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Chapter 77
Lucas wore an expression of exasperation.
Ever since hearing the news of Barcas's marriage, his younger sister seemed to have completely lost her mind.
Raina, ‌‌‌who harbored a subtle admiration for the ‌‌‌relationship between Ayla and Barcas, had conjured up ‌‌‌an amateurish romance in her head. And in that narrative, Talia Roem Guerta had emerged as a villainess of legendary proportions who had torn apart the tender bond between two ‌‌‌lovers.
Her eyes blazed with ‌‌‌‌determination, just as they had when she first chased after the mounted warriors to hunt the manticore.
"Just wait and see. I'll make that woman leave this place of her own accord. We're going to save our brother from the witch of the Taren Family!"
What in the world had possessed her to see Barcas Laedgo Sierchan as someone in need of rescue?
Sometimes he wanted to crack open her skull and peer ‌‌‌‌inside.
He swallowed a sigh and picked up the coat draped over the back of his chair.
"Well, do your best then."
"You're going to sneak away on your own like a coward?"
"Didn't ‌‌‌‌you see how our brother wrapped that woman ‌‌up tight before leaving? I have no desire to fall out of favor with the future Grand Duke by meddling in ‌pointless affairs."
"That's all part of her cunning schemes! Haven't you heard the rumors that the women ‌‌of the Taren Family steal men's souls with wicked sorcery?"
Raina foamed at the mouth.
"She must have feigned weakness to appeal to his sympathy! Our brother simply couldn't bear to turn a blind eye to such a pitiful sight!"
He shook his head firmly. There was no point in arguing with Raina in this state.
He heaved a deep sigh and took a step toward the door when Raina cried out loudly.
"Where are you going!"
"To ride. I need some fresh air to clear my head."
"You can't! Don't you know there's a welcome banquet for our brother coming up soon?"
He left the ‌‌‌‌room without even pretending to listen.
The Grand Hall was bustling with servants moving cargo.
Pale-faced laborers who appeared to be from the Central Region stacked enormous chests like mountains in one corner of the spacious hall, while the servants of Laedgo Castle opened the boxes and recorded their contents. At ‌‌‌‌first glance, they were treasures that would make anyone's eyes widen.
'So the rumors about her extravagance are true, it seems.'
He swept his eyes over the clothes ‌‌and various ornaments that filled the chests, then exited through the back door.
As he headed toward the Stable, ‌he noticed the warriors of the Wolfram Lance Brigade, who had departed to assist Barcas, gathered in clusters at the Martial Training Grounds located in the Backyard.
Spotting a familiar face among them, ‌‌‌Lucas immediately changed direction.
"Tyron!" ‌
A man who had been drinking wine while wearing only a loose tunic turned to ‌‌‌‌look at him over his shoulder.
"Ah, the Second Young Master."
He wiped his wet lips and spoke in his characteristic drawling manner.
"I trust you've been well?"
"Well enough to be bored out of my mind."
Lucas, who had plopped down on the steps surrounding the Martial Training Grounds, snatched the wine bottle from him and drained it in one gulp.
"How are things in the Capital City?"
"Unsettled, as expected."
The man, seemingly unbothered by his rudeness, shrugged casually and continued in an even tone.
"This marriage has thrown not only Marquis Orisstein but most of the Conservative Nobility into turmoil. Count Sierchan has had quite the time keeping them in check."
"What about the First Princess and the Crown Prince?"
"I never had ‌‌the chance to meet the First Princess. She's been confined to her chambers. Understandable, given she was jilted on the eve of her wedding. She likely won't make any ‌‌public appearances until a new match is ‌‌‌‌arranged for ‌‌‌her. ‌‌‌As for the Crown Prince...."
Tyron crossed his arms over ‌‌his chest and furrowed his brow as if carefully selecting his words.
"Though she's certainly furious, she's accepting the situation with surprising composure. Rather than becoming a complete enemy of Count Sierchan, she's judged it more advantageous to pretend to consent to this marriage and strengthen her position."
At the unexpected remark, Lucas tilted his head in confusion.
"That's surprising. I thought ‌‌he'd wage war with the Eastern Region to make the Crown ‌Prince pay for betraying his sister. The rumors said ‌he'd stop at nothing for the First Princess."
As Lucas recalled ‌the Crown Prince's rough demeanor from when he'd visited the Capital City years ago and knitted his brow, Tyron burst into laughter.
"Even a pig will calculate ‌when faced with ‌‌‌power. The Crown Prince may indeed care for his sister, but surely not more than the imperial throne itself. In fact, he seemed more concerned about ‌‌‌‌his support ‌‌base crumbling than about the humiliation the First Princess suffered."
Lucas furrowed his brow.
He too had received ‌education at the academy in the Capital City for several years, but he could never quite adapt to the values of the Central Region nobility.
The Eastern Region had stronger bonds of kinship.
Even if Raina were as disagreeable as she was, had she been jilted, they would have waged war to avenge that humiliation.
Suddenly, he felt a pang of sympathy for the First Princess.
She had been betrayed not only by her betrothed but also by the brother she had ‌‌‌trusted.
Perhaps Raina was ‌‌‌right. Women with Taren Family ‌‌‌blood possessed a dangerous allure that could make even men abandon their honor.
He recalled the deep blue ‌‌‌eyes that lay beneath the hood.
Those two eyes, shimmering with a faint warmth, were like living jewels.
No. Even the finest lapis lazuli could not compare to them.
His impulse to remove the hood had been entirely unconscious. The moment their eyes met, his ‌‌‌‌hand moved of its own accord.
He asked in a slightly hoarse voice.
"What kind of person is the Second Princess?"
Deep wrinkles formed across the nobleman's brow.
He paused for a moment before answering.
"I've only spoken with her once, so I don't know much. However, it's clear that her personality is far from ordinary, just as the rumors suggest."
"More so than Raina?"
"Surely not more than you, my lady."
He delivered it as a jest, though his own uncertainty showed in the shallow creases around his eyes.
Lucas felt ‌‌his curiosity swell even further.
What kind of person could make this slippery ‌‌‌‌man furrow his brow like that?
"What about her appearance? Is she really that beautiful?"
At the abrupt question, the man who had just taken the bottle back from his ‌hands hesitated, his gaze turning searching.
For some reason, Lucas felt a twinge of discomfort.
He scraped the heel of his shoe against the floor, feigning indifference.
The man, observing him quietly, drained the remaining sip of alcohol and spoke with casual ‌‌‌‌indifference.
"Enough to be problematic."
Then, with a contemplative expression, he added meaningfully.
"That's precisely why Count Sierchan keeps her so carefully hidden."
* * *
When she ‌‌‌‌opened her eyes, deep ‌‌‌darkness had settled over the room.
Talia gasped roughly, clutching at her throat. It felt as though invisible hands were strangling her.
Scratching at ‌‌‌‌her skin to tear away the formless fingers, Talia crawled toward the head of the bed and yanked the cord attached to the bell.
Moments later, the sound of the door opening echoed through the room.
Talia turned her head.
The moment the familiar silhouette came into view, the tightness in her chest dissolved. ‌‌Her body seemed to recognize him before her mind could ‌‌process it.
"Are you experiencing leg cramps?"
Barcas, who had lit a lamp by her bedside, leaned over the bed as he asked.
Talia took a long, deep breath and shook her head from side to side.
"I simply ‌‌‌‌‌called for a handmaid because I ‌‌‌‌was ‌‌thirsty."
His eyes narrowed. He clearly didn't believe her.
Barcas, who had been checking her temperature by pressing his hand to her forehead, issued a curt instruction to the handmaids who had ‌‌‌‌‌arrived belatedly.
"Bring medicine from the Healer."
Then he poured water into a cup and handed it to her.
She felt a flash of irritation at how openly he disregarded her words, but grateful that he had rushed to ‌‌‌her side, she accepted the cup without complaint.
As the cool water touched her lips, her foggy mind became considerably clearer.
She set down the cup and studied him with eyes now free of fever.
Barcas wore a fitted tunic beneath a ‌‌loose outer coat ‌‌‌‌of the kind the men of this region favored, draped casually across his shoulders.
The unfamiliar attire stirred something unsettling within her.
She caught herself stealing a glimpse of his chest, visible through the parted fabric, and quickly averted her gaze with an uncomfortable expression.
"What is that outfit? It looks strange."
"...It is traditional Eastern Region attire."
"Don't wear that anymore. It doesn't suit you."
In truth, it suited him devastatingly well.
The man who always maintained an impeccable, blade-sharp appearance now wore something so loose it seemed as though it might unravel at any moment—and there was something undeniably provocative about it.
For some reason, it bothered her.
She spoke with emphasis.
"You look completely undignified. If you go around dressed like ‌‌that, the retainers will take you lightly. So ‌don't wear it."
Barcas, gazing quietly down at her face, slowly nodded.
"Understood."

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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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