The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 40

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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: A Contract Marriage – Episode 040
Even if I tried to rationalize it—that Henrik had plenty of other people to handle this task efficiently without me—the excuse rang hollow.
Apart from those out hunting, the Refuge was filled with young ladies and noblewomen from various houses, along with their attendants and knights.
Everyone seemed at leisure, exchanging conversation or enjoying refreshments. I found a seat and pretended to sip tea.
“Are you not bored, Your Highness?”
Barsha approached me, offering a pie still steaming with warmth. I accepted it gratefully, and instead of exchanging the usual pleasantries, I found myself asking after the cat she always carried with her.
“Thank you for thinking of me, Princess. Tell me, where might Marie be? I realize I haven’t had the chance to properly greet her yet.”
Barsha’s face lit up with obvious delight.
“Marie doesn’t much care for venturing this far from home. But Your Highness is always welcome to visit my palace whenever you wish to see her, so please don’t feel too disappointed.”
As I sipped the Dadian Fruit Tea a servant quietly brought, Barsha expressed a keener curiosity toward me.
“This is your first time here, isn’t it? Have you ever tried hunting before? I’ve been wondering about it for a while now.”
“Ah, I see. Thanks to your kindness, Princess, I haven’t found this place too unfamiliar, fortunately. Since this is my first such gathering, I’ve been looking forward to it quite eagerly.”
“Then shall we go out together now?”
My eyes widened. Her bold suggestion seemed to call for honesty rather than an affected composure.
“Are you certain that would be proper, Princess?”
I quickly searched my memory. Hunting was the exclusive domain of leisured noblemen—at least, that had been my experience in Francia.
“I’ve often come to this forest with my brother. Don’t you think it would be amusing to observe up close which is the better hunter—Henrik or Resicha?”
There was no refusing Barsha’s subtly posed question. She summoned a knight with practiced ease and left the tent without hesitation, bringing neither additional attendants nor supplies with her.
“My brother must have headed this way.”
As the knights accompanying her parted the undergrowth, Barsha moved gracefully forward without a pause.
Watching her point the way with such certainty, anyone could see how familiar she was with Henrik.
“There’s the hunter we were looking for. Henrik!”
In the quiet forest, Barsha’s cheerful voice broke the silence. Among the towering trees that seemed to pierce the sky, Henrik recognized us and strode over.
“Atilenta coming all the way out here with you? What’s the occasion, Barsha?”
I had no excuse to offer. Henrik had clearly guessed that Barsha had brought me along.
Yet instead of reproaching me, he smoothly adjusted the bow he held, as though this were routine.
“There’s no occasion, really. I was just restless sitting idle. Besides, this place is familiar to me too,” I said, keeping my tone light.
“Fair enough. It’ll be more entertaining with company.”
I offered no further protest, instead smiling with eager curiosity.
What fortune. I’d been too anxious to settle at the Refuge—couldn’t even taste the sweetness of the Apple Pie or tea Barsha had offered. I made a mental note to thank her properly later, then followed where Henrik and Barsha led.
The forest remained quiet, punctuated only by the cries of beasts, the twang of bowstrings, and the clatter of armored knights.
Henrik loosed several arrows with practiced skill. My observations, watching him, were painfully ordinary. He shoots well. Nothing more stirred in me.
“This should be enough. Let’s head back to the horses.”
“I thought you’d hunt longer than this,” Barsha said, her smile that of a hopeful girl rather than a whining child, beaming at the prospect of his prowess.
“We can go again next time, Barsha.”
When Henrik turned toward where the horses were tied, I could see the game piled nearby.
I examined the arrows scattered about. I detected no blood-stained prey, no panting of dying beasts.
Were these Henrik’s arrows?
In that moment, I grasped something wrong.
There was no Royal Family insignia.
My mouth went dry instantly, and I swallowed hard. I approached Henrik quickly. With Barsha present, I couldn’t afford to act strangely. I masked my composure and asked him quietly.
“Your Highness, might I… examine one of your arrows?”
“What’s the matter?” Henrik asked.
Mindful of Barsha’s presence beside me, I spoke slowly.
“It’s just that I find it remarkable how skillfully Your Highness hunts. I’d love to see one of your arrows up close.”
Henrik withdrew an arrow from the quiver on his back and handed it to me. After thanking him politely, I ran my fingers slowly from the fletching to the tip.
My heart hammered violently.
This isn’t the arrow I saw in the mirror.
Could there be more arrows from the Substitution?
How could this be? How was any of this possible?
My breathing quickened as though I were casting multiple spells in rapid succession. I clutched at my racing heart, unable to control it, and bowed my head low. Henrik stepped closer and asked with concern.
“Are you all right?”
As my vision narrowed, his outstretched hand came into view—
Whish—
A sharp sound cut through the air.
“Atilenta!”
Before I could process what was happening, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the ground.
No—Henrik caught me first. His strong arms felt unfamiliar to me, yet strangely, my shoulders burned as though scorched by flame.

This much pain is nothing at all.
I shouldn’t let him see me like this.
Yet cruelly, darkness crept across my vision and snuffed it out entirely.

* * *
The hunting expedition—gathered together from members of the Royal Family to the most distinguished nobility—ceased at once.
Two days had passed since Atilenta collapsed, and she had not opened her eyes even once.
Henrik had remained at her bedside throughout.
Even when a loyal knight, recognizing his lord was overexerting himself, brought a cushioned chair, Henrik refused it, sitting only on the edge of the bed. When a demure handmaid wiped the perspiration from her brow, he merely watched.
“Hah…….”
Henrik exhaled another shallow sigh. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her side. The other matters were all handled by the knights he trusted. He had no energy left even to commend them for it.
Of course, Henrik maintained his usual composure as he always did. The first crack appeared in that iron composure when he received flowers sent by Prince Resicha.
“Sir Krakup. What flowers are these?”
Sir Krakup stared down at the bouquet hanging limply from his hands, his expression flustered. He had no wish to touch them, yet he could not dispose of a gift that had reached his lord as he pleased. The flowers scattered across the floor were so vivid and full that they looked like a spring garden.
“They were sent by Prince Resicha.”
“What madness—”
“I’ll dispose of them at once, my lord.”
Sir Krakup immediately crouched down and gathered up the bouquet in one swift motion, suppressing his alarm.
His lord rarely cursed at any word or deed of Resicha’s, so this reaction was somewhat unfamiliar. Yet the knight maintained his rigid posture, as if nothing untoward had occurred at all.
“Huh…….”
Henrik, having cursed without thinking, swept his hand roughly through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. It would be satisfying in the moment, but only for a moment.
Discarding flowers here would not make them vanish without a trace. Those passing through the palace outside where he stayed would inevitably see them treated as refuse, and he could already imagine what they would whisper.
“Take them to my chambers.”
Henrik watched the knight turn away, flowers still in hand without a word, then looked back down at Atilenta.
Her face was drained of all color.
He thought his heart might truly shatter. Literally.
What purpose could there have been behind Atilenta’s substitution of poisoned arrows—the act she had discerned through the Mirror?
Both from what Atilenta had told him and from what he had learned himself, he had naturally assumed it was targeting him. But was that not the answer?
Prince Resicha had sent an elaborate bouquet expressing his wishes for the patient’s recovery, and this seemed almost as if…… he had engineered this whole affair.
Even if not, it was a ‘gift’ he could not receive with any warmth.
“She was so occupied with watching over me that she neglected herself.”
Even as he spoke these words in lamentation, her face remained deathly white. Different though she was from the gaunt, frail creature who had made her first impression, she still looked like a woman worn thin.
And yet the King spoke to him of her succession and other such matters.
“……It’s not even amusing.”
To entrust this responsibility to someone who looked as though she might die from a mere brush with an arrow.
Of course he would conduct his own investigation into whatever poison might have coated the shaft……but was that truly all there was to it?
He knew well that of late she had been overextending herself to honor her promise.
“Hah, Atilenta…….”
It was in that very moment, her name mingling with his weary breath, that her long, slender fingers trembled slightly.

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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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