Chapter 7 Political Marriage
1049 Words
The room fell silent, leaving only the two of us. Even the air seemed to still.
Kevin unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows before pouring tea for both of us.
His forearms were defined, veins prominent beneath the skin. Though his expression was unusually focused, his movements were clumsy—my cup was filled to the brim, nearly spilling over.
Why did he roll up his sleeves just to pour tea?
It was not like he was wearing billowing robes.
Was he trying to seduce me?
Why not just claim it was too hot and take the whole shirt off?
"Let me do it," I said, placing a hand on his wrist. "It'd be a disaster if the king scalded himself on my watch."
"Alright, it's yours," he said, his brow twitching slightly as he handed over the teapot.
Steam curled upward as I poured, softening the edges of his face.
But I could feel his gaze fixed on me, watching every movement with intent.
I loosened my grip on the teapot slightly, letting it wobble. His hand shot out, steadying it with practiced ease.
"Relax. I'm not carrying a gun today," he said dryly.
His reflexes were no joke. He had to have military training.
I decided to cut straight to the point. Pulling my hand free, I scooped two heaping spoonfuls of honey into his tea.
"Why didn't you reveal your identity last night?" I demanded.
"That would've made things more awkward for you," he said, taking a sip. He seemed unsatisfied and added another two spoonfuls of honey to his cup, stirring slowly.
"Besides, this is a political marriage. Our first meeting should be formal, at least... during working hours."
Political marriage. He said it so plainly, not even bothering with the usual pleasantries to soften the blow.
The responsibility of a political alliance had never been mine to bear. That was supposed to be the real princess' role.
I raised my teacup to hide my distaste, taking a small sip.
Lemon balm tea from Kastillia. With an extra splash of lemon—my favorite.
But the only time I'd had it prepared this way recently was on the plane ride here.
My eyes narrowed at Kevin. He avoided my gaze, sipping his overly sweet tea with unnerving elegance.
'He's been observing me all along,' I realized. 'Was everything he's done—ignoring me these past days—just calculated?'
"Working hours?" I said, letting sarcasm drip into my tone. "Last night, you seemed pretty dedicated to your side gig as a palace guard."
I slammed my cup onto the table, causing the tea to splash onto my hand.
It burned, but I pretended not to notice.
"Quick-witted. Sharp tongue. You'd make a fine diplomat," Kevin said, pulling out a handkerchief and passing it to me. His gaze held an unexpected glint of admiration.
"If you'd spent the whole time crying like you did last night, I wouldn't have risked taking you out of the palace."
What was he, a masochist? The less polite I was, the more impressed he seemed.
Still, his compliment didn't feel like praise—it felt like an evaluation.
"How much did you pay to... buy me from my father?" I asked.
"A multi-billion-dollar project partnership and low-interest loans," he replied without hesitation.
The royal family's greed truly knew no bounds. My father's alleged fraud wasn't worth a fraction of that.
"Quite the price tag," I muttered, bitterness lacing my words. "Can I see the agreement?"
"Why would you want to see that?" he asked, one brow arching in surprise.
"If the agreement's already active, the projects and loans contribute to my political achievements in Kastillia. If not, the funds come from our marital assets. Either way, I have the right to know," I said, my tone firm.
I wasn't being unreasonable. A deal involving that much money would surely have leaks for me to exploit later.
"Fine. I'll have the secretary send it to you. If you're sharp enough to ask, I'm sure you can understand it," Kevin said, surprising me with how readily he agreed. "But I must remind you, all my assets belong to Luthshir. None of them are personal."
"Save the PR lines for the press," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "What do you need from me?"
"Be my wife. Play the role well in public—loving and devoted. Together, we'll present the royal family in the best light possible. Beyond that, you're not obligated to feel anything for me."
"So... less of a wife, more of a high-ranking employee," I clarified.
"Not an employee," he corrected. "A partner. If you'd like, we can draft a formal agreement."
"An agreement? What, are you going to have me sign a labor contract?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"A prenuptial agreement," he replied calmly. "You'll enjoy all the privileges of a queen. When the time is right, we can divorce without affecting the alliance between Luthshir and Kastillia. You'll be free to return to your homeland and pursue the life you want."
"You think I want to go back to Kastillia?" My fists clenched under the table.
"From the way you're talking, I thought you planned on going back to claim the throne," he said, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers as he studied me with a mix of amusement and curiosity.
Was he serious? Or just toying with me?
Not that it mattered.
I wasn't the real princess. Kastillia's fate meant nothing to me.
But as his "partner", how could I save my family?
How could I get revenge on the royal family?
And... partner?
I was young, beautiful, and desirable. Men would line up from here to the neighboring kingdom for me. And all he wanted was a partnership?
Had spending so much time with Natasha rotted his brain?
Still, this wasn't the time to question his taste. I needed to forge a deeper bond with him—something beyond mutual interests.
Pouring fresh tea into my cup, I took a sip, letting my eyes brim with unshed tears. Then I looked at him with a soft, wounded expression.
"No. I don't want to go back. What did I do wrong to make you want to send me away?"
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