A Marriage to Regain Trust
Around the time Sarasa finished trimming my hair, one of the maids returned.
It was Lilia, who had only recently become one of my attendants.
Her bright blonde hair was tied in a half-up style, and she wore a troubled expression—as if she were struggling to remember what she had for dinner last night.
“Lilia? Is something wrong?”
When I asked, she hastily bowed her head.
“No, Your Majesty. The carriage is ready. We can depart at any time.”
“I see… In that case, let’s head out.”
Sarasa handed me a small mirror, and I looked at myself.
Seeing my reflection, I almost let out an “Oh…” in surprise.
(I really did cut it quite a bit…)
I lightly touched the ends of my hair.
My hair now only reached my chin.
Considering that it used to flow all the way down to my waist, the change was shocking even to me.
A dramatic before-and-after, as they’d say in my previous life.
If this were the modern world, someone would surely ask, “Did you get your heart broken?”
On top of that, my naturally wavy hair wasn’t helping—the ends bounced about mischievously in all directions.
Despite Mary’s efforts to smooth it with oil, I’d probably look like I’d just gotten out of bed after only a few hours.
With a sigh, I combined wind and fire magic—two of the five primary elemental magics—and cast a spell on myself.
“Ένα μείγμα ζέστης και ανέμου.”
In an instant, a gentle warmth enveloped my hair.
Ever since I regained my memories of my past life, I’ve come to believe that magic theory is surprisingly similar to mathematics and science.
Especially when it comes to constructing magic formulas—the structure and logic are almost impossible to grasp without understanding physics.
Though my magic is largely self-taught and based on intuition, those who’ve properly studied magic from the ground up create truly beautiful magic circles.
Thinking about such things, I peered into the hand mirror.
There, reflected back at me, was a woman—myself—with a sleek bob, as if styled with a curling iron.
It was what modern people would call an inward-curled short bob.
As I admired the neat result, a voice of awe came from diagonally behind me.
“That was Your Majesty’s magic, wasn’t it?”
It was Sarasa.
She had originally served the Clausenitzer household.
Our relationship went back to before I became queen—she was even my milk sister.
She was the attendant I trusted most.
Returning the mirror to her with a wry smile, I nodded.
“Yes.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that.”
Just then, Mary returned, having put away the oil.
When she realized I had used magic, her eyes widened.
“Wait, Your Majesty used magic!? I wish I could’ve seen it…!!”
“Her Majesty’s magic is practically a miracle. It’s like a magic trick—over in an instant. Completely different from anyone else’s magic.”
Sarasa spoke proudly, and I let out a silent, wry smile.
The reason my magic looked different from others’ was simple.
I’m self-taught and lack a proper understanding of magic theory.
(… I was hopeless at math and science in my previous life too!)
Perhaps that weakness carried over into this life.
Speaking of which, when His Majesty first dumped state affairs on me, it was just numbers, numbers, geography, history, international relations… and more numbers…
I thought I was going to faint from the sheer volume of it.
And in the end, after fighting a hopeless battle with numbers, I literally collapsed with a fever brought on by mental exhaustion.
(Ugh, now I’ve reminded myself of that miserable time…)
Shaking my head to chase the memory away, I reminded myself of the reason I avoided using magic at the castle.
It was a simple one.
His Majesty was terrible with magic.
Because of that, I refrained not only from using magic but even from speaking about it in his presence.
After all, our marriage was unmistakably political.
This marriage existed to restore the diluted bloodline, to restore the waning trust in the nobility.
☆
The previous queen was from a foreign land.
She had served for many years as a concubine in another country’s royal harem, only returning home after the king’s death as a widow.
She was known as the “Returned Princess” and was apparently quite unpopular in her homeland.
The very fact that she chose to return home after the king’s death was considered unusual.
Apparently, that harem had dozens of concubines, yet only a handful returned to their own countries like she did.
(Well… that’s understandable, I suppose…)
Those who returned faced cold stares and an unwelcoming environment.
Most of the concubines likely preferred to remain in the harem where they had stability.
Unless they desperately missed their homeland or had some unavoidable reason to return.
I don’t know why she returned, but in any case, she came back to her homeland.
And it was while she endured being treated coldly as the “Returned Princess” that she met our country’s king—the previous king.
The king fell in love with her at first sight and immediately proposed, ignoring all opposition, forcing the marriage through.
(As expected, the nobles of Leviathan were outraged. The previous king already had a fiancée, yet he broke off the engagement and married her. It’s no wonder there was such an uproar…)
The nobles were harsh toward her, and being a foreigner only worsened their attitude.
Eventually, a few years after becoming queen, she passed away.
That left the royal couple with only one child.
That child was the current king—Brian.
With Brian as the sole direct descendant of the royal line, the pressure to produce an heir was inevitable.
But my marriage to him was what they call a white marriage—a marriage without physical relations.
Brian saw his mistress, Veronica, as his true love.
Thus, I was caught in the middle—pressured from all sides to produce an heir, yet rejected by my husband.
For the past three years, that deadlock had continued, unchanged.
What do you think about this chapter?
