Chapter 33

The night breeze carried the fragrance of the garden flowers.

In the fullness of spring, even the night breeze was gentle and warm.

Tarkan walked alone down the long corridor, lost in thought.

His footsteps were heading towards the bridal chamber prepared for the newlyweds.

This made his heart complicated.

The first night.

He had never once thought that those words would trouble him so.

He had no intention of taking anyone other than 'her' as his bride.

He would not have accepted this marriage if it were not for the sake of peace.

Even if it were a royal decree, he would have refused it to the end.

Though he had no choice but to get married, he intended to live a life completely unrelated to his wife.

Instead, he would give her all the power and wealth befitting a princess.

Among those who entered into political marriages, many did not even do this, and love was an unnecessary element in such marriages.

So he hoped that the princess would be satisfied with this level of compensation.

After all, a princess of the Silvanus family, with the blood of gold, would naturally despise a husband with such lowly blood.

But the princess was a person who did not match his expectations in any way.

"...Aristine."

He called her name softly.

Having never called it before, the pronunciation felt awkward on his tongue.

His gaze turned towards the end of the corridor.

The dim corridor glowed faintly in the moonlight and soft lighting.

Over it, the image of the corridor from midday, where the crystal curtains reflected the dazzling sunlight in a rainbow of colors, overlapped in his mind.

In that scene, Aristine, dressed in a wedding gown, walked towards him like a vision.

Her eyes, which softened when she saw him.

"One bit doesn't match."

Tarkan muttered to himself, as if to remind himself.

It was true.

There was not a single aspect of Aristine that resembled that child.

But why.

Tarkan clenched his fists.

His slow, steady steps came to an abrupt halt.

The first night, it had no meaning to him.

He was sure of that, yet he could not understand why he was so unsettled.

Aristine herself had drawn the line, saying it was a business relationship before they were even married.

So she would not have any particular demands from Tarkan regarding the first night.

'But.'

In a political marriage, a child was the most important thing.

A child, who would carry the blood of both families, was the true union.

So Aristine would naturally expect to consummate the marriage on the first night.

"Soft and fluffy."

"Soft and fluffy, you know? I like soft and fluffy. It feels good when you lie down."

"No, I don't particularly like wide spaces. As long as it's not too narrow, it's fine. Wide spaces just leave empty room."

Aristine's conversation with the palace attendants echoed in his mind.

Tarkan's eyebrows shot up, and his forehead furrowed slightly.

No matter how you looked at it, this was the image of someone expecting a tremendous night.

'I have no intention of doing that with her.'

He had no desire to share a bed with someone he did not care for.

Some men might be satisfied with having a beautiful wife, even if they did not love her, and could enjoy a pleasant night.

But Tarkan was not one of them.

Tarkan could not engage in such acts with a woman he did not love, or with a woman he did not care for.

Especially not while thinking of another woman.

Despite his wild appearance, Tarkan was pure and chaste, and he was now troubled.

Aristine was a strange woman.

She was absurd, unpredictable, and you never knew what she would do next.

And, she was a decent person.

His one and only partner.

Tarkan did not want to hurt her.

But if he refused the first night, Aristine would be hurt.

'Especially since she's looking forward to it so much.'

There was another issue besides the soft and fluffy thing.

And this one was more serious.

A week ago, the palace attendants suddenly came to him in a group and asked a question.

"Your Highness Tarkan, may I ask you a question?"

The solemn question made Tarkan somewhat puzzled.

It was rare for the palace attendants to initiate a conversation with him.

They strangely found him intimidating.

But since they asked, Tarkan readily agreed.

The attendants, who had been holding something, unfolded it at his words.

With a whoosh, an object was revealed in the air.

The attendant who had asked the question pointed to it and asked forcefully.

"Which one do you like the most?"

The five or so attendants each held...

"A nightgown for the first night!"

"For Her Highness Aristine to wear!"

The attendants chattered excitedly, their eyes sparkling with anticipation, as if urging him to choose the one they had prepared.

Tarkan had never seen the palace attendants act so energetically in the palace.

They seemed to be competing to show off the nightgowns they were holding.

Flap, flap!

Small pieces of fabric were roughly shaken.

They were things that could hardly be called nightgowns.

"...What are you doing?"

Tarkan asked with a cold, deadpan expression.

A chill even colder than the wind froze the attendants' bodies.

"Y-Your Highness, we are deeply sorry..."

"P-Pardon us..."

Seeing the attendants, who were pale and trembling, Tarkan felt his mood sour.

He clicked his tongue and turned his head.

"Leave."

At his words, the attendants shivered and crawled out of the room.

After they left, Tarkan's mood was also not good.

He had no interest in intimidating the attendants.

But he had been momentarily carried away by his anger...

The attendants, now terrified, might burst into tears at the sight of Tarkan's shadow in the future.

After a moment's thought, Tarkan left the room.

He intended to ease the attendants' fear a little.

He found the attendants easily not long after he left.

They were huddled in a corner of the garden.

Their heads were lowered, clearly very frightened.

Tarkan approached them cautiously.

"This one. The Highness's gaze lingered 0.3 seconds longer on this lingerie!"

"0.3 seconds... Then let's go with this one."

"No! The Highness's pupils dilated faster when looking at this lingerie! At the speed of sound!"

"Whoa! The speed of sound?!"

The attendants' gazes darted between the two pieces of fabric.

They were seriously discussing what they claimed were nightgowns, but they looked more like lingerie.

"What should we do..."

"They're both beautiful."

"Since the colors are different, should we choose the one that suits the princess better?"

"The princess is a fairy, so both black and white suit her well."

"That's true."

"Maybe she'll digest it well."

"What should we use..."

Sigh, the attendants let out a large sigh. They looked as if they were pondering the most difficult problem in the world.

"Let's go with black for a sexy look."

"The first night should be white!"

"That's a prejudice!"

"There's a reason for tradition!"

The attendants began to bicker.

Tarkan was frozen in place, unable to move.

"White is for the wedding dress! When it's taken off, it should show a different, surprising charm!"

At this, the attendants fell silent.

Indeed, it was the right answer.

Both would suit the princess, so it was a matter of considering the perspective of the person who would see her.

After a moment of silence, a strange laugh echoed.

The attendants' faces lit up.

"Ha ha, seeing the demure princess in a wedding dress and then this at night will be a big surprise!"

"Just a surprise? She'll be flustered!"

"Oh, if only she would put it on quickly and with His Highness..."

"Seeing the princess in this, it's game over for Tarkan."

"A man who doesn't care about women can become so persistent once he opens his eyes!"

"Oh my!"

"Maybe we'll hear news of a second child before the year is over."

The attendants laughed, a sound like pearls rolling on a tray.

There was no trace of the fear they had shown when Tarkan's aura had intimidated them.

Looking at them, Tarkan felt he could not get any closer.

He took a few steps back.

The man who had not taken a step back even in front of the great Murzica at the age of ten.

Yet, he was retreating in front of the attendants' laughter.

But he could not bring himself to face them.

* * *

Tarkan frowned, recalling the painful memory.

The black lingerie chosen by the attendants was truly terrifying.

It was so small, you wondered what it could possibly cover, and it was made of mesh.

It had strange strings and...

In any case, it was a bizarre and chaotic thing that seemed almost unbelievable to exist.

"When it's taken off, it should show a different, surprising charm!"

"Seeing the princess in this..."

"It suits her well."

The words of the attendants echoed in his mind, even though he did not want to think about them.

And in the midst of those words, Aristine stood.

Wearing black lace and string, mesh lingerie.

Tarkan could not bring himself to look down and only stared at her face.

But the delicate curve of her neck and the exposed, clean white shoulders came into view.

Her lips were slightly parted.

"Tarkan."

That voice.

Tarkan flinched, his body stiffening, and in that moment, Aristine's image vanished without a trace.

Tarkan stared at the silent air and let out a sharp breath.

He had not deliberately brought up that image.

It had come to mind involuntarily due to the attendants' words.

Tarkan rubbed his eyes with his palm.

And at that moment,

"Huh?"

A voice carried on the night breeze.

Tarkan slowly lowered his hand from his eyes.

He knew who it was.

He already knew.

From that one syllable.

Aristine smiled at him.

Her skin, fresh from a bath, was even more radiant than usual, and her hair was slightly damp.

Her cheeks were flushed, her lips moist.

And the nightgown.

Fortunately, the nightgown was ordinary.

The white, thin dress was not at all revealing for a first night.

It was not among the nightgowns the attendants had brought.

It was a piece of fabric, like a bedsheet, that was the size of a palm.

The nightgown Aristine was wearing now looked light and comfortable.

Since it was a normal outfit, Tarkan had no reason to be surprised.

However...

As Aristine took each step, her white ankles were revealed and then hidden by the hem of the dress.

Her shinbones were round and had a slight pink tinge. They looked smooth.

Tarkan quickly raised his gaze.

He met Aristine's eyes directly.

Her long hair was left loose, without any styling.

The silver strands swayed in the wind.

Her slow approach from the end of the corridor overlapped with the image from the day.

At that time, Aristine had also walked towards him like this.

The sight of her in a comfortable nightgown was different from her appearance in the wedding gown and elaborate makeup during the day.

But it was the same.

Aristine, who had now approached him, looked up at Tarkan.

"The timing is perfect."

A sweet fragrance filled the air.

It was the scent of being in a garden of flowers at night.

"It's been a long day. Let's go to bed."

Aristine's hand reached out to Tarkan.

Her hand, which glowed white in the moonlight, looked even more delicate and weak than usual.

Her hand touched Tarkan's wrist.

It was warm, unlike the cool touch of the day after the bath.

Tarkan could not push her away.

The touch was too soft and delicate, as if it would disappear if he handled it roughly.

She took his hand and led him.

With each step, it seemed as if the flower petals underfoot were crushed, releasing their fragrance.

Tarkan watched the silver hair, which swayed like a silver thread in the dark.

How long had it been?

Aristine stopped abruptly.

Tarkan finally came to his senses.

They were in front of the bridal chamber.

"Let's make some money, shall we?"