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Chapter 2
“I am Marchioness Olga Ryabova, and I have been appointed to attend to Your Ladyship from now on. I previously served as the chief lady-in-waiting to the late Queen Anna.”
Nadia had been brought to the queen’s palace almost without warning. Standing before her was a middle-aged woman whose soft, wheat-colored hair was neatly swept up into an elegant bun.
Nadia raised her head and looked at the noblewoman’s dark brown eyes. Her features were remarkably gentle, yet there was a steely strength in her gaze that made the expression soft on the outside, strong on the inside seem particularly fitting.
Knowing that Olga had once served as Queen Anna’s chief lady-in-waiting, Nadia sensed an icy, needle-sharp coldness hidden beneath her seemingly calm gaze.
“I shall serve Your Majesty with all my heart.”
Olga Ryabova bowed her head to the daughter of the woman who had brought her former mistress to her death.
Nadia instinctively bowed her head in return. Somehow, it felt like the only appropriate thing to do.
Queen Anna had passed away not long ago. Nadia had heard that, disgracefully, the queen had been found hanged.
She knew the reason behind her death. King Ivan had declared that he would make the son of his mistress his heir, disregarding the queen’s only legitimate son.
The queen’s opposition had meant nothing. Ten years earlier, she had been forced to send her beloved son away to the northern regions. After enduring depression ever since, she had finally brought her miserable life to an end.
“…I’m sorry.”
Nadia wanted to apologize on behalf of her deceased mother for the sins she had committed.
When she raised her head, Olga’s expression was somewhat peculiar. Her eyes betrayed surprise, but her brows remained furrowed.
Rather than uttering the customary words—You shouldn’t say that—Olga seemed to swallow her true feelings. Those feelings probably amounted to something along the lines of, So the girl actually has a conscience, despite who she is.
“His Majesty the King has ordered that you become his queen. Therefore, I will not harm Your Majesty.”
It was, in truth, a rather rude thing to say. But Nadia preferred this kind of bluntness and was even grateful for it.
Someone who spoke so openly probably wouldn’t stab her in the back.
Nadia quietly opened her mouth.
“I don’t know what His Majesty intends, but I will remain obedient and live as though I were dead.”
Olga continued to regard her with an inscrutable gaze. Nadia added in a whisper,
“I won’t cause you any trouble, my lady.”
Unless she was a fool, Nadia couldn’t possibly believe that the king had any good intentions in taking the daughter of his enemy as his wife.
Perhaps that was why, surprisingly, no one had opposed this absurd marriage.
Or perhaps…
‘Perhaps it’s because there’s already someone by His Majesty’s side.’
Nadia searched her memories for a moment, recalling the woman who had sat to the king’s left at the execution grounds that day.
“I shall take Nadia Turrick, daughter of Agnetha Turrick, as my queen.”
After that shocking proclamation, everyone had worn expressions of utter disbelief. Yet there had been only one person who accepted the king’s decision with a composed face.
The new king had risen from his seat immediately after uttering those words, and the woman to his left had stood up to follow him. There was no way Nadia could have failed to notice her.
Her first impression had been that it was as though the moon had risen in broad daylight.
The woman had long, brilliant silver hair braided into two thick plaits that fell over her shoulders. Her haughty features and exceptionally pale skin seemed to complement the king’s cold demeanor perfectly.
She was fairly tall, reaching approximately the king’s shoulders when standing beside him.
Her body had almost no excess fat, but neither was it soft and flabby, devoid of muscle like the bodies of most noble ladies. Her figure was firm and well-proportioned, with a voluptuous fullness to her ample breasts and hips.
As she left her seat with an expressionless face, her eyes naturally met Nadia’s.
What lingered in those deep violet eyes was unmistakably…
‘Hatred and contempt.’
The woman promptly linked her arm through the king’s, and he accepted the gesture as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t difficult to guess the nature of their relationship.
‘What I don’t understand, though, is why he would make me his queen when he already has her…’
If his intention was to humiliate Nadia, there were other options besides granting her the exalted position of queen. He could have made her his mistress, or even reduced her to the status of a maid—or, for that matter, a slave.
Given the circumstances, it would hardly have been surprising if he had ordered her execution alongside the others. She couldn’t understand why he had instead bestowed such a noble position upon her.
And yet, he seemed intent on keeping the woman who looked like his lover as his mistress.
It was an unexpected course of action for a man who, given his father’s history, should have despised mistresses.
‘In any case, he won’t have any reason to keep me close.’
There was no reason for him to desire the daughter of his enemy. Nadia was likely to spend her life as a queen in name only.
If this was his way of forcing her to endure humiliation, it would hardly be a difficult hardship for her to bear.
She had been brought here before she could be married off abroad at her mother’s command. Whether she lived there or here, loneliness was probably her destiny.
Therefore, Nadia thought she ought to be grateful to Lev Arbat for sparing her life and granting her the position of queen, rather than hating him.
It was a rather naive thought.
As soon as the execution ended, Lev returned directly to his own palace.
Albina had kept her arm linked through his the entire time. It was only after they entered his chambers that she finally let go.
She awkwardly fidgeted with her hands, as though she still hadn’t grown accustomed to the arrangement. Lev, on the other hand, wore an unconcerned expression as his attendants helped him change his clothes.
“Is there anything else you wish to say to me?”
The attendants had finally begun unbuttoning his shirt when Lev asked the question.
Albina looked at her master with a worried expression that was almost solemn before asking,
“Are you certain you won’t regret this?”
“No.”
Lev’s answer was so indifferent that it bordered on dismissive. Albina knew he meant it, but she still wasn’t comfortable with the situation.
The attendants continued unbuttoning his shirt, moving farther down. When his chest began to show, Albina turned away and sighed.
“I understand Your Majesty’s intentions, but the position of queen is an extremely important one.”
“If you’re so reluctant, you can become the queen yourself, Sir Albina.”
At his suggestion, Albina waved her hands in a vehement refusal, as though the very thought made her shudder.
“Oh, absolutely not! Playing the role of Your Majesty’s mistress is already more than enough for me.”
“I don’t think you’ve done much at all.”
Albina let out an incredulous gasp at his dismissal of her efforts.
“I stood up immediately after you did at the execution grounds! And I even linked my arm through yours!”
Lev had been smirking at her indignant protest, but his expression turned blank at her next words.
“More importantly, I glared at that woman, Agnetha’s daughter, on your behalf! Isn’t that enough? How much better do you expect me to perform my duties as your mistress?”
“Now that I think about it, it was a good choice.”
Albina looked at him in confusion at the sudden remark.
“Taking a woman I hate as my wife.”
Lev clearly remembered the pitiful final state of his foolish father, a man who had grown weaker and weaker during the ten years Lev had been away.
His father had aged considerably, and the sharpness had disappeared from his eyes. After all those years spent nurturing his hatred, the old man’s ridiculous appearance was almost laughable. Lev had felt nothing but profound contempt.
He had lost his mother because of a man like that.
Because of that same man, he had been forced to spend ten years secluded in the harsh northern regions.
He would never, under any circumstances, follow in his father’s footsteps.
The deposed King Ivan had become so foolish because he had been blinded by his love for his mistress.
Love made a man foolish.
But what about Lev?
Ten years of hatred had made him strong. Now that he had completed his revenge, he needed to continue honing himself like a sharp blade. To do that, he had to keep hating.
Hatred made a man powerful.
He needed a queen he hated, not one he loved.
Nadia Turrick, the daughter of the woman he despised, was the perfect choice. It would be difficult to find another woman he could hate more than her.
“The moment you mentioned that woman, I felt disgusted. It was as though my blood had turned cold.”
“You must be the only person in the world who would choose a spouse based on such a bizarre criterion, Your Majesty.”
“Then what? Should I marry someone I love?”
Lev let out a derisive laugh.
He had absolutely no intention of letting something like love into his life.
“Unless you’re cursing me by telling me to become just like my father.”
“Even if you don’t love her, you could simply choose a suitable young lady from a respectable family…”
Oh, no.
Albina belatedly realized what she had said and hurriedly closed her mouth.
After all, Queen Anna, Lev’s own mother, had become queen in precisely that way.
Everyone knew how tragically that story had ended.
Silence settled over the room.
For a moment, both of them thought of their respective mothers, who had been sacrificed because of the deposed king’s pathetic love affair.
Then Albina broke the silence in a low voice.
“Alternatively, you could cast her aside at the right time. Make it as humiliating for her as possible.”
“How could you spend your entire, interminably long life with a woman you hate? Even if Your Majesty is determined not to let love weaken you.”
“…”
“Your Majesty has far too many years left to live for that.”
Lev gave a faint, mocking smile.
“Is that so?”
“Of course.”
No. Albina was wrong.
After all, Lev was living on borrowed time. He was a man who could die at any moment.
