The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 49

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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 49
Unnecessary troubles had arisen, but reality remained unchanged. The important state banquet I would hold with him in the Francia Kingdom stretched on for several more days.
Or rather, there was one thing that had changed.
Since our marriage, we had shared the same bedchamber every night, but now Henrik was avoiding me. Without a shadow of doubt.
When I stirred in my sleep at dawn and turned to look, he was always gone from his place. I couldn’t bring myself to stop him as he left without a word.
When I thought about it, this too felt strange. How long had we even been married……
It was a peculiar feeling, truly.
“……Was he hurt?”
I caught myself muttering unconsciously, then bit my lip hard.
Until now, I had believed this relationship to be genuinely safe.
“……Did this happen because I foolishly let someone else slip into my future again?”
If positive feelings could arise in this relationship, then the opposite could just as easily occur.
“This is……”
A sigh escaped me unbidden. I was already behaving like a thoughtless young lady who blindly trusted his heart.
If every judgment I had made so far was truly wrong……
“What if he refuses to speak even a word with me from now on……”
It was not easy to calm my anxious heart. Unlike at the banquet, when we were alone, he was the one keeping his distance from me.
Those confused days continued. It was no different on the day we returned to Bwendopska.
In the carriage, Henrik did not speak to me first. Yet not long ago, when we rode together, he had asked if I was comfortable……
After an awkward journey, the distinctive blue scent of Bwendopska drifted in through the window, and soon the solemn Black Royal Palace came into view, filling me with relief.
Though I had not spent many seasons here, the landscape had already become familiar to me.
“My lady, take my hand as you descend.”
As Henrik stepped down from the carriage and offered me his hand, my eyes widened.
“Your Highness. Thank you.”
I whispered softly, and he nodded without hesitation, maintaining his composed gaze beneath his ash-colored hair and his unhurried composure.
Was it because servants and other people continued to bustle about nearby?
I headed straight to the bedchamber to rest from the journey, but it felt awkward beyond measure. Sharing the same room with him was natural enough, yet it had not been so on the last night we spent in Francia.
I could not bring myself to look at Henrik indifferently as he sat on the sofa reading documents as usual. I feared he might leave this place again to avoid me.
No matter how I tried to soothe my own unease and confusion, sleep still eluded me.
What on earth was he thinking?
I wanted to know.
In that moment, my breath caught.
I — I dared to be conscious of him. Dared.
Something inside me thundered with realization.
You have no right to do so, Atilenta.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think of something else, but an inescapable truth was already waiting for me.
I was conscious of Henrik to a degree that could not be compared with before — all because I had heard him express jealousy so openly, and fallen into the mistaken belief that he was not lying.
Moreover, I could not deny that I had been aware of him in my heart for far longer than that.
When an unexpected rival like Tatra appeared, I had felt inferior and bitter in solitude. And yet Henrik treated her with indifference.
He had never even criticized me for lacking refinement, and yet I had always thought that grace flowed through her in a way no princess like me could possibly imitate.
How could this have happened?
Within me, only questions I could not speak aloud kept swirling. Truly, ironically.
If I am honest, it was since Henrik expressed his jealousy.
Was it genuine? Since when? There was no affection in the beginning — it was a transaction. And you’re not the kind of person who……
Receiving such jealousy, entertaining such doubts — it all felt utterly foreign and mortifying.
I wanted to resolve these unnecessary, burdensome feelings as quickly as possible.
In the end, I rose from the bed, rubbing my eyes as if I had just woken.
“……Your Highness?”
“You’re awake, Atilenta.”
The crimson lamplight illuminated everything so thoroughly that he appeared to sink deeper into shadow, his expression darker still.
Sensing the unusual atmosphere, I felt embarrassed and glanced nervously around the room.
What lay on the table was no different from usual: piles of documents, the expensive liquor bottle a servant always prepared, and an empty glass.
“Sit.”
Henrik gestured to the sofa across from him. Having no way to refuse, I approached slowly.
Those amethyst eyes fixed solely on me. Instinctively, I quickly adjusted my loose nightgown to ensure it would not slip.
Henrik had summoned me, yet he made no move to speak first.
I found myself simply sitting there, stealing glances at Henrik, uncertain whether he was reading his documents or lost in thought.
When troubled, he would typically reach for liquor or a cigar, but even squinting, I could see no such signs.
It would be difficult for him not to notice my wandering gaze.
“Atilenta, if you have something to say, say it.”
Meeting Henrik’s gaze directly, I swallowed without meaning to.
The way he called my name—so calm, so softly—with those languid, tender eyes fixed on me.
I’d always thought his cold impression suited his perpetually composed nature, but looking at him now, I realized I’d made a rather grave misjudgment.
Why did it feel so unreal, seeing him hold me so completely in those glittering jewel-like eyes?
My lips had gone dry; I traced them absently with a finger.
“Your Highness, …… every night, working in this place…… surely you have your own study, don’t you?”
I hadn’t sat down here to say something so hollow. Almost without thinking, I bit my lip hard.
“I do. Separate quarters.”
I was about to offer some response, any response.
“This place suits me better. As for a study worth the name, the king only bestowed it upon me along with the Royal Seal after I returned from the Battlefield.”
His brows furrowed slightly, as though considering me, yet his gaze remained fixed on me alone.
“…… Though it must be inconvenient for you.”
He was being entirely transparent.
I wanted to let out an impulsive sigh but managed to hold it back.
Why hadn’t I noticed until now? The answer was obvious.
I’d lived in steadfast conviction, in perfect delusion, never seeing—or rather, refusing to see—the depth of his feelings. Not allowing myself to see.
As if I were particularly sharp-eyed.
Perhaps it was similar to that pitiable past when I’d merely suffered passively, played the fool.
People don’t change easily, after all.
I’d faced him wanting desperately to break this awkward silence, only to sink deeper into the mire.
Henrik, naturally, if what he’d shown me was not a lie, must be wrestling with something grave.
I’d already begged him not to show me that jealousy he’d finally let slip.
So whatever he harbored for me now was transparent: resentment, reproach…….
Did you have the confidence to face such sincerity, Atilenta?
Of course not.
Gripped by surging dread, I grasped for a different subject entirely.
“Have you been drinking, Your Highness?”
“I indulge only on good days.”
That answer stirred an old memory. At the banquet held in the name of Temple donations with Barsha, I’d caught the scent of cigars on him when he left satisfied.
The fresh grass-like aroma clung to him, perfectly matched to the serene smile he’d worn.
“The same with cigars, then?”
He’d been rifling through files with those long fingers; now he stopped all motion at once.
“You know, then.”
Yet knowing that much hardly made me sharp-eyed. Not in front of him, at least.
Or perhaps I truly didn’t believe it was sincere—not entirely—so it was only natural? He had no idea that I was struggling not to become a foolish, pitiful woman again.
Henrik fell silent for a moment, lost in thought.
He wasn’t the sort with leisure for useless worries about me.
“Your Highness. …… If you’re having neither drink nor cigars, wouldn’t it be better to rest comfortably in bed?”
In that instant, I wanted to bite my tongue. I resented myself for speaking so carelessly.
“Atilenta…….”
Henrik now gazed at me openly, and as I felt him—his hand never outstretched—caressing me from the crown of my head to my feet, a strange sensation suddenly rippled through me.

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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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