A Rather Unusual Spy
I let my gaze drift slowly across the delegation, Herson at its head with his impeccably courteous expression, before I spoke. Henrik's low voice followed behind me.
"I fear you worry for my wife a touch too much. She has already adapted beautifully to the culture here. If you were to return to your homeland and report such agreeable news, it would please me greatly."
Henrik made no mention of his own reputation abroad, speaking as if utterly indifferent to it, and addressed only the 'cultural difference' Herson had pointed out. It was a stance that made it abundantly clear: this was Bwendowska, and I was its princess consort. Whatever delegation my wife's homeland might send, it was not to overstep its bounds.
And threaded through it, too, was a warning—if Francia tried to send anyone else, they would do well to watch themselves.
Herson's lips curved into a faint smile. It was a light, graceful response that made him look anything but a light man.
"Indeed. Thank you both for your kind words. What a relief it is, truly. Seeing Her Highness the Consort adjusting so well with my own eyes puts my heart at ease."
"Well, that is thanks to you, I suppose."
Smiling with all the graciousness of a devoted wife, I wrapped my hand around Henrik's again. I could feel the delegation's eyes turning to me—to the black ring on my finger.
The Ring of Bwędia, glittering like some mysterious enchantment, had proven an immense asset to me. Though I had no idea how far in advance Henrik had calculated when he pressed it into my hand.
At every formal banquet he played his part in our transaction with perfect fidelity, which meant I owed him proper repayment in kind.
It seemed I would have to settle that debt before long, in whatever way I was able.
* * *
"Ahh... what a long day."
The night the delegation's gathering ended. Having finished my bath with Poznan's help, I sighed to myself in the languid, bone-deep warmth of it.
When I stepped into the bedchamber, Henrik sat on the sofa beneath the bright lamplight, papers spread out before him as he worked, his face as composed as ever.
"There you are."
We shared a bedchamber, so before I could offer him even the courtesy of a greeting, Henrik asked in a cool voice,
"So. What was that about, earlier?"
The drowsy ease I'd soaked into in the bath vanished in an instant.
In all the time I'd known him—at crowded formal banquets and delegation gatherings alike—Henrik had always shown the proper magnanimity expected of a prince. There was no trace of it in his amethyst eyes now. Whether in public or here, only that characteristic effortless elegance of his remained untouched.
"Keeping salt like a precious jewel. That's a first for me. Hm?"
It was a question in name only—a test. It had been from the very beginning, always. I had never once mistaken this kind of exchange for the slow building of intimacy between us, and I didn't mistake it now.
"It seems to have been effective in accomplishing what I intended. A relief, really."
"When did you use magic, my lady? I received no report of anything along those lines regarding the delegation."
I hadn't told him a single lie about today's affairs, so I had no reason to be nervous—and yet, facing Henrik as he truly was sent a faint chill down my spine.
The bedchamber was unmistakably warm and cozy, which only made it feel as though the room itself were reminding me that reality was nothing of the sort.
He must have had as long a day as I had, yet nothing about him betrayed the slightest fatigue. Those cruel eyes, that low, dark voice—they seemed to possess the power to turn anyone to stone.
I was, distinctly, meant to wield my magic as a tool for his benefit, and bound to report everything to him in return. That was the heart of the bargain we had struck.
"Your Highness, I will say this plainly: what matters most to me at present is identifying the spies."
"And those arrangements—you made them all yourself?"
I didn't think it worth claiming credit, so I answered with a gentle touch of modesty.
"By myself? Hardly. That was your doing, Your Highness. You assigned Poznan to me, after all. Truthfully—at the last banquet and again today—I never expected you to step forward and help me yourself. You had no obligation to, not really. I'm deeply grateful."
Only then did a faint smile touch Henrik's lips. Of course, seeing that smile gave me no cause to relax entirely. We were not that kind of couple, to begin with.
"Consider it an exchange. That was the bargain from the start."
I offered my courtesies once more and took the seat across from him. Then I reached out, pretending to tidy the sprawling, disordered pile of documents.
"Oh—"
The sharp edge of a paper sliced into my index finger, and it began to bleed. Some tension must have been coiled inside me after all, for me to fumble so.
Without thinking, I bit my lip and dropped my gaze. That was when it happened.
"Not the sort of thing you're used to handling, I take it?"
He had drawn near without my noticing, spreading the long sleeve of his white robe as he closed his hand firmly around my finger.
Caught off guard with my hand in his, all I could do was swallow. His voice was coldly detached, but the hand holding mine felt warm. Like... the way it had felt back then, when we'd touched before.
"...It is different from the documents I used to handle. Since Your Highness extended your care to me, I wished to lend my hand to your work in return."
"I see. That's fair enough."
A soft laugh escaped Henrik. I fought to keep my expression composed and met his clear amethyst eyes head-on.
Whatever judgment he had just passed on my little mistake, staying calm was my best move. I also knew he meant to steer our conversation back toward today's events.
"So. What was it you were reading, my lady?"
Henrik had kept his seat beside mine throughout the banquet for the delegation, so he knew all of it already—but it was, as ever, a question meant to test me. I answered him calmly with the conclusions I had drawn.
"I believe they intend to forge connections with other northern kingdoms. From what they said earlier..."
So I laid out the conclusion I had reached, sifting through my memory of every small scrap of information gathered from my many conversations with the delegation and analyzing it in my own way.
Henrik, who had long since let go of my hand, listened to me with full attention.
"Just as you say. They intend to push for diplomatic ties with Arad as well."
After that grand meal had wound down, the royal orchestra Henrik had summoned played soft melodies as the delegation and I exchanged pleasantries in the cozy haze of it all.
'The banquet celebrating the marriage of Prince Henrik and Her Highness the Consort must have been quite splendid as well. Were there other foreign guests in attendance?'
'Had you come yourself, you would have seen.'
'Haha, a shame indeed. Your Highness, we wish only to build upon this fine connection and carry our bond with the north ever forward.'
The head of the delegation smiled smoothly and spun out hopeful words while Henrik responded with practiced cordiality—but I was thinking about what lay beneath.
The King of Francia, most likely, meant to use the marriage accord struck with Bwendowska as a wedge to open relations with the rest of the north as well.
The northern reaches of this land were vast, and the Kingdom of Arad and the Kingdom of Brașov sat squarely upon it, among others. Henrik's fame, having cut a path all the way to the continent's heart, was considerable—but the other northern kingdoms were not to be lightly dismissed either. All the more so if Francia truly meant to climb this far.
The Antoni I knew had ambitions of his own. For now he played the peacemaker, but whether it was the King of Francia or Antony with his towering military glory, both would be weighing the possibility of some future war.
And scheming of this scale was child's play for Henrik to unravel entirely.
"The delegation meets with the other members of the royal family tomorrow, I understand."
"It is the custom."
"Your Highness, before that happens, I will verify things again with my magic."
I said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world. I had no intention of ever letting slip, in front of Henrik, that using my magic might strain me.
No—truthfully, I had no intention of saying such a thing to anyone. I had hidden even the coughing of blood from him, after all.
Straining myself over this matter couldn't be helped. I had already meant to use my magic to examine the delegation last time, anyway. My body would simply have to rest well tonight and recover.
But if the King of Francia were reaching further into the north with some hidden design—
Nothing could be allowed to disrupt Henrik's path ahead. Not now.
"Also, from what Herson said earlier..."
I shared a few more pieces of information I had gleaned from my conversations with the delegation. Henrik, listening quietly, rested his chin on his hand and answered at his leisure.
"Thanks to you, this business will go all the more smoothly."
"I know full well these are things Your Highness could accomplish without me, but I'm grateful for the words all the same."
This time, when the praise came, I accepted it quietly without declining. Humility was not the only way to raise one's own value.
Henrik gazed at me steadily for a long moment, then slowly parted his lips.
"You, my lady, might fairly be called a rather unusual spy."