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Chapter 14
"Won't you go speak with him?"
The handmaids standing beside me grew impatient, ‌‌‌‌frustrated by my distant observation. They all seemed eager to see Barcas up close, and among them were those whose gazes betrayed something far deeper than mere admiration—a yearning that bordered on obsession.
I chose to overlook ‌‌their presumptuous feelings. I could afford such magnanimity because I knew Barcas would never spare a glance for any ‌‌other woman.
'Of course, he's never spared me an ardent look either....'
A bitter smile crossed my lips.
Barcas had been fundamentally incapable of such emotions from the start.
He had entered the Imperial Palace as a child and undergone an education that bordered on brainwashing by fanatical fundamentalist priests, molding him into an unwavering servant of the Empire. In that process, he had shed nearly all of his humanity.
When my mother learned of the brutal discipline the son of Grand Duke Sierchan endured at the priests' hands, she fought desperately to protect him. Yet the boy had already lost not ‌‌‌‌only joy and sorrow, anger and pleasure, but nearly every fundamental desire that defines human existence.
I dimmed my expression, recalling our first meeting. How terrifying that hollow-eyed child had been, his gaze as empty as a discarded insect's husk.
Barcas had resembled a doll sculpted from hardened wax. He spoke so little that utterances beyond two words in a day were extraordinarily rare. Without someone's explicit instruction, he would neither eat nor sleep. His desires had been so thoroughly suppressed for so long that even hunger and the need for rest seemed to have been stripped away.
Compared to those days, the Barcas of now appeared almost human.
'Perhaps, with time, he might improve further....'
I cast ‌‌‌‌a hopeful gaze toward my betrothed. ‌‌Though I had sworn countless times not to expect too much, my heart stirred uncontrollably each time I saw him.
That beautiful boy who had steadfastly remained at my ‌‌‌‌dear ‌‌mother's side.... How could I not yearn for the man he had become—the most perfect specimen in all of the Roem Empire?
I was aware that countless women harbored feelings for him and had ‌suffered the bitter sting of unrequited love. Yet I believed myself far more advantaged than they.
Though our marriage had been arranged to strengthen political alliances, I would soon become his wife, and ‌one day I would bear his heir.
If I persisted in pouring affection upon him through the ‌‌‌long years we would share together, surely his frozen heart would eventually thaw.
Cradling such hopes, I approached him carefully. Sensing my presence, Barcas turned his head toward me, his back having been to the light.
In that instant, my spine froze. His expression was so cold, as though he were mocking every ‌‌dream and hope I harbored.
The man who had regarded me with vacant eyes straightened his head and spoke in a flat, toneless voice.
"Is ‌there ‌‌something you require?"
I steadied my scattered composure and consciously drew a bright smile across my lips.
"I came out to see how the travel preparations were progressing."
"They are nearly complete."
He brushed his hand lightly across the horse's muscular neck and replied in an indifferent tone.
"The preparation period has grown longer than anticipated, which troubles me. With the heat intensifying, the journey will be arduous."
"It cannot be helped. The schedule was disrupted because Gareth insisted on joining us."
I spoke carefully and observed my betrothed's reaction. Thinking of my brother's thoughtless behavior, shame burned ‌‌across my face, ‌‌and I could not lift my gaze.
Gareth ‌had not merely forced his way into the journey—he had conducted himself as though he intended to transport ‌‌‌the entire Crown Prince's Palace. He had stubbornly insisted on bringing dozens of attendants, jesters to entertain him during idle moments, a personal chef, and even a tailor.
I found myself newly amazed at Barcas's patience in accepting all of ‌‌my brother's whims and ‌‌complaints without raising his voice once.
My expression grew apologetic.
"I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you."
"Your Highness need not apologize. This was something that would have ‌‌had to ‌‌‌be done ‌‌‌eventually regardless."
He handed the reins to the stable master and added matter-of-factly.
"Compared to what I had prepared myself for, he is conducting himself quite reasonably. For a brother parting with a beloved sister, this degree of ‌‌petulance ‌‌‌‌is manageable."
My expression darkened. His words had stirred the anxiety I had been deliberately avoiding.
Looking up at ‌‌the brilliantly gleaming fortress, I clutched my skirts tightly. The thought of leaving my brother alone in this Imperial Palace, filled with painful memories, ‌felt as though my heart were being torn asunder.
Moreover, there dwelt within these walls a wicked demon who coveted Gareth's position. Could my hot-tempered brother, standing alone, truly withstand that cunning woman?
"If it would not burden you, I wish to visit the Imperial Palace periodically even after our marriage. Would that be acceptable?"
Barcas, who had been examining ‌‌‌another horse, ‌‌‌turned his gaze toward her. Seeing the ‌‌faint furrow that creased his otherwise perfect brow, Ayla became acutely aware of how unreasonable her request ‌had been, and her cheeks flushed crimson.
As the wife of a Grand Duke, managing the vast territories of ‌‌the Eastern Region and commanding hundreds of retainers ‌was no trivial matter. Now ‌‌that they were married, she had to prioritize the affairs of Sierchan House above all else.
Yet Barcas, regarding her with eyes lost in contemplation, simply nodded as though it were of no consequence.
"If a lengthy journey ‌‌‌does not burden you, you are free to come and ‌‌‌go as you wish. After all, this marriage was not arranged to strengthen the Crown Prince's position, was it?"
Ayla's expression dimmed. For him, this was purely a political union, but for her, it was something far different. A ‌‌‌‌pang of disappointment struck her heart, yet she forced herself to appear delighted.
"Thank you for understanding."
Barcas merely nodded lightly before returning his attention to ‌‌the horse's teeth.
Ayla swallowed her sigh and placed her hand upon his forearm, compelling him to look at her.
"I know you are busy, but could you spare just a moment for me? There is something I wish to give you before we depart on our journey."
The man, ‌‌who had been regarding her with puzzlement, turned his ‌body toward her. He then instructed the stable master beside him to move all the examined horses into the Stable, and escorted ‌‌‌‌‌her ‌‌‌to a relatively secluded spot.
Thanks to the Handmaids tactfully withdrawing, Ayla was able to enjoy a private walk with him.
She kept her hand resting upon his firm ‌forearm as they walked along a well-maintained path. As they entered ‌‌‌the expansive Flower Bed, a gentle breeze caressed their ‌‌faces with delicate tenderness.
The Main Palace Garden was blooming beautifully. In the flower beds that the servants had tended with care, vibrant summer flowers were unfurling their buds, and the perfectly maintained ‌‌‌shrubs ‌‌‌were adorned with lush emerald foliage.
Ayla gazed upon it all with a melancholic expression. This landscape had always left a raw wound upon her heart. Yet as time passed, the Imperial Palace, now filled with Senebier's traces, had become merely part of her daily existence, and her mother's garden had grown ‌‌increasingly dim in her memory. That fact was what she found most unbearable.
"What is it you wish to give me?"
Ayla, drawn from her reverie, turned to face Barcas and looked up at him.
In his childhood, ‌‌he had spent considerable time in the garden that Bernadette had cultivated. Ayla knew that he had found some measure of solace for his desolate heart in that place.
Suddenly, she found herself wondering: did this man also long ‌‌for her mother's garden?
As Ayla stared up at his expressionless face, devoid of any discernible emotion, she soon released a sigh of resignation and withdrew a handkerchief from within her coat.
"I embroidered the crest of Sierchan House upon it."
His gaze descended upon the neatly folded cloth. His mouth suddenly ‌‌went dry.
Ayla began to speak in an exaggerated tone, as though trying to dispel her nervousness.
"It is tradition to gift a handkerchief ‌‌‌‌of one's own making to one's betrothed before embarking on a journey. Of course, this journey is one we shall take together, but...."
"A most precious gift."
The man cut short her rambling words and accepted the handkerchief. A faint smile played ‌‌at the corners of his austere lips.
Ayla felt her heart swell. ‌‌‌‌Though it wounded her pride somewhat to be so affected ‌by his every gesture, she was far more delighted that Barcas, so sparing with his emotions, had smiled for her.
"I shall treasure it always."
He said this as he fastened the handkerchief to the hilt of his sword. ‌‌‌She smiled shyly.
Then, from not ‌‌‌far away, ‌‌‌came the sound of hurried ‌‌‌footsteps.

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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team ‌‌‌‌and enjoy the latest releases, please ‌read directly ‌‌‌on our official site: valirscans.org
---------------