Contract Marriage Rewritten
Chapter 10
“……?”
“……?”
Laniakea and Hyperion stared blankly at each other.
Both wore expressions of utter disbelief, as if doubting their own ears.
Tilting their heads as though struggling to process what had just been said, they blurted out the single most bewildering word from each other’s statement.
“A child?”
“Divorce?”
The moment Laniakea murmured, Hyperion muttered in disbelief at the exact same time.
Then, they spoke simultaneously once more.
“A child with me?”
“Divorcing me?”
Belatedly startled, the two looked at each other. An awkward, flustered silence descended upon the room once again.
Laniakea raised a hand and tapped her ear. Everything was definitely coming through clearly.
The chirping of birds outside the window, the faint rustle of presence in the hallway, and even the intermittent creaking characteristic of an aged, historic building.
Seeing that she could hear everything so clearly, it didn’t seem as though she had hallucinated.
Yet Laniakea could hardly bring herself to accept the meaning of his words.
A child? A child between herself and the 1st Prince?
Belatedly grasping what he truly wanted, Laniakea’s eyes trembled wildly.
Noticing her agitation, Hyperion dragged a hand down his face and spoke.
“For now… it seems we need to talk.”
* * *
A pleasant fragrance wafted from the teacups the attendant had set down.
Yet Laniakea could not bring herself to drink. The silence in the room felt as if it would stretch on forever.
As Laniakea fiddled aimlessly with her teacup, Hyperion spoke.
“Why do you wish to divorce?”
“What do you mean why? Naturally… now that you are to become Emperor….”
Laniakea was well aware of her standing. A woman of decent appearance whose status was merely that of a princess from another kingdom. And she knew all too well that such qualities held little value here in the Imperial Palace.
A princess? Were the Empire searching for its Empress, every kingdom across the continent would offer up their princesses.
Appearance? Even in Laniakea’s own estimation, her face wasn’t bad.
Yet Empress was not a position where mere looks mattered. It was a role requiring the capability to keep the colossal gears of the Empire turning smoothly alongside the Emperor.
Her, in such an immense position? Preposterous. Moreover, hadn’t she been personally chosen by Hyperion’s political rival, the Empress?
“Wouldn’t it be better… for someone who can be a far greater asset to the Empire’s future to become Empress, rather than me?”
At that, Hyperion let out a short sigh and said:
“You say the exact same thing as the ministers.”
Just as she thought.
It seemed the ministers who had looked at her so coldly moments ago had been presenting their counsel regarding the seat of Empress.
Hyperion looked straight at Laniakea and continued.
“The ministers are not wrong.”
Hearing his reply, Laniakea inadvertently dropped her head low.
Though she already knew she offered him no help whatsoever, hearing it directly from his own lips weighed heavily on her heart all the same.
“Then why with me….”
Unable to bring herself to utter the word ‘child’ again, Laniakea let her voice trail off.
Fortunately, Hyperion seemed to understand what she meant, nodding as he replied.
“Following the ministers’ advice would certainly stabilize everything more quickly in the early days of my ascension. However, I cannot repeat the mistakes of the previous generation.”
Laniakea nodded at Hyperion’s answer, having realized what mistake of the previous generation he referred to.
‘He’s guarding against another faction growing in power.’
Laniakea knew very well how the current Empress had swayed and manipulated the imperial family to her whim. Hadn’t she herself been a Crown Princess handpicked by the Empress?
Even when the Emperor was hale and healthy, the Empress had actively interfered in state affairs; after the Emperor collapsed, she seized control of everything, manipulating it all within her grasp.
In the process, it was only natural that the Empress’s family and relatives reaped immense benefits.
It reached the point where pointed jokes circulated that more carriages arrived at the Empress’s ducal house than came and went through the Imperial Palace.
Naturally, this was terrible for the imperial family. Things that ought to be concentrated solely on the imperial house were leaking away elsewhere.
The more that happened, the more imperial authority plummeted while noble families flourished. Hyperion had no desire to watch such a spectacle unfold any longer.
“And besides.”
Continuing, his voice took on greater firmness.
“Are you not my wife?”
There was a faint trace of resentment woven into Hyperion’s voice as he spoke—enough to feel like a reprimand, questioning why she had forgotten such an obvious fact.
“Still….”
Feeling somewhat scolded, Laniakea felt a twinge of unfairness.
It was true they were married. But over the past three years, how many times had they actually seen each other face-to-face?
‘About ten times?’
He returned to the Imperial Palace about once every four months. And after having a single meal with Laniakea, he would leave immediately without even staying a night at the Detached Palace.
Naturally, barely any conversation passed between them during meals.
Even when Laniakea asked about life at the Border, he would reply with brief yeses, noes, or ask for her understanding that it wasn’t pleasant conversation to share.
At first, Laniakea had tried several times to carry the conversation, but when met with only those kinds of answers, she couldn’t ask anything more.
And so their meals were painfully quiet. From the very start, it was agonizing, but most of all, having tea together at the end was the hardest. Sitting in silence with no conversation was overwhelmingly uncomfortable.
In the end, Laniakea could only make idle chatter about the new tea leaves they had acquired. Naturally, Hyperion offered nothing beyond, “Yes, I see.”
So when she learned Hyperion was to become Emperor, she took it for granted that he would divorce her and send her away. Why, then, was he looking at her with such resentment?
Just then, Hyperion asked her another question.
“If we divorce, do you intend to return to Priatra? Is there someone waiting for you there…?”
“No!”
The moment Priatra was mentioned, Laniakea shook her head vehemently.
“I have no desire to ever return there. There is no one waiting for me either.”
She remembered her family, who had always been cold to her. If she returned to Priatra, their gazes would only turn even frostier.
“I see. Very well. Then would you give me your hand?”
Hyperion, his expression strangely shifting into one of relief, took a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Laniakea.
Only then did Laniakea realize the tea had overflowed from her cup and soaked her hands.
Fortunately, the tea had cooled somewhat, but feeling the belated heat, Laniakea flushed and reached out to take the handkerchief he offered.
Yet as Laniakea leaned closer, Hyperion took hold of her hand with utter naturalness and gently wiped it himself with the handkerchief.
The motion was so seamless that Laniakea didn’t even think to pull her hand away, blankly entrusting her hand to his.
Hyperion wiped Laniakea’s hand meticulously. Watching the white handkerchief quickly stain with tea, she realized it looked familiar.
“This is….”
“Yes, it is the one you sent.”
Hyperion’s voice grew slightly louder, as if pleased that Laniakea remembered.
“I have treasured it ever since I received it.”
Hyperion’s words made Laniakea’s face burn red. Not out of joy, but out of mortification.
Once a year at the Imperial Palace, there was an event to send care packages to knights dispatched to distant regions.
Held at year’s end and hosted by the Empress, long tables were arranged across the banquet hall.
Attendees placed their care packages on the tables bearing the names of their chosen regions.
Since the banquet was hosted by the Empress and all the guests were high-ranking nobles, the care packages they donated were lavish without exception.
Rings, bracelets, and brooches they wore, of course, and even bank checks written right on the spot.
The table piled highest with packages was the one bearing the name of the Border region where the Empress’s younger brother was stationed.
Though referred to as the Border, it bordered an allied nation along one of the largest trade routes, making it completely safe.
Yet all the nobles placed their care packages there. It was obvious they were currying favor with the Empress. In contrast, in front of the nameplate for the region where Hyperion was stationed, the table was so bare it was embarrassing.
Normally, Laniakea would have hastily placed whatever jewelry she was wearing, but this time that was impossible—the jewelry she wore did not belong to her.
‘No wonder she offered to lend me jewelry for the banquet….’
Strangely, a few days prior, the Empress had even sent an affectionate letter offering to lend her jewelry.
At the time, having no reason to refuse, Laniakea had accepted with gratitude for her grace, but it had all been an intentional ploy to prevent her from placing anything down as a care package.
A prince neglected even by his own wife.
The Empress had likely wanted to parade that sight before the nobles.
The Empress and her entourage had approached with smiles as they watched the flustered Laniakea. Asking if she hadn’t known about donating care packages, they spoke consolingly, telling her not to worry too much as there would be another chance next year.
“The 1st Prince would be delighted by whatever the Crown Princess sends. When it comes to gifts, is it not the thought that counts rather than the monetary value?”
Spouting pleasant words, the Empress wore a smile more benevolent than ever.
In the end, Laniakea had no choice but to place down the handkerchief she held—the only thing that was truly hers. Snickers naturally rose from behind her.
