The Contract Marriage for Attilenta's Revenge - Chapter 8

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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 Through a Contractual Marriage — Episode 008
First, she needed evidence that she had spent the night with him. Until now, I had been taught that a lady must maintain a clean and virtuous body and spirit. I had no doubt that Bwendopfska Kingdom shared a similar sentiment.
But I was no longer a woman of standing—abandoned by the Duke and now following a foreign prince. There was no need to speak of a lady’s virtue.
I knew he didn’t find me to his taste, but that too was immaterial. I would offer him suitable compensation, negotiate a deal, and make him bend to my will.
Second, according to the laws of Francia Kingdom, whenever a member of the royal family went abroad to reside in another land, it was customary to send an envoy delegation.
And it was common sense that a princess—though I detested using that word—would receive the delegation sent from her homeland.
How best to host such an event? A satisfying thought crossed my mind: why not give that delegation something to chew on? I turned over various schemes in my mind.
The carriage lurched to a stop. Only then did I glance out the window. Someone called out to Henrik.
“We’ve arrived, Your Highness.”
He, who had been quiet as if lost in some private thought, stepped down from the carriage at once. He extended his hand to me.
“Come now, madam. Let us alight.”
Peering out, I saw many eyes fixed upon our carriage.
I smiled—a carefully constructed smile—and took his hand. His grip was firm, with a subtle warmth to it. The touch of a stranger felt unfamiliar, yet I showed no sign of it.
Everything is for my purpose, Atilenta.
I recited the words I had repeated a hundred times, once more in the silence of my heart.

* * *
“Miss. Mind yourself.”
I watched quietly as the head maid brushed my hair in the mirror’s reflection.
“Do not dare speak first to His Highness. And do not remove your blindfold without his permission—that would be most unseemly behavior.”
“Understood.”
I answered without resistance. Her expression was stern, quite at odds with the gentle way her hands worked at my hair.
In fact, it wasn’t only she—all the maids attending to me maintained a cold demeanor.
“You know how to wear it, I trust?”
The maid who thrust the negligee at me—its neckline gaping shamelessly—wore an expression of barely concealed disdain.
I followed their ministrations without complaint. The blindfold, the scandalous undergarments—all unfamiliar, yet I understood this was the fitting behavior of a foreign-born bride of little consequence.
Truth be told, I had grown familiar with such contempt. In some ways, it was almost amusing. I wanted to tell them coldly that their disrespect was aimed at the wrong adversary.
For their scorn to change, my bridegroom Henrik would first have to show me favor—something I was meant to secure this very night.
I would be lying if I said I harbored no fear—no whispered thought of ‘What if this fails?’—yet I had chosen this path myself.
“Simply wear this.”
The head maid spun me around as though I were a child and held out the blindfold. She pointed sharply toward a sofa surrounded by deep crimson candlelight, their flames dancing with an air of mystery. From within that charged atmosphere, the head maid offered her final warning.
“And do not forget my words, Your Highness.”
For a moment, I barely suppressed a laugh. How perfectly formal the title was—even as she denied me any real recognition.
With the blindfold on, I could see only the faint glow of the flames. I walked carefully in a straight line to the sofa and sat.
I heard the rustling of skirts as the head maid and the maids departed. The pale light filtering through the blindfold seemed to mirror my own circumstances perfectly.
Whether from the strangeness of the place or from what was about to unfold, I could not say. I had known a man’s touch before, more than once, yet tension did not entirely leave me.
After a brief silence, the door opened.
“Atilenta.”
“You’ve come, Your Highness.”
I felt only the coolness of Henrik’s voice and his presence, yet a sudden warmth seemed to wash over me like a heated wind.
“This ceremony is tedious. Remove the blindfold.”
“Thank you for your kindness.”
I drew in one long, deep breath, then untied the blindfold and let it fall. Through the crimson haze, Henrik came into clear focus. His dark hair hung slightly damp and natural about his shoulders as he reclined in a thick robe.
Henrik approached with a fluid stride. With the air of one indifferent to this kingdom’s traditions regarding blindfolds, he seated himself across from me. He poured wine from the decanter on the side table and offered me a glass with casual ease.
“Will you drink wine?”
I accepted the glass and nodded lightly. I had never been a great lover of spirits, yet drinking a glass to mark my departure from Francia Kingdom did not seem unpleasant.
More to the point, I had a great undertaking before me this night.
What he thought was another matter entirely.
Henrik bore himself with considerable composure—not at all like a bridegroom on his wedding night.
“The wedding ceremony is to be held later. Preparations will take several days, they say.”
Beneath the candlelight, the wine in Henrik’s glass appeared a deep crimson. As I gazed into his eyes—darker still than that color—I felt my throat tighten as I swallowed.
I was more tense than when we first met. I forced myself to speak, feigning composure.
“I care not either way, Your Highness. But there is something I wished to ask of you.”
Henrik showed no reaction—his composed brow, his smooth lips, nothing changed.
“A request from my bride on the wedding night? Then I suppose I must grant it.”
Even at my sudden boldness, he exhibited ease. That ease, too, seemed as natural to him as breathing—befitting a prince of legitimate birth, born and raised in this royal house.
A truth of bearing that a princess like me could scarcely hope to imitate.
As I prepared to ask for something I knew he would be utterly unmoved by, my throat grew dry.
“I know full well that I am entirely to your taste. But tonight, grant me only this—let there be some mark that you spent the night with me.”
Henrik did not deny my assumption in the slightest. Instead, he tilted his wine glass slightly and swirled it once or twice.
“That wasn’t part of our agreement. Now that you’re asking for it, what price would you demand in return? You.”
Henrik’s demeanor remained unchanged. His face calm, his voice measured. He had surely grasped every reason behind my request.
It might have seemed frightening at first glance, but for me, it was easier to respond when he presented himself this way. Thanks to that, my own peculiar tension gradually began to ease.
I, for my part, made no effort to smile sweetly or play the docile bride.
“I will ensure that no intelligence from this place leaks to any other nation.”
Which meant I would root out every spy. Using Magic extensively in such a short time would strain my body, certainly, but it was something I had to do if I was to establish myself here—to accomplish my purpose.
“Audacious, aren’t you.”
Henrik spoke words that seemed too subtle to accept as mere praise.
Holding his wine glass, he reclined against the sofa, presenting the image of a leisured predator.
“You must already know I’ve been doing such work. Didn’t the watchman Francia sent follow in your wake?”
“Your Highness is correct. Yet I dare say this: Are they the only ones? Moreover, no matter how you command them, they will hardly withdraw willingly. They have justification, don’t they—the pretext of acting for my sake.”
I drew out one of the prepared arguments. Henrik’s eyebrows twitched slightly. I couldn’t say precisely what it meant, but it didn’t seem I’d offended his mood in any negative way.
He neither frowned nor withdrew from the conversation. Only a hairline crack appeared in his composed expression.
“Then, how do you mean to handle that matter?”
I found myself smiling faintly. Seeing his reaction, my judgment had been correct. I had undoubtedly piqued his curiosity.
“If you grant my request now, I will show you tomorrow itself.”
“Hah…”
Henrik laughed like a still wind. It was different from the cold laughter he’d worn when I first met him and struck our bargain.
I, too, pressed on with my thoughts in the silence. Was my proposal truly unappetizing? If this didn’t work, what would I offer next?
Then Henrik spoke in a very low voice.
“There’s one thing I need to clarify.”
“Please speak, Your Highness.”
Henrik’s amethyst eyes fixed upon me with precision. At that bare-faced gaze, I flinched.
“I don’t know why you came to such a misunderstanding.”
Henrik set his wine glass down on the table with a sharp tap, then rose from his seat.
“I never said you fell outside my taste.”

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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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