27.

A proposal?

For once, even Ateira found it difficult to remain composed.

Leofric sat with his fingers interlocked over his knee, watching her quietly. The faint smile on his face only made it harder to grasp his intentions.

“Are you mocking me?”

She blinked slowly, her expression unreadable. Leofric chuckled lightly.

It would be disappointing if she weren’t at least a little shocked.

“You keep stalling, claiming I’m an assassin. But that’s not a real solution, is it?”

“…And what’s your sudden reason for wanting to get married?”

Her voice remained perfectly steady. Ateira did everything she could to maintain her composure, resisting the urge to clutch at the fabric of her dress too tightly.

“I’d like to leave here without committing treason, and this is the only way to do that.”

“…….”

Ateira’s mind whirled. The man she was supposed to kill had just proposed to her.

Yet, even with this unexpected turn of events, her path remained unchanged.

The only thing that unsettled her was the eerie sensation of sitting across from someone discussing marriage while secretly planning his death.

He speaks of the future.

But for you, there are only three futures: dying by my hand, dying by someone else’s, or losing everything to the point where death would be preferable.

Ateira let out a small sigh. Something within her twisted uncomfortably.

“Do you still think dying is better than marrying me?”

Leofric’s voice was casual, almost teasing. His long legs were crossed, the tip of his boot tapping lightly in the air. She couldn’t tell if it was a sign of ease or nervousness.

“…….”

She didn’t answer, but silence was its own form of agreement.

She had always known that royal marriages didn’t always begin with love.

But at the very least, she had hoped hers would begin with respect. That, if she had to marry, she would at least be given a partner with whom she could build some form of companionship—be it love, friendship, or even the smallest bit of mutual care.

“I need a political marriage,” Leofric continued. “It wouldn’t be much different from the one you were originally meant to have. Except, of course, for the fact that you want to kill me.”

At those final words, Ateira’s hand twitched slightly.

Leofric raised his left hand, showing the faint scars that ran across his skin. They weren’t wounds anymore—just thin, silvery lines. He tapped his fingers lightly against his throat, tracing an even thinner scar there.

A reminder of the night they first met.

The wound on his throat… That wasn’t intentional.

She suddenly recalled the moment when she had fallen into his arms, pinned beneath him. Embarrassment crept up her spine, and she needlessly smoothed out her dress.

“Except for the part where you want to kill me.”

Did he have any idea how precisely he had struck at the truth?

Ateira met his gaze and replied flatly,

“…Isn’t that the most important part? Surely you wouldn’t want to marry a woman who tried to kill you.”

“There are things more important than that,” he said. “I have things I need to protect, too.”

This marriage wasn’t just about his survival. The lives of many others were on the line.

It wasn’t entirely impossible for him to refuse the marriage, but if he did, it would be seen as defying the king’s orders. That would make him a traitor—a perfect excuse for those lurking in the shadows to strike.

And he had no idea that she was the bait they had prepared for him.

“…Things to protect.”

Dermin came to mind. Her little brother, whose whereabouts were still unknown. She forced herself to resist the urge to reach for the decorative pin. She couldn’t afford to draw attention to it—not yet.

“I’m suggesting a contract marriage,” Leofric said.

“…A contract?”

“I only need one thing from you: a signature confirming that we’re married.”

“…….”

“Other than that, I have no interest in anything else. Especially not in… marital duties.”

Leofric cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. The phrase marital duties seemed unnatural in his mouth, and he awkwardly adjusted his posture.

Ateira thought of his mistress.

Ah, so that’s why.

Had Lavinia already known about this proposal? Had she come to greet Ateira because she knew it was coming? Is that why she had put such emphasis on the word favored when referring to herself?

Perhaps she wanted to make it clear that she was the real ‘wife’ in this arrangement.

“…….”

Leofric trailed off with an oddly sharp tone, then continued his explanation.

“This will require some acting. A signed agreement and a bit of a performance. We’ll have to appear to consummate the marriage, and even after leaving here, a small wedding ceremony will be necessary.”

“…….”

“And then, we’ll go to Semerta together.”

The name of a province from the Ledetian Empire suddenly struck her ears.

Ateira instinctively lifted her gaze to him.

“You should be somewhat familiar with the place. It won’t be an unpleasant place to stay.”

His voice was calm, almost indifferent.

“That’s the extent of what I require in this contract.”

“A contract, you say. And what do I gain from this?”

Leofric responded without hesitation, as if he had already anticipated the question.

“Your life. And your pride.”

“…….”

“I would emphasize the fact that you wouldn’t have to live as the enemy’s wife out of resignation.”

That only works if someone actually wants to live.

Thinking this, Leofric tilted his head slightly and added,

“…I suppose that alone won’t make for a very compelling deal.”

He chuckled when he saw Ateira’s lack of reaction.

This princess doesn’t even care about her own life. When she attacked him, it wasn’t out of a desperate will to survive.

Promising to keep her alive wasn’t exactly a tempting offer.

“Truthfully, I would have liked to offer something more enticing, but I didn’t have the time to figure out what might actually interest you.”

Because there was nothing.

Ateira didn’t disagree.

“Would my life be the only thing you truly want from me?”

Leofric smiled, his tone light, almost teasing.

He was striking uncomfortably close to the truth.

Did he suspect something? Or was he simply joking?

Ateira glanced at the glass in front of her. She had the sudden urge to grab it and take a long drink.

“That’s the only thing I could think of,” he continued. “But I’m trying to stay alive at the moment, so I can’t exactly offer it up.”

He spoke as if it were someone else’s problem—like even he wasn’t particularly attached to his own life.

“If there’s something else you want, name it. If it’s possible, I’ll get it for you.”

“…….”

“Money, jewels—anything. If it’s within reason, I can obtain it for you.”

The word anything made Ateira look up. Before she could stop herself, a question slipped out.

“…Can you find a person?”

“…….”

“Even just news of them?”

She hesitated, but in the end, she couldn’t hold it back.

If this was possible, if this man could find Dermin—then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t have to bloody her own hands.

Leofric’s gaze darkened.

News? Was she referring to Lucian Salem?

“…Bringing them back immediately might be difficult, but I can look into their whereabouts.”

Can you find Dermin? That’s all I want.

The words burned at the back of her throat.

“Who do you need me to find?”

“…….”

Could she trust him?

All she had to do was say the name. But she hesitated.

She needed to think carefully.

Count Zellered and Leofric were playing their own political games. The royal court had already shown they were willing to use her as an assassin. Who knew how many nobles were involved?

Leofric himself didn’t even realize that he was being maneuvered into a trap.

And if Zellered realized that Leofric was looking for Dermin, it could become dangerous.

Even if Leofric did find Dermin, what guarantee was there that he wouldn’t use him as leverage—just like Zellered?

A prince was a far more valuable hostage than a princess.

If Dermin fell into Leofric’s hands, wouldn’t he use him in some way?

I can’t trust anyone.

Ateira’s grip loosened.

“I was just curious about what you were capable of. I’d like some time to think it over.”

“…….”

Leofric studied her carefully. He didn’t believe her.

There’s someone she desperately wants to find.

Someone important enough that she would consider bargaining for it—even if it meant marrying an enemy.

“Very well.”

“…I appreciate it.”

“Think it over. But I can’t give you too much time.”

“I understand.”

Ateira nodded. It was fair.

After all, she didn’t have much time either.