Chapter 87

Lirika's small lips parted in surprise. She never thought the word 'contract' would come out of His Majesty's mouth.

Her mother had said, "It's an absolute secret," many times, and His Majesty had shown no signs of it. So, she thought he didn't know that she was aware of the contract.

Seeing Lirika's eyes widen in shock, Altair said,

"Eight years as Empress, or is it six now? I hope you can properly be a princess for the remaining period."

Lirika blinked. Although it was her mother's business, she felt she was bound by an invisible verbal agreement and had been trying hard to be an excellent princess.

But now, he wanted to formalize the contract.

His Majesty was saying that.

Before she knew it, an excuse slipped out.

"I, I'm already working hard—"

"I know. But it's different, isn't it? With a verbal agreement, it's ambiguous to claim rights from this side."

"Rights?"

"Yes."

Despite her skepticism, Lirika understood the story. A formal contract meant Lirika could act 'as she pleased.' As a princess, she couldn't be forced to do specific tasks.

"If we make a contract..."

"It's a six-year contract, and the termination or extension of the contract will be by mutual agreement. And in exchange for the contract, how about ten gold chests and one chest of jewels per year?"

After saying this, he laughed, "Is it too stingy?"

But Lirika, who was listening, felt differently. Lirika was so surprised her eyes nearly popped out.

A gold chest wasn't that big. If it were too large, it would be too heavy to move. Gold coins were hard to count individually, so they used gold chests, which were measured by weight.

One gold chest was 10 kg.

Ten chests would be 100 kg.

Her eyes spun.

It was an amount Lirika had never even imagined. Plus, a chest of jewels—frankly, she didn't know the unit.

"Th-That much..."

"Too much? Considering the work, it might not be."

Hearing Altair's words, Lirika quickly started calculating in her head. She wasn't sure, but was he planning to give her a difficult task?

But ten gold chests per year...

'In six years, for heaven's sake, 600 kg of gold...'

Receiving so much usually came with significant risks. You had to give as much as you received.

Everyone wanted a profitable deal. When giving money, they expected to get more in return.

Lirika stammered,

"I, I can't get married."

Altair raised an eyebrow, wondering what she was talking about.

"I can't be a spy, and I can't betray friends either..."

Altair laughed loudly at her stammering.

"Which country's princess are you, anyway?"

Lirika's cheeks flushed.

"But, with so much..."

"It's not that much. Okay, if you really don't want to do something, you don't have to. How about these conditions?"

'Too good to be true?'

But the amount was so tempting. She had always lived by the rule of not being greedy, but with that much money, she could decorate her house however she wanted.

She had read a book that said building a house was the ultimate luxury. A single pane of flat glass cost as much as a gold coin.

If she built a glass greenhouse, it would cost a year's worth of the money His Majesty offered.

So, she decided to just look at such things in books. But...

'He said I don't have to do what I really don't want to do.'

"Okay."

Gathering her courage, she shook hands on the reckless contract.

"Will you specify in the contract that I don't have to do what I really don't want to do?"

"Of course."

Hearing Altair's words, Lirika's eyes widened. They were puffy from crying, but Altair suppressed his laughter.

"I'll do it."

Like a bold merchant, Lirika spoke firmly.

"Good."

Altair smiled.

"Then call me Dad."

* * *

When they returned to the palace, Attil was waiting in the White Dragon Hall. He was ready to scold her, but seeing Lirika's face, he held back his words.

"Go wash up and go to bed."

He ruffled her hair and sighed.

Lirika, emotionally drained, stumbled to wash up and collapsed into bed early.

The bedding inside was warm, ironed by Brin. She pulled up the large, light, half-wool, half-air blanket.

At first, she found it hard to touch the luxurious bedding, but now she was used to the carriage bed.

Getting used to luxury was indeed easy.

'Still...'

They agreed to call him 'Father' instead of 'Dad.' Thinking about it made her cheeks flush, but...

Lirika couldn't think any further and fell asleep with a small smile.

Lirika slept happily, but Rudia and Altair did not.

There was no need to hide the contract, and they didn't know what would happen if they did, so Altair had already told Rudia about it.

"Have the contract reviewed by your side."

Hearing Altair's words, Rudia pouted.

"What's your ulterior motive?"

"Anyway, she's a 'princess.' The older she gets, the more she needs to play the 'princess' role. It's not free labor, is it?"

"I won't make Lirika do anything."

"Still, she's a princess. She needs to live like a real princess—she's trying, but it's hard to fully accept, isn't it?"

Altair looked at Rudia straight in the eye.

"Setting it as a job seems to make Lirika feel more at ease."

Just like you.

He swallowed the last part.

"..."

Rudia couldn't refute his point and bit her lip. The man in front of her was infuriating. Her feelings were complicated.

She let out a final remark.

"You made her call you Dad."

"A, she said she didn't like it, so we compromised on 'Father.'"

Altair smiled.

"I said she doesn't have to do what she really doesn't want to do. If she really didn't want to, she wouldn't have called me that."

Hearing Altair's words, Rudia pouted.

But she saw her daughter's expression when she called him that and thought it might be for the best.

With a contract, it was safe and she could enjoy it for a set period.

Of course, there were those who arbitrarily changed or broke contracts, but Altair was a dragon. He wouldn't do that.

'After all, he said it's like having a real daughter.'

Formally contracting might be better.

In the end, Rudia surrendered and raised her hands. She would give up on finding Lirika a father for now.

'At least it's this person.'

Fortunately.

Rudia didn't even realize the faint sense of relief and placed her hand on her chest, sighing.

The next day, Lirika signed the contract that Rudia had reviewed several times.

After signing, she felt something had changed.

She had formally contracted.

Just that made her feel different deep down. Lirika clutched the contract and hesitantly asked,

"Can I tell Brin and Raub?"

Rudia and Altair looked at each other. Altair nodded.

"To those two."

"Tell them if they swear the Oath of the Dead."

"My wife has a bad taste."

"Call it being cautious."

"It's a good thing."

Seeing her husband's smile, Rudia couldn't help but laugh.

Lirika nodded. Clutching the contract, she returned and dismissed everyone, leaving only her two subordinates.

"I have something important to tell you, His Majesty—no, Father."

Saying this, Lirika smiled. Written contracts were the best. Calling Altair 'Father' wasn't as hard as she thought. Clearing her throat, Lirika continued,

"Father and Mother are also involved, so he said to have you swear the Oath of the Dead. I'm not sure, but it sounds like a scary oath."

Lirika tilted her head.

"Maybe you don't have to hear it. What do you think?"

"We'll do it."

"We will."

They answered smoothly without hesitation.

Lirika took out the contract and explained the situation. They listened without surprise.

After finishing the story, the young princess looked at them, asking, "What do you think?"

Raub said calmly,

"I will follow you wherever you go."

In contrast, Brin looked thoughtful. After examining the contract, he smiled.

"I will serve you sincerely until the contract ends."

Both were positive responses. It would have been difficult if they had said they would abandon everything to follow her.

"Then promise not to talk about what you heard here outside."

Brin spoke first, clearly.

"Everything I heard here will be swallowed by the dead and turned to silence. If I break this silence, my open mouth will devour me."

"Everything I heard here is dedicated to the dead. When the offering is pulled from the altar, the dead will overwhelm me."

Raub followed.

'Similar, yet different.'

Swearing by the dead was eerie. After the oath, the atmosphere became serious, and Lirika glanced at them. But soon, Brin said, "Very Wolf-like and elegant," and the tension eased.

* * *

Fjord, having organized his thoughts, said to Lirika,

"I'm going to return now."

"Go quickly."

Attil, who was having tea with them, rud