Since Adelina had agreed to a contractual marriage with Alexio, there was no need to fulfill marital duties.
This was the arrangement. This was what the contract guaranteed.
The stoic man who dressed entirely in black had shown no romantic interest in her whatsoever. He viewed their union as a business transaction—nothing more. So Adelina had simply... not thought about certain things.
*But...*
*It's true that a wedding night after the ceremony is something natural.*
Despite her complete lack of experience, Adelina was familiar with the theoretical aspects. Women of the royal family received thorough education in such matters, preparing them to seamlessly fulfill whatever responsibilities their future positions might require. The shock she had experienced upon first opening a book detailing physical intimacy between husband and wife remained fresh in her memory—the anatomical illustrations, the clinical descriptions, the burning heat that had flooded her cheeks as she'd slammed the volume shut.
She had been fourteen years old.
She had not opened such a book since.
The princess forced herself to relax her flushed face and nodded slightly, allowing the nail technician to take her hand and begin work. If this level of preparation was standard for ordinary brides, then perhaps the wisest course was simply to accept it.
*Act like a normal bride*, she told herself. *As much as possible.*
Once the bride's permission was granted, the assembled craftspeople began moving around her with practiced efficiency—unhurried but purposeful, like a well-rehearsed dance. They touched her shoulders, examined her posture, asked questions about her preferences and measurements. Adelina felt as though her soul might float right out of her body from the sheer overwhelm of it all.
"Now then, Your Highness." The designer stepped forward, sample book tucked under one arm. "Let's begin with the dress fitting. I didn't have sufficient time to design something entirely from scratch, so I've modified an existing gown instead. The sizing was estimated based on measurements your maid provided, so after today's fitting, I'll be able to tailor it precisely to your figure."
Before Adelina could respond, assistants had already descended upon her.
Her simple day dress was removed in an instant.
She found herself standing before the mirror in nothing but her undergarments, shivering slightly from the sudden chill of exposed skin.
"Oh, *goodness*. Wait." The designer, who had been preparing to drape the wedding gown over Adelina's shoulders, suddenly waved frantically at her assistant. "Not yet—we can't—"
The assistant, understanding immediately, hurried to fetch something from one of the many cases they'd brought.
A new set of undergarments.
"It is customary," the designer explained, her tone professional, "to wear specific undergarments beneath different styles of dress. The cut and fit of what you wear underneath affects the silhouette above."
Adelina stared at the scraps of fabric being presented to her.
"Isn't this... *children's* underwear?"
The pieces looked impossibly small. Delicate straps and minimal coverage—nothing like the practical, modest undergarments she typically wore.
Quiet laughter rippled through the room. The assembled craftswomen exchanged knowing glances, clearly charmed by the innocent bride's reaction.
"You need to wear something like this," the designer said gently, "so it doesn't interfere with the dress's lines. Would you like to try them on? We need to ensure there won't be any... surprises on the wedding day."
"I... Fine."
When Adelina hesitantly agreed, the assistants moved with swift efficiency. A folding screen appeared—wooden frame, white fabric stretched across the center—and was positioned around her to create a small changing area. The fabric was thin enough that her silhouette remained visible, but it provided at least the illusion of privacy.
Adelina had never received much attention in her life. Consequently, she had never learned to change clothes slowly and elegantly, the way noblewomen were supposed to. Instead, she stripped and redressed with the quick, awkward efficiency of someone accustomed to doing everything herself.
The moment her shadow indicated she had finished, the screen vanished as if by magic.
"It's true—your silhouette has become much more defined." The designer beamed at Adelina's reflection in the mirror. "I think we'll need to adjust the sizing on the model you were wearing before. How does the bust feel? Comfortable?"
Adelina blinked.
It *was* more comfortable. Despite covering significantly less skin, the garment provided better support than anything she'd worn before. She studied her reflection with curious surprise, marveling at how simple undergarments could so completely transform the contours of her figure.
Her waist looked narrower. Her posture seemed more elegant.
*Is this really me?*
"You seem quite taken with the view."
The voice came from directly beside her.
Male. Familiar. *Far too close.*
Adelina's entire body jerked with shock. She reflexively covered her face with both hands, heart hammering against her ribs. She was incredibly grateful that she hadn't screamed.
"Covering your face doesn't accomplish much." The speaker continued with infuriating calm, reaching out to smooth a strand of Adelina's hair that had been displaced by her startled movement. "I've already seen everything anyway."
The man standing before her was Alexio.
Of *course* it was Alexio.
He was dressed, as always, in impeccable black—dark suit perfectly tailored, dark hair swept back from his forehead, dark eyes gleaming with barely concealed amusement. He studied her like a cat contemplating a particularly interesting mouse.
"I expected to find you in a dress," he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Certainly not in your undergarments." A pause. A slight smile. "Though I must say, this is even better."
Heat flooded Adelina's cheeks.
The contrast was mortifying. *She* stood there in scraps of silk and lace, practically naked, while *he* was fully clothed in a suit that probably cost more than most people earned in a year. The power imbalance was written in every line of their respective positions.
"*How*—" She tried to gather her scattered wits. "No, *why* are you here?"
"To ensure the people I've hired are performing adequately." Alexio's tone suggested this was the most obvious thing in the world. "If one fails to oversee the process, one cannot guarantee the quality of the result."
He turned to survey the assembled craftswomen, all of whom had dropped into deep curtsies the moment they'd noticed his presence.
"I trust in your professionalism, of course." He inclined his head gracefully. "Please continue to take excellent care of my future wife."
"Yes, Your Grace!"
The response came in unison, eager and deferential.
Adelina knew, though no one had told her directly, that these women had been offered substantial fees for their services. They would have done excellent work regardless of oversight. But Alexio was not the sort of man who left anything to chance.
"Now then, Your Highness." The designer clapped her hands twice, signaling her assistants. "Since you've finished with the undergarments, shall we try the dress?"
The assistants approached from multiple angles. The wedding gown—which had seemed as light as a cloud when hanging on its stand—was lifted over Adelina's head and settled onto her shoulders.
It was *heavy*.
Far heavier than she'd imagined.
Adelina's lips parted in surprise as she felt the weight pull at her body, dragging her shoulders down. The assistants moved quickly, adjusting the temporary stitching, evening out the drape of fabric, ensuring nothing pulled or bunched incorrectly.
From somewhere to her left, Alexio chuckled.
Heat crept up Adelina's neck. She cleared her throat delicately.
"It's... really quite heavy."
The Duke's laughter deepened at her timid protest.
"I know." His voice carried warm amusement. "Even the finest material weighs considerably when there's enough of it."
"You're surprisingly knowledgeable about such things."
"That's natural." Alexio moved closer, examining the fabric with a critical eye. "This textile was produced at one of my mills. It's a new product—we'll be releasing it for general sale next season."
"*What?*" Adelina's hand flew to smooth the material covering her hip. "This was made in a *factory*?"
The fabric was exquisite. Soft as water, with an elegant drape that seemed almost liquid in its movement. She had assumed it must be handcrafted—the work of some master weaver who had devoted months to its creation.
Alexio's eyes narrowed slightly, apparently pleased by her reaction.
"It seems our workers have created something worthy of impressing even the discerning princess."
"This isn't just 'worthy.'" Adelina ran her fingers along the sleeve, marveling at the texture. "I never imagined such fine fabric could be spun by machines."
She understood, suddenly, why skilled artisans were disappearing one after another. Why traditional craftspeople complained of lost livelihoods. Why the world was changing so rapidly that even the nobility couldn't keep pace.
*Perhaps*, she thought, *the lace that has been my source of income will one day be produced in factories too.*
The thought brought an unexpected pang of sadness.
Making fine lace was one of the few activities where Adelina had found genuine purpose. A skill that was *hers*—earned through practice, not inherited through blood. If machines could replicate such work, what value would she have left?
"You needn't worry so much about the ceremony," she heard herself say, emerging from her reverie. "After all, it's essentially just... formality."
"You think so?"
The question was brief, but it carried unmistakable disagreement.
"Does the Duke of Pembroke think otherwise?"
"I have a completely different perspective."
Alexio smiled—that sharp, knowing smile that always made her feel as though he could see directly through her—and reached into his coat pocket.
What emerged made Adelina's breath catch.
A necklace.
No—not merely *a* necklace. A cascade of diamonds and platinum, centered by a blue gemstone so large and so brilliant that it seemed to contain an entire ocean within its depths. The stone was exactly the color of Adelina's eyes.
"*Oh!*"
"*Good heavens!*"
The craftswomen gasped in unison. These were women who worked with the kingdom's wealthiest brides year after year, who had seen jewels that would beggar most noble houses. And yet even they could not contain their astonishment.
Alexio approached without hesitation.
He moved behind Adelina—close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that his breath ghosted across the bare skin of her neck as he lifted the necklace into position.
She shivered.
His presence at her back was overwhelming. *Suffocating*. Not in an unpleasant way, but in a way that made her stomach flutter strangely, made her pulse quicken, made her suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of exposed skin.
Adelina clasped her hands together, fingers interlacing, squeezing tightly.
*What is this feeling?*
It was foreign. Unfamiliar. *Alarming* in its intensity.
She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sensation any longer—
And just like that, his warmth vanished.
When she opened her eyes again, Alexio had retreated several feet. He stood at a safe distance, studying her reflection in the mirror with an expression she couldn't quite read.
Or rather—studying the necklace where it lay against her collarbone.
"*My God...*"
The whispered exclamations came from all around her.
Adelina looked at herself in the mirror and understood why.
The blue gemstone blazed against her pale skin like a captured star. It caught the light and scattered it in a thousand directions, illuminating her face, her throat, her bare shoulders. The stone seemed to make her eyes even bluer, her complexion even more luminous, her entire being somehow *more* than it had been a moment before.
"The necklace suits the dress well." Alexio's voice was casual—*too* casual, as though he were commenting on the weather rather than presenting a gift worth more than most estates. "Wear it to our ceremony. Consider it a wedding present."
Adelina's hand rose involuntarily to touch the cool weight of diamonds against her throat.
*A wedding present.*
The words echoed strangely in her mind.
She had entered this arrangement expecting nothing but a contract. A transaction. A temporary escape from one cage into what she hoped would be a more comfortable prison.
She had not expected gifts.
She had not expected... *this*.
Whatever *this* was.
Her reflection stared back at her—a woman in a half-finished wedding gown, wearing diamonds that cost more than her father's debts, touched by sensations she had no name for.
*Four days*, she thought.
In four days, she would be married.
And she still didn't understand why her heart was beating so fast.
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