It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 66 (Slight R19)

Valter Bianchi was the leader of Black Heart. When Marcus heard the news through Eliza, he wasn’t particularly shocked. After all, Valter Bianchi had been caught up in a similar scandal during the assassination attempt on the crown prince.

Given everything he’d done to frame the Tower Master, it made perfect sense.

Even the crown prince had suspected him. It would’ve been more surprising if someone else had turned out to be the culprit.

Marcus had just finished questioning a mage recently expelled from the Tower, and clicked his tongue in frustration. He had been investigating under direct orders from the Tower Master, only for the enemy leader to appear so suddenly and expose himself.

“Well, nothing I can do. The Tower Master stepped in personally.”

Still, looking at Valter Bianchi’s downfall—how he ended up like this after turning against the Tower Master—Marcus couldn’t help but wonder if that furious man who’d cursed him during the awards ceremony had truly been onto something.

“No, this isn’t the time to dwell on that. I still haven’t found out where they got the Xeramatz…”

The artifact was incredibly dangerous—possibly a demonic curse or a toxin. Marcus thought back to the time he’d crossed paths with Valter Bianchi. His sensitivity to demonic energy was higher than most. He could often sense whether someone had formed a contract with demons or been exposed to them.

Did Valter Bianchi reek of demonic influence?

Marcus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He remembered brushing past him, but in truth, there had been quite a bit of distance between them. Still, a contracted one gave off such a strong scent, he was confident he’d have noticed it.

So no—Valter probably wasn’t under a contract.

He did carry that arrogance, that strange dullness in specific areas—traits typical of those who had made pacts with demons—but he wasn’t foolish enough to go that far. He hadn’t been desperate enough either.

“Did he just stumble across it? Demons do love throwing the human world into chaos…”

War was their favorite tool. Most demonic contracts were made when humans had fallen so low, they had no way to climb back up without help—when they were desperate and broken.

And war created the perfect conditions to breed that kind of despair.

That’s why Marcus suspected the demons hated the Alstead royal family. For hundreds of years, Alstead had maintained a stable reign without causing any major wars—something demons likely found intolerable.

“Do you think I could interrogate Bianchi myself?”

Marcus asked, speaking through the crystal orb. His close friend Eliza was contacting him from the back of her summoned beast—a massive bird she used for long-distance travel.

Whenever there was someone to transport or a need for speed, Eliza didn’t hesitate to summon it.

—No way. I’ve already contacted the imperial palace. If I hadn’t, my summon would’ve been attacked.

Eliza’s voice sounded a little apologetic. Summons that large couldn’t fly near cities or towns without warning. If she didn’t send word ahead of time, they could be shot down by arrows—or, occasionally, even magic attacks.

“I see. Thanks for telling me. I’m not being sent back right after I arrive in the capital, right?”

—No one’s given me that order yet. Actually…

Eliza was also hoping to find out where Marcus was staying. With the princess’s wedding coming up, the city’s inns and hotels were almost fully booked. She wanted Marcus to reserve rooms for her and her subordinates too.

Marcus agreed, then ended the magical connection. It was disappointing that he wouldn’t get the chance to interrogate Valter Bianchi himself—but that didn’t mean he was out of options.

“I can leak what I know to the crown prince and then eavesdrop on the interrogation.”

He could try the official route—identify himself and formally request to observe the questioning—but unless the Tower Master backed him, that would be difficult.

“Better to sneak a listen.”

Thankfully, the empire’s level of magical security wasn’t very high. And the crown prince likely wouldn’t bring in extra mages just to oversee the interrogation. That meant the odds of getting caught were low.

Their hands moved quickly, almost desperately, as they undressed each other. The moment the shower turned on, Achilles washed the tear tracks from his face. He didn’t say anything, but he was deeply embarrassed that he had cried in front of Charlize.

“I really do like Achilles… but I still don’t know how to express it.”

It wasn’t like what she had felt for Valter. That had been shallow—something she could’ve walked away from without pain. But this was different. She liked being loved by Achilles. She wanted to make him happy. She missed him when he wasn’t near.

“I want to touch you, Princess. May I wash you?”

“Let me do it today!”

Charlize responded with bright eyes, making Achilles pause. But the thought of her soft, delicate hands touching him filled him with anticipation. And yet…

“Washing someone is actually pretty tiring. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“I’m fine. You must be even more tired than I am. Besides, you’ve washed me plenty of times.”

“That’s only because I used it as an excuse to touch you, Princess.”

Achilles thought their physical stamina was vastly different. He could handle things easily, while Charlize often had to push herself just to keep up.

“Well, I… I want to touch you too, Achilles… So please, let me.”

Even though her face burned red, she managed to say it. Achilles simply looked at her. Then, with a hand wet from the shower, he gently touched her flushed cheek.

“Then… I’ll leave it to you.”
“Okay!”

Charlize eagerly reached for the shower wash and began working up a generous lather. Normally, she would rub her skin with a soft cloth or sponge, but this time…

‘Oh no!’

As she brought her soapy hands to Achilles’s chest, she found herself unexpectedly nervous. His chest was broad and firm—solid muscle beneath her palms. Her hands froze there for a moment, and Achilles tilted his head slightly, asking:

“Are you going to touch me or not?”

“Aahh!”

Charlize yelped, startled, and quickly pulled her hands away. When she lost her balance on the slick floor, Achilles caught her before she could fall.

“The floor is slippery. And since I asked you to touch me, feel free to explore however you like.”

“H-how am I supposed to touch you when you say it like that?!”

Blushing furiously, Charlize protested. Achilles looked genuinely puzzled.

“But I gave you permission.”

“I-I need a minute… My heart’s racing…”

Charlize tried to calm herself, resting her soapy hands on his chest. But just then, Achilles reached out and gently cupped her breast. Her already flushed face turned even redder.

“W-why are you touching my chest?”

“Because I want to. Is that not allowed?”

“I mean, it’s not that it’s not allowed but—ah!”

His fingers gently rubbed the lather across her chest, eventually kneading her breast in his palm. Between the white bubbles, her nipple grew visibly firm. Achilles teased it playfully, whispering:

“Princess, you’ve gotten hard here.”

“Y-you don’t need to say that out loud! Ahn—!”

His hand slid between her thighs, brushing over her most sensitive spot. Charlize shuddered, but before she could pull away, Achilles wrapped an arm around her waist and slipped a finger inside.

“Aah—why…?”

“My patience is limited. Couldn’t Your Highness wash me with me inside you?”

As he spoke, his fingers moved steadily inside her, stroking and curling. Charlize didn’t know what to do with herself, her cheeks crimson.

“You’re already melting inside, Princess. Did just seeing me like this turn you on?”

“N-no! That’s not it!”

“You’re not a good liar. It shows on your face.”

A second finger slipped in, stretching her gently. The deeper touch made her knees weak.

“I-it’s not… ngh…”

“Please touch me too. I wouldn’t mind being your toy, Princess.”

His fingers stirred her in a way that felt far too good. Gasping softly, Charlize finally placed her hands on Achilles’s chest. It wasn’t just because of what he said—she had been wanting to touch him.

‘He’s so firm… and warm…’

Not a trace of fat, each muscle perfectly defined—it was like touching a statue. She was amazed a Tower Master, not a knight, had such a body. Then again, she herself was naturally slim and toned as well.

‘…Is this just how the genre works?’

“Eep?!”

A deeper push, and his fingers curled, brushing a spot that made her whole-body jolt. Achilles pulled her closer, holding her tightly.

“What’s on your mind, Princess?”

He leaned down, their eyes meeting. His gaze burned with heat. Charlize gulped and stammered out the thought that had popped into her head.

“Y-your chest…?”

“……”

“And your abs…”

“You can touch other places too.”

Charlize nodded slowly. When she let her hands explore down to his sides, Achilles twitched slightly, ticklish. She smiled mischievously and reached around to his back—broad, strong, and satisfying to touch.

‘When we’re married, this’ll all be mine…!’

Even now, it already felt a little like he belonged to her, and that filled her chest with joy. As her hands roamed more boldly, Achilles gave a soft smile.

“Do you like it? You can have it.”

‘He’s way too sincere—it’s kind of scary…’

Embarrassed, Charlize lowered her eyes. With one hand still covered in soap, she slid it down and touched his waist.

“Then… I want you too. Ah!”

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