Anything but Ordinary
I had known I was far from ordinary ever since I followed Antoni onto the battlefield. No—truthfully, I had never been an ordinary princess from the moment I was born. For better or for worse.
Since I knew I looked that way to Henrik as well, I offered no protest.
"You've been to war, and you know how to preside over a banquet. That's a rare combination indeed."
Ordinarily, in Francia, a banquet held in a family's name was hosted by the lady of the house. From what I had seen, the Kingdom of Bwendowska was little different. Henrik's wedding anniversary feast had been arranged by Princess Warsza, after all.
And the lady of a household, as a rule, had no reason to take the field. However differently Francia and Bwendowska each defined the ideal woman in high society, on that point, at least, they seemed to agree.
Even Poznan, my personal maid, drew a clear line between herself and her brother, who was a knight.
"That southern general of yours made excellent use of you, didn't he? Or should I say your former husband?"
"Call me whatever you like, Your Highness."
Something new flickered once more in Henrik's amethyst eyes. What part of what I'd said had piqued his interest this time?
Honestly, I didn't much care what the reason was—so long as I hadn't provoked his displeasure.
What mattered was that he found me interesting at all. Judging by the course he'd charted so far, he seemed committed to honoring our bargain.
"Do you hate it so much? It's still your homeland's affair."
I studied his placid face and the gleam of curiosity in his eyes, focusing every nerve on his low, cold voice, which was no different from usual.
He wasn't openly accusing me of being a double agent planted by the Kingdom of Francia.
But what if he was suspicious?
What if that leisurely demeanor concealed a merciless blade?
I had been through this kind of conversation many times before—Henrik, as a cold-eyed master, inspecting the tool who called herself his servant as one might inspect a weapon.
Just as I had chosen him, he, too, held every right to test me whenever he pleased.
But what if this conversation meant something more than that?
Suddenly my throat went dry, and I swallowed hard. If I claimed I had never once lied to him, that would be a grievously wrong confession to make.
Henrik knew. He knew of my disgrace—the very shame even the King of Francia had hidden from his face.
No matter how little interest Henrik took in his wife, my inability to produce an heir was a fatal flaw.
And the more that flaw came to light, the worse my position in this bargain became. He was an ambitious man who wanted far more than a mere throne.
If he ever seized on that weakness as pretext to demand a divorce, I would have no choice but to retreat.
Worse still—and though even Henrik might not yet have grasped this—the same held true for the magic I wielded. I had been lying from the very beginning.
"Your mother's homeland was not Francia, I believe you said."
Henrik was still watching me intently. That man, so openly intrigued by me, could drag me down to the dungeon and torture me the instant he felt I had betrayed him.
I looked down at the ring on my finger. The magic of Bwendia, the Black Dragon who had founded this kingdom, dwelled within it—a guarantee, it seemed, on paper. But I would not be seduced by that hollow sweetness.
In the end, the standard by which betrayal was judged was that man's own subjective will. And how abstract a guarantee could that possibly be? Once again, I had to choose the truth.
"Your Highness, as a duchess and the princess of a nation, I was hardly lacking in refinement. However...."
That past had nothing to do with Henrik. In a moment when what mattered most was appearing as useful a woman as possible to him, it stung to confess my own foolishness like this.
But if he'd had the mind to, he would have long since unearthed every detail of my past.
Steadying myself at once, I continued in a calm, composed voice.
"The first banquet I hosted here, I managed quite well."
"That was thanks to your guidance, Your Highness. It's only.... I was a fool. I was being deceived, and I never once suspected it. I had given them everything."
Before I knew it, my lips felt parched and my throat rough. I had known my future without needing to ask the mirror—that even if I set the palace of Francia ablaze, my heart would not be entirely at peace.
Even if I drove the knife into the King's shameless face exactly as I wished. Even if Selena wept herself sick before me. Even if Antoni, broken, knelt at my feet.
"The reason you came to me—you laid it all bare that day, in truth."
"Your Highness, on this one matter I can speak with certainty. I intend to make them pay the proper price. All of them."
"So the crown and the duke used you up and threw you away. And someone else used you besides?"
"Exactly as I told you the day we first met."
"You told me to use you like a tool. My lady."
Henrik struck true, his face perfectly composed. I quietly reviewed my prepared words in my mind. Most likely, he would wear that same expression even after hearing my answer.
"Your Highness, how could I dare speak falsely? You meant for me to serve as an instrument of your war of conquest."
A faint smile settled on Henrik's lips. Somehow, that put me a little at ease.
He really was a strange man. Apparently my answer didn't offend his sensibilities. Well—he had known as much from the start.
"You must have a great deal to prepare, I imagine."
"You're right. But I've been on the battlefield until quite recently, so now is the time to fortify what lies within."
I didn't know everything Henrik was doing now. I only knew it had helped expose the spy, and I found myself curious what he would turn his hand to next. After all, the more I learned, the more I could reinforce my own plans.
Even without resorting to magic, I could guess at one thing: watching the movements of high society would prove crucial. Prince Leszyca was still a force to be reckoned with.
"Wars aren't always fought on the battlefield, Your Highness. Your separate audience with the delegation today, for instance."
"Haha."
Now Henrik laughed out loud. A moment ago he had been inspecting me like a honed blade, and now he could shift his manner this easily and laugh. It surprised me a little, but I matched his ease and stayed composed in turn.
"My lady, come to think of it, it rather sounds as though you're warning me. Mm?"
Henrik wore that fresh, effortless smile I'd seen from him before. Facing him, with all his interest fixed on me, I chose truth over denial.
In truth, I had nothing to dress up in lies. I had chosen revenge over survival, willing to die for it. I feared nothing. No—except one thing. I refused to hold anyone to that foolish, pitiable faith.
Because I was terrified, more than anything, of leaning on someone once more only to be cast aside—to make a fool of myself all over again.
"I assume, Your Highness, that you already knew everything I've told you today when you took me in."
"Haha.... Truly.... you are—"
My judgment was not wrong. If Henrik had meant to draw his sword and punish me, he would have done so long ago. The opportunities had been plentiful. It would have been possible that very first night, too, when I came rudely knocking at his door in the dark. But he hadn't.
I had stirred his interest, and thanks to that, we had struck a bargain profitable to us both.
"You truly are anything but ordinary."
It was unambiguous praise. Even so, I had no intention of reacting like some run-of-the-mill noble girl delighted to have caught a prince's attention. I simply wasn't built for that kind of fawning.
"I am sincerely grateful to you, Your Highness, for bringing me to this land."
"No need to look at me like that."
Without even pausing to examine the look in my eyes as it reached him, I bowed my head at once.
Henrik—I don't trust you. I have no intention of devoting myself to you like some foolish woman, surrendering everything in pitiful sacrifice. But as a partner in a bargain, I think you will do just fine.