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Chapter 21
He alternated his gaze between his superior's cold ‌‌‌silhouette and the reproachful eyes of ‌‌‌the citizens before exhaling heavily and spurring his horse forward.
The Second Imperial Princess, ‌‌‌‌who had been sealed away in her carriage as though staging a silent protest, finally revealed herself once the entourage had escaped the Capital City and reached the ‌‌Riverbank for rest.
The servants, ‌‌who had been in the midst of dismantling tents and preparing for camp, regarded Talia with tense, wary eyes.
Her claim of changing clothes multiple times throughout the day proved no exaggeration—she ‌‌‌now wore a silk dress embroidered ‌‌‌with golden thread, far different from the gown she had worn upon departing the Imperial Palace.
Moreover, around her slender, ‌luminous neck hung a necklace so exquisitely expensive it could purchase an entire castle, while her wrists, delicate ‌‌‌as birch branches, were adorned with elaborate jewelry studded with diamonds.
Observing her from a distance, Edrick's expression turned incredulous. They were about to dine and settle into camp for the evening. What possible reason could she have for such elaborate adornment? He found her behavior ‌utterly incomprehensible and felt his energy already draining away.
He swallowed his sigh, handed the reins to a mounted attendant, and approached the Imperial Princess. The woman, who had been surveying her surroundings, cast ‌‌‌‌a fierce glare in his direction.
In that ‌‌‌instant, Edrick felt his throat constrict. Surrounded by the fading light of the setting sun, Talia ‌‌‌‌appeared as though crafted from mingled fire and gold.
Her honey-colored hair, swept by the fierce river wind, created luxuriant waves of gold around her face, while her flawless, alabaster skin radiated a pale luminescence even within the infernal glow of the sunset.
He ‌‌unconsciously stepped backward. Everything comprising this woman seemed excessively delicate, as though she might shatter into countless pieces at any moment, scattering sharp fragments in all directions.
He swallowed dryly, gripped by an ‌inexplicable sense of foreboding he could not articulate, when a shrill voice emerged from between her crimson lips.
"I despise this ‌‌‌‌place. Move the camp elsewhere."
Her utterly absurd command finally brought him back to his senses.
His spine stiffened ‌‌‌rigidly. This woman was nothing but a beautiful toadstool—poisonous ‌‌‌and deceptive. One moment of carelessness, dazzled by her lovely appearance, ‌‌‌and he would suffer grievously.
He adopted a businesslike demeanor and responded flatly.
"This campsite ‌was selected by the Royal Guard for safety. We cannot search for another ‌‌‌location at this late hour."
"Did I ask for your opinion?"
The woman's gaze turned ‌‌as sharp as frost.
"I am ordering you to move the camp. You need only obey my command!"
He had to pause and gather his breath to ‌‌‌summon what patience remained.
"All ‌‌decisions regarding this expedition ‌rest with Lord Barcas. I must reiterate—you cannot abandon the procession on a whim."
"Then all I need is Barcas's permission?"
The woman, interrupting him hastily, immediately turned away. It seemed she had been searching for a pretext to quarrel with Lord Barcas from the very beginning.
Edrick hurried after the Imperial Princess. He could not fathom why she was so desperate to incite conflict on the first day of travel.
With long strides, he quickly overtook her.
"What precisely about this location displeases you so greatly?"
"I simply despise everything about it."
The woman strode forward briskly, her voice sharp.
"I hate being near the water, I hate being near the forest. Insects will be swarming everywhere."
"How do you expect us to camp without water? Moreover, griffins and harpies have ‌been known to ‌‌appear in this region. ‌The forest serves as a natural defensive barrier against large monsters...."
"Safety means nothing! I've already been bitten by flying insects twice! If I spend the night in ‌‌‌such a place, lice will devour my entire skin. And what of those sounds from the forest? I cannot bear the rustling of leaves, and if birds continue their incessant cries, how am I supposed ‌‌to sleep?"
Edrick stared down at the Imperial Princess, his face drained of color. Even a spoiled five-year-old would not throw such a tantrum. He desperately suppressed the irritation rising within him.
"We must camp for several more days. If you do not ‌‌begin adapting now...."
"Simply move the camp and be done with it! Why must I endure what I despise?"
The woman shrieked in a piercing voice and charged across the camp like a thoroughbred racing horse, unobstructed. He ‌‌had to clench his fists tightly to prevent himself from forcibly restraining her.
"Everyone is exhausted from the day's continuous march. We cannot dismantle the ‌‌‌‌tents and search for a new campsite for such an absurd reason. Stop this childish nonsense at once and return to your carriage ‌‌‌for rest."
As he blocked her path and spoke with deliberate severity, her hauntingly beautiful face contorted subtly. Immediately after, accompanied by a sound like the crack of a ‌whip, a sharp pain flared across his right cheek.
He glared at the woman with menacing eyes. From the moment he had been assigned as her Guard Knight, he had braced himself for minor physical violence. Yet the reality felt far more offensive ‌‌than he had imagined.
"How dare you give ‌‌‌‌me orders."
I barely swallowed the ‌‌insult when the woman seized me by the collar and hissed directly into my face.
"I am the ‌‌Emperor's daughter, and you all exist for my convenience. If I command you to walk through ‌‌‌‌the night, then you must walk until ‌‌dawn breaks—that is your fate. So stop spouting such presumptuous nonsense and get out of my sight."
The woman shoved me away and resumed her walk along the Riverbank.
Edrick stared coldly at the back of that small head. He wanted nothing more than to do what his superior had done—hoist that unruly woman onto his shoulder and throw her back into the carriage.
But he lacked the connections necessary to lay hands on imperial blood ‌‌‌without ‌‌‌facing consequences.
As her retreating figure grew distant, Edrick exhaled a bitter sigh.
Would he ‌‌be able to endure this wicked woman's tyranny until the end of this ‌‌journey? ‌‌‌His head was ‌‌already throbbing.
As I walked along the river, I felt a sharp gaze boring into my back.
Talia shot a piercing glance over her shoulder, and those who had been stealing glances at me quickly turned away, feigning innocence.
It was no different from usual. People had always treated me like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment. Yet today, the lingering gazes—cautious yet persistent—seemed strangely suspicious.
'Surely, Senebier has planted spies among them.'
I scrutinized each member of my entourage. Perhaps they were all spies. Mother was certainly capable of such a thing.
My thoughts spiraled in increasingly wild directions.
Senebier had spent years dismantling Gareth's support base. This opportunity might be her chance to eliminate every obstacle standing in ‌‌‌‌her son's path.
My heart raced with unease.
If Mother's target was Gareth or Ayla, it mattered little to me. I would even consider joining her scheme if necessary. ‌‌‌But if, by some chance, Senebier's true target was Barcas....
At that thought, ‌‌I surveyed the densely arranged military barracks with anxious eyes.
I had to separate the camps. If I put physical distance between us, Senebier's spies would find it harder to scheme through the night.
I quickened my pace. Soon enough, I spotted Torque, the prized military horse that ‌‌‌‌Barcas doted on, tethered before a large tent. I passed ‌‌‌the gray stallion, who recognized me and snorted loudly, and stepped into the dimly lit tent.
The interior was organized with monastic precision. As I surveyed the candlestands casting faint ‌‌‌light, the luxurious storage chests, and the stands displaying armor, I noticed a deep shadow cast behind a partition and moved toward it without hesitation.
"I wish to relocate my camp to another location. However, it seems your esteemed knight believes my retinue cannot go anywhere without the permission of ‌‌‌the Count of Sierchan. Apparently, your subordinates think the commander of the Roem Order outranks the ‌‌‌imperial family. How did ‌the Royal Guard Corps ‌‌‌become such a pathetic organization lacking proper hierarchy...."
As I pulled ‌‌back the partition and continued my tirade, I froze mid-sentence. Barcas stood there shirtless, wiping water from his face ‌‌with a towel.

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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
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