The Villainess Proposed a Contractual Marriage

About two months had passed since the Emperor's birthday celebration. The scorching summer sun beat down on the earth.

Glen, as usual, attended to Elphisia while inwardly contemplating. It seemed that Elphisia Luminel had undergone a change of heart.

'She's become gentler. No doubt about it...'

Elphisia's generous treatment of her household staff wasn't new. After all, loyalty rooted in fear often crumbled in the face of greater terror.

That's why the mansion's inhabitants were often indignant at her being labeled a villainess.

However, Glen's case was different.

If things went even slightly awry or were carried out differently than intended, Elphisia would mete out harsh punishment to Glen. For instance, she once ordered torture as retribution for deliberately sparing an assassin's life.

Of course, her use of violence wasn't new either.

But things were different these days.

Not only had Elphisia's speech softened, but when she raised her hand, she often hesitated as if reconsidering, then lowered it again.

'The matter of Askalion, the former Third Prince, is another example.'

For some reason, Elphisia was turning a blind eye to Askalion's schemes. As a result, Askalion was showing remarkable growth.

He seemed to think he was outmaneuvering Elphisia, but in reality, she was simply neglecting him on a whim.

Glen guessed that the reason for Elphisia's strange behavior was likely due to the man who visited at this time every day. Sure enough, she glanced at the clock and quietly ordered Glen:

"You may go. Don't forget what I've told you."

"Yes, understood."

Efficiency had improved recently.

Thanks to Harte taking over Elphisia's attendance, Glen had gained more freedom. He now planned to wait until the sky was completely dark before moving out for his mission.

The mission to monitor Askalion, who would soon enter the capital...

---

---

Harte, visiting without fail once again today.

He could now brew tea naturally. So these days, Elphisia didn't hesitate to drink the tea he prepared.

"... You."

"Yes, Elphisia."

Another change was that Harte had started calling Elphisia by name.

Harte hadn't forgotten how Elphisia had expressed her subtle desire at the banquet, as if throwing a tantrum. Though it was difficult to immediately switch to using her name, two months had resolved the issue.

"If you were to receive a gift, what would you like?"

"Hmm... Nothing, really."

A long deliberation wasn't necessary. Harte had never experienced material desire, so this was truly a challenging question.

"Come on, there must be something?"

"No matter how much I think about it, there's nothing. Avoiding extravagance is a virtue of the temple... Of course, I don't mean to impose my beliefs on you, Elphisia."

"I know that without you saying it."

Elphisia spoke as if facing a daunting challenge, but to Harte, it was a refreshing joy. He was simply delighted that she had come to understand him so well. Compared to their first meeting, it was an encouragingly awkward change.

"Hmm."

Elphisia pretended to think before furrowing her brow as if confronted with a dilemma. Unable to read her thoughts, Harte was puzzled.

'If it's not extravagant, it should be fine, but this still seems a bit...'

Given Harte's frugal nature, he would likely prefer a gift made with effort rather than money. However, Elphisia had never in her life exerted effort for someone else's sake. This meant that while she had immersed herself in academics and management, she had never acted with the intention of bringing joy to another person.

'An embroidered handkerchief is... too easy. That can't be called effort. Decorative sword tassels are the same, everything is just too simple.'

In truth, these tasks were only easy by Elphisia's standards; from another's perspective, they would be considered works of art. Aware of this, Elphisia nonetheless began searching for something that required genuine effort.

"... Harte."

"Yes, Elphisia."

"Do you have a favorite dish?"

"Hmm... Maybe beef sautée? It's sometimes served as a special meal at the temple, and I really enjoyed it."

"That's all? ... Ugh."

Elphisia asked in startled disbelief. She quickly shut her mouth, but Harte scratched the back of his head with a wry smile.

"Haha... We usually don't eat meat, you see."

"... I see."

Beef sautée was a dish that could be immediately prepared if she simply ordered the chef. Moreover, she'd heard it didn't involve particularly complex cooking techniques. Therefore, Elphisia made a bold decision.

She would prepare a special meal for him as thanks for his service over this time.

And in doing so, she would witness the radiant smile born from overwhelming gratitude.

---

---

The next morning.

Elphisia had worked through the night to complete all of her day's tasks. Today, her office would be the kitchen. In her field of vision were the chef's anxious gaze and the skeptical looks of the maids assisting with the cooking. Enduring all this unpleasantness, Elphisia drew her knife.

The next moment.

BANG!

Elphisia's kitchen knife split the cutting board precisely in half.

Then, she spoke nonchalantly...

"Chef. Call the administrator immediately."

"Y-yes...? But why suddenly summon the administrator to the kitchen...?"

"Shouldn't the merchant who supplied such a shoddy cutting board to the ducal house face ruin, if not worse?"

"Hah...!"

She had made an outrageously violent assertion. Faced with this tyrannical display, the chef finally lost his composure.

'My lady... What are you doing, practicing swordsmanship with a kitchen knife...?!'

Even at its worst, the Luminel ducal house was a family of swordsmen. The blade of the kitchen knife Elphisia wielded still emitted a chilling light.

Meanwhile, as the chef's mouth hung open, Elphisia once again carefully reconsidered her decision.

'No, no. If it's Harte, he'd be disappointed in such a harsh judgment. That's something I... don't want to see, for some reason.'

So, Elphisia rarely retracted an order once given.

"... Never mind. Forget I said anything about calling the administrator."

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

A response taut with discipline. From the chef's perspective, he couldn't help but feel immense pressure.

Most nobles considered entering the kitchen beneath them, yet here was Elphisia, of all people, using the kitchen. What's more, she had brought only a single cookbook.

The chef thought his eyes would pop out of his head when he saw her practicing swordsmanship on the cutting board. Gathering his courage, he addressed Elphisia.

"Um... My lady."

"What is it?"

"Would it be alright if I offered some assistance with your work?"

"You mean to help?"

"Ah! Yes, yes. That's right."

If the chef's assistance went beyond helping to actually cooking on her behalf, it would diminish the meaning of her effort. However, feeding Harte a dish without even knowing the basics would be pointless.

After a moment's consideration, Elphisia accepted.

"Only as an assistant. Just correct me if I go astray."

"Understood. Then, if I may be so bold, let me start by showing you how to hold a kitchen knife."

"You dare to teach knife skills to the head of a swordsmanship family?"

"..."

Afterwards.

Having realized the difference between swordsmanship and cooking, Elphisia had to squeeze her eyes shut to hold back the tears of shame welling up.

Furthermore, for the first time in over a decade, she got cuts on her fingers. Embarrassed to show this, Elphisia planned to wear gloves when meeting Harte for the time being.

She absolutely didn't want to see him pitying her.

After going through this process, the beef sautée was complete.

Elphisia elegantly cut the meat and brought it to her mouth. Her first impression of the dish she had made herself was...

'It tastes awful.'

A single thought steeped in self-loathing.

---

---

The man once known as the Third Prince - Askalion - had steadily regained his footing and finally entered the capital. Any noble with a sense for the political climate could see that this marked the opening act in the fight for the throne.

However, even with his recovered standing, the gap between a former prince and the current emperor remained vast. It was an almost insurmountable difference that Askalion couldn't possibly be unaware of.

Moreover, at this point, Court Count Arwel was his only retainer worthy of being called loyal.

Thus, people were busy speculating what Askalion was relying on to return to the capital.

Deep in the night of such a capital.

Askalion sought confirmation from the guard at the entrance to the underground passage of his mansion.

"The fellow?"

"No issues, sir."

"Good. Don't slack on the surveillance."

The rumors circulating weren't entirely baseless. Askalion did indeed have an ace up his sleeve. He descended the gloomy stairs leading to the basement and looked down at his most powerful card with noble eyes.

"How are you feeling? Vampire."

"Do you really... need to ask?"

"I hope it's as I expect."

The demon before him was a low-ranking vampire who had infiltrated as a spy. Even so, vampires as a race were high-ranking demons, making capture no easy feat. If it hadn't been for Tina, with her worst possible compatibility, they might have killed it rather than keeping it alive.

"Who would have thought? To think the Bloody Dragon's power could control a vampire like a puppet."

"Damn you..."

"That's my line."

They were certainly not on friendly terms.

Finally, Askalion began the interrogation, looking at the vampire as if regarding vermin.

"Now, where were we?"

"..."

He affected nonchalance, pretending to recall information he already knew.

After a few seconds of silence, Askalion spoke again.

"The bloodline of the Demon King is staying in the capital... was it?"