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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 71
My mouth went dry under ‌‌‌that cold, piercing gaze.
Talia bit at her ‌‌swollen lip with her ‌‌‌fingertips, her eyes downcast.
I had no idea what to say.
My lips remained sealed as though I'd lost my voice entirely, my eyes darting aimlessly about, when a monotone voice cut through the silence.
"Your Nursemaid ‌is in the ‍‌‌‌adjacent room. Call for her if you need anything."
Talia lifted her head to look at him again.
Barcas methodically threaded his arms into his shirt sleeves as he continued speaking in that measured tone.
"I plan to depart for the Eastern Region in a week. I'll have the servants prepare for the journey, so gather any belongings you wish to bring well in advance."
"So... so soon?"
As I stammered in confusion, Barcas—fastening the buttons of his shirt—turned his gaze back to me.
Those eyes, shrouded in a dense fog, appraised my face with deliberate care.
"Is there a reason you must remain longer at the Imperial Palace?"
Talia looked up at him with words caught in her throat, then ‌‌‌‌slowly shook her ‌head.
Observing this, Barcas approached the bedside with measured steps. My heart clenched as his face drew unexpectedly near.
Talia's gaze fixed involuntarily on his lips. Between the slight parting, I glimpsed the crimson of his tongue.
That had been inside me.
Had it been real, or merely a dream?
Lost in such thoughts, my chin was lifted, ‌‌and those transparent blue eyes came within inches of mine.
"Like yesterday, do you frequently experience sudden intensification of pain?"
My already-clenched heart ‌‌‌now fractured with an audible crack.
Talia roughly knocked his hand away. Irritation surged within ‌‌me at being treated like a ‌‌‌‌gravely ill patient. ‌‌‌
"I don't know. Why should I?"
"If there ‌‌‌‌is indeed ‌‌a ‌problem, perhaps additional treatment could——"
"Even the Taren Family Mage couldn't manage it. What do you think you ‌‌‌can do?"
As my voice rose with anxiety, his lips pressed into a firm line. That sharp, crimson mouth captured my attention once more.
What mattered now was the fact that last night, those lips had ravaged me of their own accord. So why was I concerning myself with such trivial matters as my legs?
Talia moistened her parched lips.
"Rather... about yesterday..."
Why did you do that to me? Was it just to make me take the medicine?
I wanted to ask, but closed my mouth again.
Perhaps the touch of lips had ‌‌‌been nothing more than a fleeting instant. My muddled mind might have distorted the memory entirely.
She swallowed dryly and stole a glance at his expression.
Seemingly uninterested in the words I'd left unspoken, Barcas straightened and delivered his next statement in that same monotone.
"I've stationed a Healer in the adjacent room. Should you experience any discomfort, summon them immediately."
That's all?
You have nothing else to say to me?
Questions swirled endlessly in my mouth, rolling only across my tongue, when his calm voice continued.
"Until the day ‌of departure, I intend to remain at the Imperial Palace."
Talia looked up at him as though she'd been struck across the head.
Cool fingers descended onto my ‌‌forehead.
My ‌‌‌skin prickled as though a blade had touched it.
When I instinctively shrank back, Barcas—who had been brushing the tangled hair from her face—withdrew his hand.
Dark shadows fell across his face as he stood with his back to the window.
"For the ‌‌time being, you won't have occasion to see me. So please, set your mind at ease."
Talia opened her mouth ‌‌urgently.
Though I felt I should say something, my throat constricted, and no sound emerged.
He turned slowly and retrieved his coat from where ‌‌it hung upon the wall.
Talia could only watch, transfixed, as his figure crossed the room.
Grasping the door handle, Barcas glanced back over his shoulder. His lips parted slightly as though he meant to speak, yet he said nothing and departed without another word.
As the door ‌‌‌closed with a soft click, Talia gazed ‌‌‌at it blankly before lowering her feet from the bed. A tingling sensation shot through her bones. Ignoring the searing pain that throbbed like boiling water, I approached the door and turned the handle.
Barcas had already ‌descended the stairs; only silence lingered in the corridor.
With a deflated expression, I closed the door again and made my way to the bedside.
The only trace of him remaining in ‌‌‌the room was a single formal robe, neatly folded. ‌‌
I unfolded ‌‌the ‌‌garment from where it lay stacked on the shelf and buried my face in the smooth fabric.
Instead of mint, a rich rose fragrance seeped into my nostrils.
From holding her all day, the ornate embroidered silk bore only the heavy scent of perfumed oil that the handmaids had applied with such care. ‌‌I draped it around myself and lay down upon the cold bed.
I recalled the broad embrace that had held me ‌‌steady through my suffering.
He had needed to tend to a patient through the night—it must have been the worst of ‌‌nights for him. What man in this world would welcome such an arduous and ‌‌vexing wedding night?
Talia bit down hard on her trembling lips.
From the start, this ‌‌marriage had been accepted merely to satisfy a petty desire ‌‌for revenge. Having made him recoil on the very first night, I ought to be pleased.
I forced my bitter heart to settle and gazed up at the luminous glass panes. Beyond the transparent ‌‌barrier, sunlight streamed brilliantly.
Suddenly, it struck me that this ‌‌was the first morning I would greet as Talia Roem Sierchan.
Talia murmured with an uncertain expression.
How will my life unfold ‌‌‌‌from this moment forward...?
* * *
Before long, the day ‌‌‌‌of departure for the Eastern Region drew near.
Talia, who had begun her preparations from early morning under the relentless urging of the handmaids, gazed out the window with ‌‌‌‌weary eyes.
More than twenty supply carriages lined the vast courtyard. Atop them lay bolts ‌‌‌of silk wrapped in linen, dwarven-crafted ornaments, dresses woven by the fae, and chests filled with precious jewels, stacked layer upon layer.
Half had been sent as betrothal ‌gifts from the Imperial Palace, while the other half were treasures she had obsessively accumulated over long years.
Talia, who once gazed upon these coveted treasures with fervent ‌‌‌passion, now ‌regarded them with indifferent eyes before drawing the curtains closed.
Merely a season ago, I had been desperate to acquire rare gowns and ornaments, hoping that Barcas would see me shining more brilliantly than ‌‌‌anyone and regret his betrothal to Ayla.
Yet now, jewels and garments mattered little. After all, I could never become as graceful as Ayla or as beautiful as ‌‌‌‌Senebier.
No matter how lavishly I adorned this body, I would only appear pitiful and wretched.
Talia sat upon ‌‌‌the bed and rubbed her aching knees.
The pain reliever she had taken at dawn had already worn off, and the dull ache began to ‌‌‌‌‌‌resurface.
She inserted a fresh incense stick into the cold brazier. Just as I ‌‌‌‌was about to light it, a knock sounded from behind.
"Your Highness, Count ‌‌Sierchan has arrived."
In that instant, my senses, which had been dulled as though submerged in water, awakened vividly.
Talia hastily set down the incense stick and rose from her seat.
As I approached the door and grasped the handle, a line of Handmaids stretched along the wall came into view.
Talia's eyes swept across them.
"...Where is the Nursemaid?"
"She boarded the Carriage ahead of us."
Talia, who had been anxiously fretting over ‌‌‌whether the Nursemaid might insist on returning to the Imperial Palace, released a sigh of relief. ‌‌‌
"Wait just a moment. I'll be right out."
As I turned to retrieve my outer garment, ‌‌‌an elderly Handmaid spoke up urgently.
"Count Sierchan ‌‌instructed me to give you this."
Talia looked down at the flowing garment the Handmaid offered with a frown.
It was a loose hooded cloak that would cover my entire body. Clearly, it had been brought to conceal my ‌limping gait.
Though humiliation burned in my ears, Talia donned it without complaint.
The long hem swept down to my feet, making me look as though I were draped in a curtain.
She smoothed her hand across the sleek fabric's surface, ‌‌then gestured toward the Handmaids with a tilt of her chin.
"Let's go now."

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