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Chapter 63
* * *
Once the unwelcome ‌‌‌visitor departed, I urged the Healer to ‌fill my room with billowing smoke.
As I inhaled the acrid air ‌‌that shimmered like heat haze, the turbulent sensations within me gradually began ‌to subside.
A profound sense of relief washed over me.
If I waited just a little longer, the herbal mist would seep into my very mind.
Then I wouldn't have to think about ‌‌‌‌‌anything. I simply wanted to sleep like the dead.
I sprawled across the bed and closed my eyes. Yet no matter how long I waited, a single thread of consciousness refused to snap, keeping me tethered ‌‌‌to reality.
Desperate to fall asleep, ‌‌I brought my face close to the brazier and inhaled the ‌‌‌‌acrid smoke more deeply, but only coughing erupted from my throat.
As my body ‌convulsed with violent coughs, even the faint drowsiness that had ‌‌‌begun to gather in my eyes fled away.
Overwhelmed by frustration, I gazed out the window. ‌‌The sky had already turned a deep crimson.
After staring at that ‌‌dizzying sunset glow for some time, as if drawn by an invisible force, I rose from the bed and stood on my own two feet.
The medicine seemed to be working properly—I felt no significant pain. ‌
I took a few tentative steps.
My left leg moved sluggishly, and my foot dragged across the floor. Yet ‌‌the sharp pain I'd felt each time ‌I bent my joints had subsided. It ‌‌‌‌seemed I could walk well enough.
I ‌‌slipped my thin feet into ‌‌slippers, then retrieved a hooded robe from the wardrobe.
Draping it loosely over myself, I ‌‌‌shuffled out of the bedroom.
By now, the Nursemaid would be lounging in her room.
The Healer had finished her duties and returned to her lodging, and the handmaids were likely resting in their own quarters.
As I made my way down the long corridor and descended the stairs, I encountered no one.
I passed through the grand hall and slipped out of the Secondary Palace through the servants' entrance.
A cool breeze brushed gently against my face.
Breathing in the cold air mingled with the scents of grass and flowers, I moved ‌‌‌‌forward with ‌‌‌faltering steps. ‌
After wandering aimlessly for some ‌‌‌time, I suddenly ‌‌realized I had come near the Training Grounds.
A faint ‌‌question stirred in my muddled mind.
Why did I come here?
As I gazed blankly at the Training Ground bathed in crimson light, I sensed a presence and instinctively concealed myself behind the brush.
A few Guard Knights were wielding swords in one corner of the Training Grounds, apparently engaged in sparring.
I watched them from a distance, then moved on.
After walking for a considerable time without knowing where I was going, my vision began to undulate like rippling water. The herbal remedy was finally ‌‌taking effect.
I dragged my weakened ‌‌‌legs forward, moving with a pace as slow as an earthworm.
Then suddenly, I noticed my shadow—which had ‌‌‌been stretching long across the ground—being swallowed by deep darkness. I lifted my head. Somehow, I had wandered into a dimly lit building.
Where was this?
As I furrowed my brow in confusion, a single door at the end of a long corridor caught my attention.
I staggered toward it and carefully knocked.
After a moment, a low voice came from within.
"What is it?"
I blinked slowly.
Only upon hearing that voice did I remember why I had come here.
I spoke in a halting voice.
"I came because there's something I wanted to tell you."
A cold silence settled between us.
Talia cleared her throat, wondering if her voice had been too quiet, and opened her mouth to speak again.
At that moment, heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, and the door swung open.
Talia lifted her gaze.
Having finished his daily duties and settled into rest, Barcas wore only dark trousers and a thin linen shirt draped loosely over his frame.
As I gazed at him with unfocused eyes, a cold voice cut down from above.
"You came all this way dressed like that?"
Talia lowered her eyes to examine her own attire.
Through the gap in her robe, the summer nightgown the Nursemaid had dressed her in was visible.
What was wrong with this?
As I frowned, a large piece ‌‌of fabric settled across my shoulders.
Talia looked up at him with a bewildered expression.
Barcas, having wrapped her body snugly in ‌‌his own coat, surveyed the corridor where darkness was beginning to deepen.
"Where is your escort?"
"My escort?"
His eyes sharpened.
Barcas gently gripped her chin ‌‌and tilted it upward, then bent toward her, his gaze searching hers intently.
"How much sleeping draught ‌‌‌did you burn through?"
Talia strained her eyes, trying to focus on his face, which kept blurring.
Barcas wore an expression I had never ‌seen before—strange and unfamiliar.
Or ‌‌perhaps it was my own mind that was strange.
When the entire world appeared distorted, how could this man appear normal?
She roughly pulled his hand away from her face and moistened her lips.
"I told you—I came because I have something to say."
I saw his eyes narrow. Something clearly displeased ‌‌‌‌him.
Barcas, who had been regarding her with a cool gaze, straightened and looked up at the sky beginning to darken beyond the window, then turned his gaze over his shoulder to survey his ‌‌‌‌own chamber.
As he seemed to contemplate something, ‌my anxiety grew.
Had I perhaps spoken in the language of elves or dwarves? Why wasn't he responding?
"Can't you hear me? I said I have something to tell you...."
Then, suddenly, my body tilted to ‌‌one side.
Talia hastily gripped the doorframe. It seemed her legs had cramped from the walk from the Secondary Palace to here. She felt ‌‌her ‌left thigh ‌‌muscle trembling faintly.
To keep from collapsing to the floor, she pressed both hands against ‌‌‌‌‌the wall and shifted her weight to her other leg.
In that instant, my body lifted into the air.
Startled, I looked up ‌‌‌‌to find a weary face filling my vision.
He carried her in both arms and stepped into the spacious Bedroom ‌‌where candles had been lit.
Talia lowered her gaze, taking in the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings.
Though I had come here many times to see him, this was my first time entering his chamber.
A faint laugh escaped me. It seemed I had only earned the right to step into his sanctuary now that my legs had failed me.
"We can talk after the medicine wears off."
Barcas set her down on his ‌‌bed and spoke ‌‌‌with a weary ‌‌‌sigh.
Talia seized the hem of his garment as he tried to withdraw, feeling the taut, meticulously honed musculature of his chest tense ‌subtly beneath ‌‌‌the thin fabric.
Had he somehow discerned what she ‌‌‌was about to say?
She gripped his sleeve like ‌‌a lifeline, struggling to focus her wavering gaze.
"No. I need to speak now. Once I regain my senses, I won't be able to say this..."
"...."
"You said that if I agreed, you would take me ‌as your wife, didn't you?"
He said nothing, only studying her eyes with relentless intensity.
Talia barely managed to move her tongue, which threatened to dissolve like overcooked noodles.
"Do it. Abandon Ayla Roem Guerta and take me as your wife instead."
A heavy silence descended. ‌‌
An indecipherable light flickered across his face, ‌‌‌silhouetted against the fading sunset. ‌‌
Was he bewildered?
The thought crossed her mind that he might feel disappointed by her answer, having spoken those words with the expectation of rejection.
Yet from his lips came a voice so disturbingly composed it was almost chilling.
"I shall do so."
Talia traced his features with unfocused eyes, and ‌‌‌‌‌a hollow laugh escaped her at the sight of his ‌‌barren expression, devoid of any emotion.
Because of this man, Ayla ‌‌had to swallow her ‌‌pride and seek out the half-sister she so despised.
I am consumed by the urge to ‌‌destroy ‌‌‌‌everything.
Yet why does this man remain so utterly serene?
Something fractured within me at the sight of his cool, detached face that even exuded a sense of ennui.

‌‌
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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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