Blair called out to her, doing her best to keep her voice even.

However unsettling Vivian’s eyes had been, she was still Kalintz’s birth mother and King Rubens’s official love. She had not threatened Blair in any way, and Blair could not simply bolt from her as though she were a madwoman.

“Your Highness? What are you doing out here……!”

Tilda stepped through the curtain onto the terrace and her expression stiffened slightly at the sight of Vivian. But she quickly composed herself and greeted her with proper courtesy.

“She must have come looking for me when I slipped out without a word. This is Tilda Royce, my maid.”

Blair smiled and spoke naturally. But Vivian only looked at Blair in silence.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’ll take our leave first. I’m afraid I’ve caused some worry by disappearing so abruptly.”

“……Very well. Let’s have tea sometime.”

Her eyes had gone hollow again. She answered without feeling and turned her gaze beyond the terrace.

“It was a…… pleasant conversation, Lady Vivian.”

Blair paid her respects politely and stepped off the terrace. Then she walked away as quickly as she could.

She walked in silence, and only stopped once she had put a good distance between herself and that terrace.

“Your Highness, are you all right? What were you two talking about in there?”

Tilda asked with a worried look.

“Tilda.”

Blair quickly scanned the surroundings to make sure no one was within earshot, then asked quietly.

“Do you happen to know anything about her?”

“Lady Vivian? No, that was actually my first time seeing her in person.”

“Is that so?”

Blair furrowed her brow, recalling the look on Vivian’s face, the madness that had flickered in her eyes.

“Ah…… come to think of it, there was a rumor that circulated among the nobles.”

“A rumor?”

Tilda lowered her voice to a whisper.

“That her relationship with His Majesty the King…… is no longer what it used to be. And has not been for quite some time.”

Tilda added that it had been more than ten years.

Even after being forced to marry Queen Rhea, King Rubens had continued to show unwavering affection for Vivian. But at some point, he had gradually stopped seeking her out.

“So that’s why she said what she said.”

“What did she say?”

“……She seemed to despise His Majesty the King deeply.”

She had said more than despise, that she hated him enough to want to kill him, but Blair held that back quietly.

She had no desire to say it aloud carelessly, and when it came to matters of love between two people, there was no reason for her to weigh in.

It was a little startling, though, that she had said it about her own son.

He may look at you that way now, but one day it will change.

Whatever way that was, it made no difference either way. This was a contract marriage, with no possibility of anything changing to begin with.

She was trying to push away the uneasy feeling when a familiar clear voice came from behind her.

“I finally have a chance to speak with you, Your Highness the Princess Consort.”

“Selina?”

Tilda greeted her warmly, and Selina snapped her fan shut with a crisp click and put on a prim expression.

“Goodness, both the maid and Her Highness. How can you both be so impossible to catch?”

“Selina, be fair. You were just as busy. How many people did you dance with tonight?”

Blair said with a small laugh. From what she had seen alone, Selina had danced with four or five different partners and had even slipped away to the terrace for a private conversation.

“That’s my own version of making a living. And when else would I get to enjoy this kind of attention?”

True enough, Selina was currently the only frons-born lady in society with complete freedom.

Blair had become princess consort, Tilda was staying at the palace and had difficulty attending social parties in the capital, and Olivia had not been able to show her face in society after what had happened not long ago.

Selina looked positively delighted, saying she intended to meet a number of prospects and find herself a proper husband.

“Speaking of which, why were you looking for me? Aren’t you busy hunting for a husband?”

Blair asked in a teasing tone, and Selina put on a rather serious expression, saying she had nearly forgotten something important.

“Come this way for a moment.”

She glanced around and led Blair to a quiet corner. Then she dropped her voice considerably.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“Hmm? About what?”

“What else, the most important event of the evening.”

“Is there one?”

Blair’s expression said she had no idea what Selina was talking about, and Selina looked exasperated.

“The wedding night, the wedding night. Your first night!”

“What?”

So that was what she was on about. A wedding night, out of nowhere.

“No, why do you look so unbothered? Don’t tell me……”

Selina dropped her voice even lower and whispered.

“Your Highness, you already have a great deal of experience—”

“Selina! What on earth are you saying!”

Tilda, listening from beside them, gasped and smacked Selina on the arm.

“What’s so shocking about it, it’s perfectly possible. I heard free love is all the rage in the eastern continent.”

“S, still…!”

“It’s all right, Tilda. It’s nothing like that.”

Blair laughed at Tilda, who was more flustered than Blair herself.

It was not as Selina suggested, but Blair had not a shred of worry about the wedding night. Unlike the wedding ceremony, where she had to kiss in front of everyone, the wedding night took place with just the two of them.

In the old days, certain attendants had apparently served as witnesses to the wedding night, or proof of it had been shown to others, but that custom had long since died out.

No one watching means nothing to worry about.

All she needed to do was arrange things to look convincingly like it had taken place.

Of course, she could not explain any of that to Selina or Tilda.

“I know what to do. Lady Camille gave me instruction.”

It was not a lie. A few days ago, a middle-aged noble lady in Queen Rhea’s service had explained various etiquette matters relating to the union between a man and a woman.

When Blair relayed what she had been told, Selina immediately clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“I knew it. What kind of outdated etiquette manual is that explanation straight out of?”

Selina sighed deeply.

“If you follow Lady Camille’s advice, it’s guaranteed to go badly.”

“Th, then what should one do?”

Tilda, who had been quietly listening, asked with careful curiosity. Her eyes were full of interest, which was unexpected from someone who seemed so innocent.

“Forget everything else. There’s only one thing you need to remember.”

Selina said it with a grave expression.

“Be honest. If something feels good, say so. If it doesn’t, say that too. When we eat, we try different things and have more of what we like and less of what we don’t, right? It’s the same idea.”

“You, you’re saying all of that out loud? Wasn’t the proper thing to simply lie still and let your husband take the lead?”

“And what use is that kind of thin-veiled propriety?”

Selina said it like a reprimand in response to Tilda’s words.

“The only thin thing you need in bed is the nightgown you’re wearing, apparently.”

“……Who on earth told you all this?”

Blair asked, and Selina smiled with great satisfaction.

“Lady Astarte.”

“My goodness! The one who’s had seven children?”

Tilda and Selina looked thoroughly excited, and Blair could only offer a faint smile.

Selina went on to share several more memorable pieces of advice, but none of it was particularly relevant to Blair’s situation, so she let it wash over her.

The chaotic banquet finally came to an end, and the moon hanging in the night sky had grown full and ripe.

Blair sat alone in her room and opened a locked drawer with a key.

“Tonight is an important night, after all.”

Though not in the way Selina had meant.

Blair took out the carefully kept roll of parchment.

It was a contract. One that was absolutely necessary for two years of contract marriage ahead.

Blair looked at the contract she had written over several sleepless nights with a satisfied expression.

Spending that long night awkwardly doing nothing is far less productive than working this out.

She was flipping through it one more time to check for any mistakes when she heard a knock.

“Your Highness the Princess Consort, Lady Camille has arrived.”

At Lucia’s words, Blair quickly rolled the contract up and tied it with a string.

Lady Camille and several other maids came in and began the preparations for the wedding night. Blair had already bathed in rosewater earlier, but they brought another scented oil and applied it carefully to her neck, chest, waist, and wrists.

“Now you only need to change.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Lady Cami…… what is this?”

Blair had been about to comply quietly when she caught sight of what Lady Camille was holding and recoiled.

“It is your nightgown, Your Highness.”

It was exactly the flimsy scrap of fabric Selina had described.