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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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Chapter ‌‌‌‌5
"You seem utterly incapable of grasping that there are boundaries you must not cross."
Barcas spoke in his characteristic monotone, yet his beautiful face had been scratched raw by patience itself, twisted into a savage grimace.
Talia twisted her ‌‌arm, attempting to slip free from his grip. But the trained knight's iron hold was like shackles. Standing before the Crown Prince and Ayla ‌‌like a loyal shield, Barcas pulled Talia closer and spat his words directly into her face.
"How much further do you intend ‌‌to descend? Are you still unsatisfied even after revealing your depths?"
"I revealed my depths?"
Talia tilted her chin high and released a sharp, mocking laugh.
"Oh, how noble of you, my esteemed Crown Prince. Do ‌‌you truly ‌‌‌believe you know even the slightest thing about the depths of humanity? Stop ‌‌‌pretending to be superior."
She pressed herself against him, offering a seductive smile. Unlike the other men who grew intoxicated by merely her gaze and scent, ‌‌‌‌Barcas remained utterly unmoved. His eyes held only disgust.
Talia felt ‌‌‌‌the urge to drive her meticulously sharpened nails—which she honed each night with care—directly into those icy eyes.
"From where you stand, I must appear very low indeed. But there is still ‌a long way to fall before reaching the absolute worst."
She met his gaze directly as she spoke. Within his eyes lurked a bottomless abyss.
This man would soon push her into that darkness. Then, before I fall, I'll at least leave long, deep ‌‌‌scratches across their ‌futures. It's only fair.
Her deep blue eyes gleamed with venom, burning with malice. Danger flickered across Barcas's gaze as he ‌‌‌looked down at that wicked face. As they glared at each other as if ready to kill, an achingly pitiful voice emerged from behind him.
"Barcas."
The man who had been staring through Talia immediately turned toward his fiancée.
Ayla wore an expression so pathetic it wrung ‌the heart of anyone who beheld it. She gently tugged at Barcas's coat with her fingertips and ‌‌‌‌pleaded softly.
"I... I want to change my clothes. Will you take ‌‌me away from here?"
"...As you wish."
Barcas wrapped one arm ‌‌‌‌around Ayla's shoulders and turned away. As though Talia's existence had been ‌‌completely erased from his mind, he left the Banquet Hall with his fiancée, never once glancing back over his shoulder.
Talia felt the madness that had consumed her drain away in an instant.
Despair, anguish, and jealousy rushed in to fill the void. Yet even as her insides twisted with unbearable pain, she maintained an air of composure. ‌‌
Talia fabricated a triumphant smile as though she had won a great victory and walked toward the Terrace where wine and food were laid out. The crowd ‌‌‌parted before her like water, avoiding something distasteful.
She ‌‌‌‌paid them no mind and elegantly picked up a fresh glass. But before she could take even two ‌sips, Count Serian, who had been watching their confrontation from a distance, hurried over and snatched the glass from her hand.
"It ‌would be wise for you to leave the Banquet Hall at once."
"Why?"
She reached toward a plate of pomegranate and spoke with perfect ease.
"Did you not hear the First Princess say to enjoy the banquet freely? I have not yet enjoyed myself sufficiently."
"Your Highness's boldness is admirable, but a dangerous beast behind you is ‌‌watching as though it might pounce ‌‌‌at any moment." ‌‌‌‌
The Count gestured with his eyes toward the Crown Prince. True to his words, Gareth looked as though he might draw his sword at any second.
Thick veins bulged prominently along his sun-darkened, ‌bronze neck, and the muscles of his clenched jaw trembled faintly. It was clear he was barely restraining an explosive temperament.
Under normal circumstances, she would have further provoked her brother to drive him toward some terrible atrocity. But now she lacked the strength ‌‌‌‌to do so.
Talia abandoned her bluster and ‌placed her hand on Count Serian's arm. He swiftly ‌‌‌escorted her from the Banquet Hall at a pace that did not appear to be a flight.
A carriage was already waiting before the Garden. As the Guard Knight opened the door as if he had been expecting this, Talia stepped onto the footboard. Just as she was about to settle into the plush seat, someone shoved her body roughly.
Talia tumbled to the floor and looked up. Gareth, having pushed past her Guard Knight and thrust his head into the carriage, fixed her with a murderous glare.
"We are barely tolerating your existence."
He growled and wrapped his calloused, scarred hands around her throat. The Guard Knight could not bring himself to lay hands upon the Crown Prince and could only shout in protest.
Gareth ignored the knight's protests and strangled her harder with both hands. Talia instinctively ‌thrashed her legs and ‌‌‌drove her nails into the sinews of her brother's hands. But consumed by rage, he seemed to feel no pain.
Gareth spat his words against her ear.
"And for such a very long time, I have endured, and endured, and endured."
The ‌‌Crown Prince's vivid emerald eyes blazed like ‌‌wildfire.
"So you needn't scratch anymore, little sister. We already despise ‌‌you more than ‌‌‌enough...."
Gareth finally released his grip and rose to his feet.
Talia wrapped both hands around her throat and drew in a violent breath. Coughing erupted repeatedly, making it difficult to breathe. Her face flushed crimson as she gasped ‌‌‌‌roughly, when the Crown Prince's sinister voice pierced her eardrums.
"Remember this. Your mother's scheming, you filthy bastard parading through the Imperial Palace—all of it is only temporary."
Then, with courtesy, he closed the carriage door himself and departed.
As Talia struggled to rise, she discovered that two of her meticulously manicured nails had broken. Blood clung viscously to ‌‌the jagged edges. She caressed them with satisfaction, then murmured in a hoarse, fading voice.
"...I'll need to grow them back."
Next time, I'll sharpen them even more ‌‌keenly. Sharp enough to pierce bone.
A sound like air escaping emerged from her lips—a laugh devoid of warmth.
I ‌didn't even know why I was laughing.
The useless Guard Knight, who had frantically opened the door to check on my safety, stared down at ‌‌‌me with a bewildered expression. In his eyes, I must appear mad. Perhaps he's right. I've certainly been insane for a ‌‌‌long time now.
She lay sprawled on the dark carriage ‌‌‌‌‌floor, giggling for a long while.
* * *
The entire Imperial ‌Palace was in turmoil. In a few days, the First Princess and the Crown Prince would depart on a pilgrimage—a rite of passage that all descendants of the great Emperor Darian, who unified all nations into one, must undertake upon reaching adulthood.
Ordinarily, ‌‌‌‌‌‌‌women departed before marriage, and men after reaching twenty, but according ‌‌‌‌to the Crown Prince's assertion that two people born on the same day and hour receiving the gods' blessing on the same day was only natural, provisions were prepared for both.
And to escort these ‌‌‌two individuals, who held the second-highest rank in The Empire after the Emperor and Empress, an elite unit of the Imperial Guard Order was deployed. Naturally, the commander ‌‌‌‌overseeing this expedition was Barcas, who held the position of Royal Guard Commander. Thanks ‌‌‌‌to this, Talia could frequently observe him ‌‌‌moving busily through the Castle Courtyard from the Secondary Palace window.
Today as well, he inspected weapons ‌and horses, along with various travel equipment, while rain fell softly upon him. Talia lay draped across the windowsill, her eyes unblinking as she watched.
Barcas lifted his head as if gauging the time, glancing up at the ‌‌‌sky. The sight of silver rain gently enveloping his face filled her vision entirely.
It had been raining on the day she fell in love with him.
Talia recalled that day.

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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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