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Chapter 16
She fixed Senebier ‌‌‌‌with a gaze laden with suspicion.
What scheme lay behind her insistence on bringing Talia along? The girl's only talent seemed to be pestering her with tiresome pranks.
Yet Senebier was ‌‌not the sort to mobilize The Emperor himself for such trivial matters. There had to be some darker purpose at work.
Ayla stepped ‌‍forward with a rather stiff tone of objection. ‌‌‌‌
"Is it not customary for the women of the Imperial Family to undertake a pilgrimage only when marriage approaches? Why would you insist on sending that child at this particular moment?"
"Talia may soon be entering into marriage herself."
Senebier spoke with cheerful brightness.
Ayla's brow furrowed. She had never heard even a whisper of marriage proposals for Talia until now.
Regardless of her illegitimate birth, Talia held her name in the Imperial genealogy as a princess. ‌She was not ‌‌‌in a position to conduct marriage negotiations in silence. The Empress must have fabricated this story simply to justify bringing ‌‌‌her along on this journey.
As she fixed The Empress with a look of suspicion, Barcas's frigid voice cut through the air.
"How remarkably fortuitous that the marriage has been ‌‌‌arranged at such ‌‌‌a timely moment."
Despite his obvious sarcasm, Senebier did not lose ‌‌‌her composure.
"It is indeed a blessing that the Imperial Family experiences successive occasions for celebration. ‌‌The proposal arrived not long ago, and we have not yet formalized the betrothal, but His Majesty and I are viewing it favorably."
A smirk played at the corners of Barcas's mouth.
"Might I inquire ‌‌as to the identity of this fortunate suitor?"
"You've likely heard the name before—Verdain Serian, head of House of Serian. A formal proposal arrived just days ago."
Senebier spoke with a tender smile gracing her lips.
"The child has been of age for ‌‌‌some time ‌‌‌now, so it seems fitting that she should marry soon. I deemed him an acceptable match."
Ayla swallowed back a laugh that threatened to burst forth. Verdain Serian was among The Empress's most ardent admirers.
According to rumor, he had once set ‌‌a record for the longest affair with Princess Taren. To marry ‌‌‌her own daughter to such a man—was The Empress in her right mind?
The image of Talia appearing in the Banquet Hall alongside Count Serian surfaced in her memory, and bile rose in her ‌‌throat. Whether it was the ‌‌mother who would ‌‌marry her daughter to her own former lover, or the daughter who would comply with such a mother's wishes, both must surely be mad.
"Since ‌‌matters have progressed ‌‌thus, see that the child's travel preparations are hastened."
The ‌‌Emperor issued the command in a tone that made clear he wished to end this conversation, gesturing for them to withdraw.
Barcas, his expression utterly inscrutable, gazed up at his sovereign for a moment before bowing his head in silence. He then rose slowly from his seat, turned, and departed the Audience Chamber.
Ayla, who had been watching Senebier with wary eyes, turned to look at him in bewilderment. She had not ‌‌‌‌‌‌‌expected Barcas to ‌‌acquiesce so readily.
She paid her respects to The Emperor, then hurried after him. ‌‌‌‌
"Do you truly intend to take Talia with you as things stand? Her marriage is merely a convenient pretext. Senebier is surely plotting something dreadful."
"Likely so."
He replied with indifference and descended the stairs with heavy steps.
Ayla, her face blank, gathered her skirts and quickly caught up with him. She then seized his arm and cried out in a somewhat agitated tone.
"Is that all? We don't know what The Empress might do using Talia, yet you would simply...!"
"What would you have me do?"
The man stopped in his tracks and turned a desolate gaze upon her. Ayla flinched. Only then did she recognize that his mood had plummeted.
Merely an hour ago, he had smiled at me. But now he had become a stranger again, regarding her with cold eyes ‌‌from above. He spoke with a bitter edge. ‌‌‌
"Do you wish me ‌‌to ‌‌defy His Majesty's command?"
"I merely...."
"He is the sovereign of this Empire, and I am sworn in loyalty to the Imperial Family. From ‌‌the beginning, ‌‌there has been no path other than obedience. Is that not what you nobility have consistently demanded of men like me?"
Struck by words she had not anticipated, ‌‌Ayla's body went rigid. The man, regarding her with expressionless eyes, turned and began walking once ‌‌more.
Watching his retreating form disappear without a ‌‌moment's hesitation, fear suddenly flooded through her. Like the young girl she had ‌‌once been, Ayla ran after him and threw her arms around his solid waist.
"I'm sorry! I was anxious and took it out on you. Please don't turn away from me so ‌coldly."
The man who had stood motionless gradually relaxed, releasing a shallow sigh before turning to embrace ‌‌‌‌her. He stroked her hair gently, as he had done in childhood, and spoke.
"There ‌‌‌is nothing ‌‌to fear. No matter what schemes The ‌‌‌‌Empress devises, Your Highness will come to no harm."
She lifted her head to gaze up at his face. The man who had turned away wearing the expression of a stranger had transformed once more into a loyal knight. Ayla felt her scattered ‌‌‌emotions settle ‌‌‌back into place in an instant.
A man who could shake her so ‌‌easily, yet calm her with a few careless words—before him, her pride as a princess, her dignity, her very authority meant nothing.
Clinging to his cool embrace that had never grown warm despite the countless years they had spent together, Ayla gazed desperately into his pale blue eyes.
What was he looking at? Those hollow, fathomless eyes seemed always to wander toward some distant place.
"I swore to the late Empress that I would ‌‌protect you both to the extent of my power."
He brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek, tucking them behind her ear as he spoke.
"I intend to keep that promise, no matter ‌‌what comes. So Your Highness need not worry about ‌‌anything."
After studying ‌‌‌‌his face for a long moment, Ayla ‌‌‌‌‌nodded slowly.
Yes, as long ‌‌as ‌‌‌this man stands with us, ‌‌‌there is nothing to fear. Nothing at all.
* * *
With the broken nail trimmed away, everything felt incomplete.
How many more weeks would she need to wait for it to grow long enough to drive deep into flesh? Talia gazed down at the pale pink nail beginning to emerge at her fingertip with restless eyes.
The satisfaction of wounding the Crown Prince's body had not lasted long. Her noble ‌‌‌brother would ‌‌‌have sought out a priest immediately to have his hand healed cleanly. Meanwhile, she had lost the secret weapon she had spent weeks carefully ‌‌‌‌‌‌cultivating so uselessly.
'I had wanted to use it on Ayla instead....'
How many times ‌had she imagined driving her nails into those verdant eyes whenever that woman looked at Barcas.
Talia scraped at the wound left by the broken nail.
The fresh scab tore away, and droplets of blood began to seep out. Her nerves grew increasingly sharp. She stared at her reddening nail, then brought her index finger to her lips and sucked away ‌‌the blood lightly before rising from the window.
Today it was difficult to find any sign of Barcas. There was no longer any reason to remain pressed against the glass, enduring the harsh sunlight.
She trudged across the room, poured cold water into the basin on the shelf, and lightly washed her sweat-dampened face. Then came a knock at the door. It seemed the Nursemaid had brought snacks again.
Talia dried her face with clean linen and called out indifferently.
"Come in."
But the figure that appeared through the opened door was not a quarter-dwarf with a short stature and plump ‌‌limbs, but rather a small boy with deep reddish-brown hair tied back and bright emerald eyes that gleamed with vitality.

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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
---------------