It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 38

After finishing her bath alone, Charlize suddenly found herself feeling flustered.
It was true, she had planned to seduce Achilles and even spend the night with him. But the night they shared… it had been a lot.

‘It’s not like we did everything I imagined, but…’

It was embarrassing, but also good.
If she were to marry Achilles, would they have nights like that regularly? Not every day, of course but from time to time?

‘Ah, no! Get a grip! You lured him into your bedroom to make him lose interest in you!’

No matter how amazing last night had been, nothing was more precious than her life.
Even if she was destined to be married off like a pawn to some noble for the Empire’s gain, she still wanted to survive.

‘My life is precious!’

That’s why she had to make Achilles lose interest in her.
And yet…

“Not at all…?”

Just this morning, he looked like he would have taken her again if she had so much as hinted, she wanted it.
Last night only ended because she was physically exhausted—not because Achilles had lost interest.

When she recalled the way, he had thrust into her, bold and relentless, her cheeks burned all over again.

‘R-right. One time isn’t enough for him to lose interest.’

And to make matters worse, Achilles had said he liked her.
He didn’t seem like the kind of man to love lightly. If he was serious, it might take a while before those feelings faded.

‘Did he really examine my body properly?’

She thought back to the way he had touched her, kissed her, overwhelmed her.
Honestly, she had been so caught up in the pleasure and the way he made her moan, it was hard to tell what he was doing half the time.

One thing was for certain—she had felt incredible.

‘Ah… this is so embarrassing.’

Truthfully, she had lost sight of her original plan far too early.
His kisses had felt so good, his touch so warm, that she hadn’t resisted at all. Even when he’d gone down on her—something she had found utterly shameful—she had still felt everything.

Should she call him again tonight?

The moment the thought crossed her mind, Charlize’s face turned beet red.
She couldn’t let things continue like this. She felt like she was losing ground to Achilles.

‘At this rate, I really will end up marrying him!’

“Your Highness, don’t you like the meal?”

Molly, the maid, asked cautiously as she watched the princess turn red, then pale, over and over while holding her fork.

Charlize jumped and quickly shook her head.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll call you when I’m done… You don’t need to wait on me. More importantly… how is the investigation into the assassination attempt going?”

“I haven’t heard any new rumors. Right now, most attention has shifted to the investigation into the baron and his son. Everyone’s watching the Bianchi family closely.”

“…”

Charlize didn’t ask about Valter.

She had been deeply shocked when she heard Ralph’s damning accusations.
She hadn’t thought Valter would go that far just to stop her marriage.

She was still wondering why—when suddenly, the incident with Oscar happened.

Just remembering that blood-chilling moment made her wonder if maybe she really should just marry Achilles and leave for the Magic Tower.

The threat to Oscar seemed tied to the fact that she remained in the Empire.
Even though the Magic Tower was technically part of the Empire, becoming the Tower Master’s wife would likely make her ineligible for the throne.

‘The investigation must not be going well. If they’re spreading rumors to rattle the Bianchi family, it shows how desperate they are…’

If the Imperial investigators truly intended to go after the Bianchi family, they would have done so in secret.
Charlize might be royalty, but she had little actual power.
If even her maid knew about the investigation, it meant the noise was intentional.

‘So… we’re no longer friends, are we?’

She hoped not. But if Valter had any involvement in the attempt on the Crown Prince’s life, then he was no longer on her side.

Charlize decided she wouldn’t interact with Valter—or anyone from the Bianchi family—until her suspicions were completely gone.

The organization’s atmosphere had grown cold after the failure.
They didn’t know who their true master was, or even what their ultimate goal was—but they did know one thing: failure was not tolerated.

They had already wiped away all traces.
Punishment, they assumed, would come later—once things had calmed down. The Crown Prince’s pursuit had turned out to be more persistent than expected.

What surprised them most was that the body of the knight who had directly exposed the prince to the demonic curse had vanished.

At first, they assumed someone from their own group had taken it to destroy any remaining evidence—but that wasn’t the case.

Even the knight’s family had not claimed the body.
Yet someone had taken it.

The Crown Prince’s knights had been guarding it, but none of them had managed to identify the person who retrieved it.

‘There must have been something left on the corpse.’

Any real clue would’ve come from the living knight’s testimony, but they were confident the Crown Prince and his investigators had no idea what was actually important.

The assassin knight had died under torture—killed by their own hands.
And from what they could tell, Oscar didn’t even know that had happened.

‘The critical point is this: our “master” may be within the Bianchi family.’

They had used a disgraced baron’s son to try to smear the Tower Master, but only a very small number of people knew that Viscount Valter Bianchi had been the one who gave the order.

The higher ranks of the organization were stunned when Valter was suddenly named as a suspect.
There was no way Ralph could’ve uncovered that kind of information on his own.

Someone had clearly helped the fallen baron.

But Ralph died while all attention was focused on the Crown Prince.
He had stabbed himself through the heart. Unless a high priest had used all their divine power, survival was impossible.

And in the banquet hall, where the award ceremony had been held, no one was going to show that kind of mercy.

‘Who could it be? Don’t tell me… the Tower Master?’

Even after the incident, the Tower Master hadn’t made any noticeable moves.
He simply continued to visit the princess.
Orders from above had told them to stay quiet for now, so they did just that—keeping a close watch on him in silence.

Marcus stood still for a moment after giving instructions to bury the body, lost in thought.
He didn’t feel any particular duty to give a proper grave to someone guilty of trying to assassinate the Crown Prince—but he had no choice.
In exchange, he had managed to get some information from the knight’s spirit.

Though, in truth, that soul hadn’t known much either.

‘This is going to be a problem.’

The Tower Master had a deep interest in the case.
Partly because it involved the brother of the woman he loved—but more importantly, because of the curse that had been used.

Xeramatz.

It was the same curse that had plagued Achilles and taken his parents from him.
He believed with certainty that his parents would still be alive if not for that curse, which had driven them into a fatal battle against monsters.

And whoever was selling such a curse to humans—most likely a demon—was someone Achilles wanted to find and destroy.

But the knight’s spirit hadn’t provided anything useful.

The temple had banned soul summoning magic for a reason: spirits could lie.
If the dead still held onto desires or grudges, they often distorted the truth—or simply made things up.

Especially if the summoning served someone’s personal goals.

Still, Marcus didn’t believe the knight had lied to him.
If anything, the man likely wanted revenge against the ones who had dragged him into this situation.

The knight had even put on an act of mourning—pretending to be upset that his noble status had been stripped away.

‘Selfish, as always.’

Like most people who have affairs, he probably thought his risky behavior would never be discovered.
When the trap closed in, he turned his resentment toward the Countess—maybe not without reason.

He had been a royal knight, sure, but far too insignificant for a woman like her to throw herself at—yet he hadn’t doubted her until she started threatening him.

That was when the suspicion began to grow in him.

‘The Crown Prince will probably suspect the same thing. Which means I need to dig elsewhere. Like… Count Lisette.’

Even if he trusted his subordinate, could he really have had no idea that his wife was involved with a knight?

‘First, I need to find out how that man ended up as a royal guard in the first place.’

With that thought, Marcus glanced over at the mages under his command.
They had been pulled out of the Tower to work on this case under the Master’s orders—but none of them looked the slightest bit unhappy.

In fact, they were all fully committed to the same cause: ensuring the Tower Master’s marriage went through without issue.
Some were still furious, raging about how someone had tried to harm the brother of their future Mistress.

“They could’ve at least waited until after the wedding!!”

“Sir Marcus, the burial is complete. As for the headstone…”

“No need. He was a criminal. If we engrave a name, someone will just come digging later.”

They had used magic to dig the ground, place the body, and refill the grave—everything done in minutes.
Then they stuck a crude wooden cross on top—two sticks tied together, barely resembling a marker.

“He should be grateful for even this. Originally, he would’ve been left out in the wild to be eaten by beasts.”

Even if he wasn’t grateful, Marcus didn’t care.
He turned to his team and said calmly:

“We’re going back to the capital.”

In an instant, all eight figures dissolved into light and vanished into the air.

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