The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 35

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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 for Revenge – Episode 35
The handmaiden offered me constant, artless praise that I was beautiful, yet the figure reflected in the mirror remained somehow foreign to me.
But there was no leisure for lingering in such thoughts.
“Ah, Your Highness Atilenta. An invitation has arrived from the Francisia Kingdom.”
I accepted the letter with my lips pressed firmly together. The gilt-edged Invitation Letter bore the royal seal, as if to emphasize its official nature.
Setting aside the courteous phrasing, the message was straightforward: on a day specially blessed by the Goddess Pria, the kingdom would hold a gathering to which prominent foreign dignitaries were being invited.
As I reviewed the contents with a deliberately grave expression, Poznan draped shimmering pieces of jewelry before me.
“Though I know Your Highness attaches great importance to this matter, with the year’s end approaching, the noble families are preparing for a hunt—I believe it prudent to give that precedence first.”
Her voice was far too measured.
“The King will be attending.”
As though it were nothing. Yet it could hardly be otherwise.
“At last… I shall have the chance to meet him. He seems to have recovered quite well.”
I folded the Invitation Letter and placed it on the dressing table, steeling my resolve.
Though I was not one to dismiss that wretched kingdom’s affairs entirely, observing the current King—a man whose face I had found so difficult to bear—was equally vital.
During breakfast with Henrik that morning, I informed him in advance that I would be using Magic for this occasion.
“…And so I intend to exercise my abilities before Your Highness departs for the hunt.”
Henrik regarded me steadily with those perpetually lucid violet eyes.
“I trust you entirely. Oh—did the handmaiden mention it? The King has nearly overcome his Illness. A most auspicious matter.”
Though I gave my assent, I noted that his voice carried no particular strain.
“It has taken quite long for you to come here and greet the King.”
This composure was something he maintained habitually, yet I found it curious all the same. After all, it concerned his own father.
“My half-brother has surely already paid his respects—he visited often, even during the King’s confinement. Today, it seems the King has made time to receive you as well.”
Listening to his matter-of-fact explanation, I was struck anew by the reality of my own “family.”
Then again, the world was hardly filled with harmonious families. Even Henrik was far from close with his half-brother, nor was his bond with his father without its complications.
“Come with me.”
I had half-considered reading this meeting through the Mirror as well, but no such opportunity presented itself. The moment I finished breakfast and Poznan had finished adjusting my dress, I was obliged to follow him at once.

* * *
The moment I crossed the threshold of the Reception Room within the Royal Palace, guided by an attendant dressed with meticulous care.
“Mother… you were here. Have you been well these days?”
Standing beside Henrik, I immediately lowered my head. Poznan’s recent devotion to my appearance had indeed borne fruit. Today, I would meet even the Queen.
“How fortunate that the King has ventured beyond his Chamber. I too must pay my respects. You completed your Marriage Ceremony without incident? …It seems Barsha has not come.”
Hearing the Queen’s voice—devoid of any warmth—I felt a distinctly strange sensation.
If she is the only Atilenta in this place, why does she make no mention of Lesha? Though he may not be her blood son, surely propriety would demand it?
“Because Bwendia has been looking after me, there were no difficulties. It was a day brimming with blessings, Mother. Barsha is occupied at present and will come another day, but I do hope you will speak with my wife as well.”
Henrik naturally enclosed my hand in his, drawing me toward the Queen. I executed an impeccable curtsy.
“I present myself. I am Atilenta, from Francisia. Your Majesty, it is a great honor to meet the most noble and beautiful lady in the realm.”
“Raise your head. You are my son’s wife, and yet I have not even seen your face until now.”
The moment I lifted my eyes to meet hers, I understood at once.
Henrik always carried the bearing of a prince born in Legitimate Birth, and it was clear he had inherited it entirely from his mother.
Her jaw and lips set in sharp, firm lines, she was undeniably beautiful, her hair dark as the night sky. It was easy to deduce she was a woman who had once commanded society’s drawing rooms at her pleasure.
“How wonderful that my son has built a household with one so lovely.”
There was no room for any false impression that she had accepted me favorably. The tone in which she assessed me remained unfailingly cold.
“For Your Majesty to speak thus—I am quite at a loss for words. It is thanks to His Highness that I have been brought into this place, and I find myself living in what feels like a dream.”
She matched the impression I had formed. She was a mother neither particularly gentle with her son nor with her daughter-in-law.
Though we maintained a somewhat formal conversation, she did not appear to regard me with any unusual wariness.
“Henrik, go see the King first. Your mother will wait here.”
As the Queen took her tea, she gave Henrik an elegant nod. There was but one way in which she did not resemble Henrik: her eyes were not violet, but a luminous gold.
“As you wish, Mother.”
Because he had not appeared in official proceedings and no one had mentioned him, I had suspected the King was gravely ill. Yet now that I beheld her in person, she appeared quite well, making my earlier assumptions seem foolish.
“Atilenta, spend a moment with your mother. I shall return shortly.”
Henrik, mindful of the Queen, saw to my comfort with gentleness before proceeding without hesitation into the inner chambers. Left alone with the Queen, I sat in the sudden, heavy silence that descended.
Pretending to sip my tea, I observed her more carefully. She was simply impassive—a queen bearing Henrik’s own cold first impression.
Had even this visit to the King been performed out of mere duty?
She did not speak to me further. I found this somewhat puzzling.
It occurred to me that this opportunity might allow me to discern what she had been doing, what her political standing was—to gain firm answers to such questions.

* * *
The King sat propped against the bed. The moment Henrik entered, he dismissed all attendants and guards in his service.
In the stillness, only ornaments of black marble, ornate curtains, and furniture gleamed with light.
The king, who had been watching Henrik standing motionless, slowly opened his mouth.
“So you’ve taken a woman of lowborn status as your wife.”
Henrik spoke in a voice remarkably flat and subdued.
“I needed her, so I brought her in.”
“I shall have to observe this myself. As it happens, an occasion will present itself soon enough. How fortunate.”
Henrik unconsciously smoothed down his eyebrow, which had risen in a skewed slant.
What exactly was supposed to be fortunate?
He would have preferred the king not meddled at all.
Whether returning from the battlefield or bringing a wife from a foreign land, the king always used his illness as an excuse to remain here — and now, suddenly, he was going to offer his judgment on the 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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