Chapter 4

She stared at him blankly.

If she wanted to handle it, she needed to drink.

What was he planning to do? Would she survive after everything was over?

Her shoulder caught in Fernir’s grip suddenly shrank like a mimosa. Where had her upright attitude from before gone? Her eyes held nothing but fear of what was about to happen.

Since her father’s execution, the avoidance instinct and survival instinct that had been wrestling in Anaide were now devouring each other like they had become one body.

She couldn’t tell whether she should comply to survive, or resist the bedroom even if just for today. Revulsion born from fear of him flowed through her veins.

Soon she set down her wine cup on the table, grasped his wrist with both hands and lowered it as she moved her lips.

“Please be honest with me.”

“About what?”

“Do you… want to sleep with me?”

Anaide carefully let out her words while catching her breath. Before her mind turned into more of a quagmire, before drinking the liquor he had poured, she was dominated by the compulsion to do something. She had to babble nonsense to buy time. She had to prevent being dragged silently to that bed, collapsing helplessly beneath Fernir…

Waiting for his answer, Anaide anxiously fidgeted with her fingers. Please let words like ‘not particularly, but we have to do it anyway’ come from his mouth. She desperately hoped to hear words without any lust or personal feelings toward her.

“Yeah.”

He betrayed her expectations as if he had been waiting.

His eyes looking at her held basic contempt as they had in the stone tower, but enthusiasm was also seething—a determination to see this through to the end. It had a clear purpose.

She hesitated when faced with his intensity. Then large hands unhesitatingly seized her forearm.

“I want to.”

She was trapped with no escape. This wouldn’t do. Anaide gripped his wrist, clearly thicker than her own.

“I-I haven’t even drunk yet.”

“You show no signs of drinking.”

“Could you wait just a little…?”

“Why should I?”

“I know very well what my situation is. You’re right that I need to solidify my position. But since marriage completion isn’t measured by the wedding night like in old times, if you could wait just today somehow–”

“Planning to flee in the night?”

Anaide, who had been rambling incoherently, snapped her lips shut.

Fleeing in the night? Why would she do something that would get her neck cut the moment she was caught? No matter how panicked she was, Anaide wasn’t stupid enough to be unable to make such judgments. Dizzy, she bit down hard once and hurriedly continued her answer.

“I wouldn’t do something that would mean the end if caught.”

“…”

“I just meant please leave me alone, even a little. Treat me like I don’t exist, or even like a ghost–just for today.”

“…”

“If you just let tonight pass, I’ll do well from now on…”

She ended up begging. Unable to endure his silence, tears welled in her eyes.

She was afraid she could only make excuses. She was afraid of his unreadable expression. She didn’t want to cry like an ignorant, naive fool, but unfortunately she knew too well how powerless hostages throughout history had been treated.

Anaide squeezed her eyes shut as if the bed were an execution ground.

Even if she ended up consummating tonight, she shouldn’t panic. This was an appeal to morality–if he demanded she fulfill her duty, she had to comply. If she resisted him now, she wouldn’t escape execution.

Thinking this, she took several deep breaths.

“Fine. Then for the new bride afraid of her wedding night…”

Fernir’s low voice reached the top of Anaide’s head.

“Shall we make a deal?”

He gently brushed her hair to one side.

A deal.

It was a word disconnected from context. How could the word ‘deal’ be appropriate between him and her? Fernir was someone who could lay her on that bed and ruthlessly ravage her right now, or drag her to the execution ground. Puzzled, she opened her eyes and followed his finger with her gaze.

Within her field of vision was the wine cup he had poured earlier. Fernir, who had released Anaide from his embrace, gestured toward the table with his chin.

“Drink first.”

Secretly wiping the cold sweat pooled in her palm, she walked to the table and brought the cup to her lips. The smooth liquid went down her throat. It was fortunate it didn’t taste as harsh as she’d expected.

Confirming she had drunk, he spoke.

“An heir must absolutely be the finest talent with no deficiency in protecting the nation. Preferably a knight with physical strength superior to ordinary people. Therefore, considering my gender for knight education, a son rather than a daughter would be more suitable as heir. You understand what this means, right?”

Anaide, who had been clearing her throat while looking at the completely empty cup, nodded.

Setting aside gender issues, Fernir’s words were quite reasonable. Monarchs who couldn’t protect their nation didn’t receive support.

This has been especially true over the past century. Anaide, who had been holding her breath waiting for his words, widened her eyes at the proposal that followed.

“If we have even one son, I’ll set you free.”

“…”

“Until then, don’t refuse the bedroom. Including today.”

For a moment she thought she’d heard an illusion. A condition far more shocking than the major premise of showing enthusiasm for heir production, whether today or any other day, completely captured Anaide’s attention.

“Free, you said.”

Anaide wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and murmured softly. This foreign word didn’t suit this situation at all.

“That’s right.”

What did that word mean? She understood that he needed a proper son, but something didn’t add up. Anaide shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand very well.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“Aren’t you saying you’ll divorce me if I bear a son?”

Fernir’s lips didn’t move. Anaide wagged her tongue in unnecessary urgency.

“At least the ‘freedom’ I’m thinking of is that. Is yours the same?”

“Luckily, yes.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. Wrinkles formed between her brows, and deep shadows pooled between them.

Was royal marriage something that could be broken so easily? It was a completely different weight from mere broken engagements between betrothed couples.

Moreover, even if she bore a son, it was a proposal with no benefit for him.

No matter how legitimate an heir was within his domain, from the moment she divorced him, Anaide would become a dangerous element. While by his side she would merely be a tool providing legitimacy to his throne, after divorcing him she would gain power as the former king’s only direct descendant.

It was a separate matter from her father not having named Anaide crown princess, and from her own belief that she wasn’t qualified to inherit the throne. The fact that Anaide was of royal blood remained unchanged.

Honestly, she couldn’t understand why he was making such a proposal. If she were him, she wouldn’t have made such a risky promise.

She tried not to be oversensitive as she carefully raised her gaze.

“May I ask why you’re making this proposal?”

“What’s so curious? It’s not a bad proposal.”

“I’m just really curious. What benefit could you possibly gain from this proposal that you’d show the card of conditional divorce…”

“…Good grief.”

His gently sunken voice cut off Anaide’s words and spread through the air.

“This is rather unfair. Why so much chatter?”

“…”

“I’m trying to bestow a favor, so why can’t you accept it?”

Muttering like talking to himself, Fernir looked down and sat leaning against the bed. As if plaster had been applied between his lips, she couldn’t say anything. Noticing his slightly cooled atmosphere, she quickly stiffened her tongue.

“Ah, do you perhaps want to stay in the palace and take revenge on me?”

Fernir, his eyes half-raised, immediately threw a sharp question at her.

That would be terrible. She wanted to survive more than anyone. Anaide widened her eyes and shook her head vigorously. He found this amusing and chuckled while smacking his lips.

“I also need to live, so I can’t just die obediently at your hands, but I can give you opportunities anytime. Starting now.”

Was it a mischievous joke, or truth disguised as a joke? At some point, understanding his intentions had become difficult. Her heart shrank helplessly.

After laughing like that for a while, Fernir suddenly pulled the restless Anaide toward him. Her body swayed and fell into his embrace like a pillow.

Fernir’s hand climbed onto her waist. Gripping the negligee’s waist tie like pulling a steel cable, as he whispered into her ear.

“Originally, as all husbands would be, I don’t like wives who not only lack enthusiasm for producing offspring but actually hate me. If the situation weren’t special, you’d already be divorce material. There wouldn’t even be alimony.”

Fernir’s head tilted sideways. As if his tongue were a blade, his words stabbed at Anaide’s heart.

“What’s so precious about something useless that I should treat it well?”

Anaide, who had been struggling weakly, stopped resisting.

“I was trying to fulfill my duty as a husband, but Her Highness the Queen doesn’t understand my intentions.”

“…”

“Such stubbornness, really…”

…Ah, well of course. There’s no way he wouldn’t find me disgusting.

Anaide struggled to swallow the tears rising from her core. Though the sticky contempt she was experiencing for the first time was overwhelming, she tried to think as calmly as possible.

The answer came easily. Though Fernir spoke as if bestowing a favor on Anaide, in reality he also benefited. If she bore a son and they divorced, Fernir could not only get an heir who met his perfect conditions but also never have to face the woman he disliked again.

“Honestly, was there any need for you to refuse such conditions?”

“…”

“If this contract itself sounds absurd, I’ll send you a document with the royal seal, so check it carefully later and sign.”

He hit the mark.

She had been wondering whether ‘this’ type of contract was really possible, flinched briefly, then fell into intense contemplation.

It was because of what Fernir immediately added.

“I’m making this proposal just this once, as a special exception.”

“…”

“If not today, I’ll never breathe a word about such a contract again.”

Anaide’s fingers intertwined like vines. Her slightly disturbed breathing represented her frightened state.

Her reason for wanting to postpone the wedding night was that she needed time to gather her extremely sensitive emotions. However, looking at the results, the contract Fernir offered was nothing but good conditions for Anaide, who desperately needed immediate safety.

A decisive support that would make Fernir, who hated her, leave Anaide alone, and make the nobles supporting him ‘reserve’ her as well.

A reason for Queen Anaide, not Princess Anaide, to live.

Whether son or daughter, Anaide with a child would surely be more stable than Anaide without.

How much time had passed? She clasped Fernir’s hand on her waist. Anaide moved her lips several times and spoke quietly.

“…I understand.”

“…”

“I’ll accept it. If you have a document you wrote yourself.”

Empty laughter burst between Fernir’s lips. The scar around his eye curved round. He pinched the top of the candle with his thick fingers and crushed it.

“Contract established.”

The candlelight went out.