priests’ mouths, but to the people. Was that why Temple Dedication was spoken of as paramount?
When I ventured a quiet question while the priest continued his prayer, Henrik answered at once in a low voice.
“Your instinct is sound. The King knows this as well. It has always been so.”
I simply nodded quietly. If that were the case, I might not need to deliberate deeply on how Henrik should handle the Temple’s influence when he ascended the throne.
Even looking at the priests praying here made this clear. The handmaiden who had dressed me mentioned that gold was enjoyed only by the nobility, yet the priests here wore only white and black.
I slowly closed my eyes and reflected on the Black Dragon, Bwendia. Even after hearing Henrik’s explanations and reading accounts, there was still something I could not quite grasp.
Namely, Dragon Power—what force it was, what magic it wielded, I could not say with certainty.
Well, that was only natural.
What was certain was that the power felt here was entirely different from the Spirit Power I wielded through the mirror.
If I were to compare them: Spirit Power carried the scent of green grass, fragrant and light, while Dragon Power felt heavy as a solemn stone, with a darker resonance. Even staring up at the black ceiling of this Temple, it seemed like a night sky scattered with starlight.
Curious about what other clues there might be, I cautiously looked about until I spotted a statue placed by the Prayer Chamber window.
The statue bore no excess ornamentation—it was the very image of a dragon from a fairy tale. Yet it did not appear costly. At a glance, it was carved from wood.
Would I ever have the chance to touch Bwendia’s sacred relics? If so, I hoped they would be large and radiate an abundance of power.
I always wore the ring Bwendia that Henrik had given me, but it was not enough.
I want to know more, to feel more deeply.
I’ve never even set foot in the Teresia Forest, yet here I am wielding such magic thanks to my mother.
There will be other opportunities. I’m certain of it. Throughout the entire prayer ceremony, my thoughts kept returning to dragons and magic.

* * *
After sunset, I returned to the Royal Palace. I spent the evening reading a book Henrik had recommended to me some time before.
“Were you satisfied with your visit to the Temple?”
Henrik, his dark hair still damp from washing, asked with his customary ease. His voice was low as always, yet I answered without particular tension.
“Very much so. I’ve nearly finished the book you kindly suggested, Your Highness.”
Henrik approached with unhurried steps and settled into a seat across from me. Leaning back leisurely on the sofa, he carried himself with the same grace he always did.
“Is it proving helpful?”
I recalled what he had said to me in the Library not long ago. For some reason, he’d mistaken me for a talented mage and promised that if questions arose after reading this book, he would clarify them for me. Now seemed like the perfect moment to ask.
I set the book down and looked at him.
“Your Highness, according to this book, Dragon Descendants didn’t originally exist. I wanted to ask whether that’s actually true.”
He extended his long legs and crossed them with unhurried ease.
Then he parted his lips.
“Well, perhaps they existed in some distant foreign land. But fundamentally, dragons and humans are entirely different beings. It wouldn’t be a simple matter.”

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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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