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

Chapter 29
Talia's fingers fidgeted awkwardly as she forced out words in a ragged voice.
"If you so much as break a single strand of my hair, I won't forgive you."
He offered no response, but his movements grew noticeably more careful. As ‌‌‌his hands caressed her hair with an almost reverent touch, Talia ‌‌‌‌swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat.
Through the gaping collar of his shirt, I could see the prominent curve of his neck and collarbones as elegant as a bird's wings. His forearms—supple yet powerful—flexed with each movement in vivid clarity, and I became acutely aware of his long legs, wrapped in wool trousers, positioned mere inches ‌‌from my own ‌‌‌‌thighs.
Talia lowered her head sharply to hide her flushed face.
"How... how much longer?"
Surely it shouldn't take this long to free a strand caught on a button. Or perhaps my nerves ‌‌‌were so frayed that I was stretching this moment into an eternity. Perspiration began to seep from my palms.
She rubbed her hands against the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. Then she caught sight of the flush creeping up the ‌‌inside of her ‌wrists and flinched.
Surely her entire body wasn't flushed red? How utterly pathetic she must appear! ‌‌‌‌Her voice rose with irritation.
"That's enough—just cut it!"
Barcas, who was usually so agile and swift, had been fumbling about for far too long. Now ‌‌‌‌he lowered one hand to his waist.
She stiffened as she watched him draw a dagger. He brought his arm ‌‌back around behind her. Without thinking, Talia gripped his sleeve tightly.
"D-don't cut too much, ‌‌please... my hair...."
Before her words could finish, there came a soft sound, and the faint pressure against her scalp vanished. Talia spun around urgently, terrified he might have ‌‌hacked off a chunk of her hair.
Fortunately, no severed ‌‌‌locks were visible. Instead, a ‌‌‌gleaming golden button lay scattered across the floor.
She picked it up and examined it closely. The finely crafted button bore the crest of the Roem Order engraved upon it.
She turned her head to look up at him. Barcas had already risen and was sliding his dagger back into its sheath at his waist.
"How much longer do you intend to remain seated?"
Barcas spoke in ‌‌a flat tone as he adjusted his ‌disheveled clothing.
Talia hesitated before pushing herself to her feet. For some reason, the moment felt awkward. She gave a deliberate cough and held the button out toward him.
"Here. This."
"There is no need. Dispose of it."
Barcas replied dismissively, then glanced out the window. The sky had already been painted crimson with the sunset.
He turned his gaze around the room, which had become a complete disaster, and spoke with evident fatigue.
"May I take my leave?" ‌‌
Talia nodded without ‌‌‌‌protest. He gave a slight bow and immediately departed.
Talia listened to the sound of his footsteps fading away, then quickly rushed to the bedside and retrieved her jewelry box. She placed his button in the very depths of it.
That night, sleep eluded her entirely—consumed by a peculiar exhilaration. Unidentifiable emotions made her heart ache with a sweet tenderness.
She replayed his words, his actions, the look in his eyes again and again.
Perhaps. No. That couldn't be. But perhaps.
Incoherent thoughts flooded her mind. Her head felt as though it might burst. ‌‌Yet somehow, laughter bubbled up from within her.
She spent the entire night tossing and turning, intoxicated with happiness. ‌‌
But it did not take long for adolescent fantasy to shatter into pieces. Days later, news arrived that Barcas and Ayla were betrothed.
It was ‌‌‌as ‌‌though she had awakened from a ‌‌daydream. ‌‌‌No—it was far worse. She had soared among the clouds only to plummet violently to the earth.
She immediately fled the Secondary Palace and made for the Martial Training ‌Grounds. By noon, he would come to find her to fulfill his duties as a Guard Knight, but she could not wait until ‌then.
Talia crossed half the Imperial Palace in a single breath and burst into ‌‌‌the vast Training Ground where knights were conducting their drills. She felt the ‌cautious gazes of those present, but in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.
Talia's eyes darted urgently in search of ash-blonde hair gleaming like pale moonlight. Then she realized the figures filling the training ground were merely recruit trainees, not full-fledged knights. She turned away. If he was not at the Training Ground, he was likely attending ‌‌‌to duties in his office.
She made her ‌‌way toward the Military Affairs Office ‌‌‌adjacent to the Martial Training Grounds. As expected, Barcas was in his office. But it did not appear he was attending to any paperwork.
As Talia grasped the door handle, she heard ‌‌‌a faint sound of weeping. Through the crack in the open door, she saw Barcas standing with his back to the window, and a woman with her face buried against his chest, tears streaming ‌‌‌down her face.
Frozen in place ‌‌by a scene I had never ‌‌‌‌even imagined, the mysterious woman lifted her head and gazed up at him with desperate eyes.
"You don't love that woman, do you?" ‌‌
Her voice was so pitiful it made his stomach turn. She clung to him desperately, as though ‌‌begging for her very life.
"You're only marrying her for political reasons, aren't you? ‌‌‌Please, just ‌‌‌tell me that's true."
His throat suddenly constricted. The fact that there existed a woman who could entreat him in such a manner struck him like a blow to the head.
She examined his face with anxious anticipation. At last, his firmly pressed lips parted.
"I fail to understand what significance my answer holds for you."
His voice was so devoid of ‌‌emotion it sent shivers down her spine.
Talia found herself shrinking back involuntarily. Barcas, his face as lifeless as a wax figure, tilted his head as though ‌unable to comprehend, staring down at the woman.
"Whether for political reasons or otherwise, what difference does it make? I have pledged to take the First Princess as my wife, and I intend to ‌‌‌‌‌honor that commitment."
The woman's slender shoulders visibly ‌‌‌stiffened. She must be experiencing a pain as though her heart were being torn asunder.
But the man did not stop there. ‌‌
"I made it clear from the beginning that I have no intention of reciprocating your feelings, regardless of what you may have hoped ‌‌‌‌‌for."
The color drained from ‌‌‌the woman's neck. Apparently unmoved by her plight, he exhaled a weary sigh and continued.
"I would prefer that such ‌‌awkward encounters cease henceforth. Now that our engagement is formally established, I wish to avoid unnecessary scandal."
The woman staggered backward before collapsing to the ground like a person drained of all strength. A flicker ‌‌‌of annoyance crossed Barcas's face.
I was seized by horror at that expressionless face devoid of even a shred of ‌‌‌‌compassion. That expression, that gaze... it was all terrifyingly familiar.
Talia hastily fled the scene.
Had I been even slightly slower, it would have been I sitting there weeping, not that woman.
The mere thought ‌‌‌of such a scene made my blood run cold. If Barcas were to turn such a gaze upon me as I begged for his love, I would surely have perished on the spot. No—I would certainly have died.
Thus Talia became genuinely afraid ‌‌‌of him. Afraid of one who could drive her to death with mere words. ‌‌‌‌‌
Naturally, her demeanor toward ‌‌‌‌‌Barcas became increasingly defensive.
He was far ‌‌‌‌closer to a natural predator than the object of unrequited love. If I could not perfectly restrain these feelings, my ‌future would be consumed by unbearable suffering.

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