Be Careful
It was as if he were merely setting out for an evening stroll, so offhand was his tone.
Thalia arched an eyebrow.
“A light suppression campaign?”
Barcas, who had been handing a leather pouch filled with gold coins to a man who appeared to be an administrator, looked down at her. As if sensing that her mood had soured, a faint sigh escaped through his firmly closed lips.
“There has been a report that raiders have set up camp in this area. The scale of their base is not particularly large, so we should be able to return by sunrise.”
Do you really have to go yourself?
She had been about to spit the words out, but upon sensing the dozens of pairs of eyes fixed upon her, Thalia clamped her mouth shut.
Anxiety churned in her stomach, yet she had no desire to let this utterly indifferent man see how flustered she was on his account.
She brushed the hand from her shoulder and snapped coldly,
“What does it matter to me when you come back? I want to rest, so just show me to the lodgings.”
From across the way came the sound of the administrator sucking in a sharp breath as he watched their exchange.
Barcas himself, however, showed not the slightest reaction. He turned back toward the administrator and asked,
“Where are the lodgings?”
“Ah… this way, please.”
The man hurriedly took the lead and began walking. Following him, a modest stone building came into view.
Stepping inside, the administrator fumbled through his explanation.
“This building was originally used as official quarters, but upon hearing that Your Grace would be visiting, we cleared it out thoroughly. Here—you may use this room.”
He carefully opened the large door situated at the innermost part.
Thalia surveyed the dim bedroom with a listless gaze. Unlike its shabby exterior, the interior had been furnished quite cozily. It seemed they had deliberately prepared it for receiving guests.
Gauging her reaction, the administrator carefully added,
“If there is anything lacking, please tell me at once. I will have it corrected immediately.”
“No, this will do. You may leave.”
Thalia, examining the bed covered in thick sheets, lifted her chin haughtily as she spoke.
After checking Barcas’s expression, the administrator soon took his leave.
Thalia threw off her trailing robe carelessly and flopped down onto the bed. Barcas, who had been watching her in silence, approached her side.
She deliberately ignored his presence and turned her body the other way. Looking at his face would only make her spit out more spiteful words for no reason.
Fumbling to pull the blanket over herself, she muttered curtly,
“I’m just going to sleep tonight, so tell the nanny I don’t need dinner.”
“Thalia.”
Sensing a deep shadow fall over her head, Thalia flinched and opened her eyes. Barcas was leaning over her, one hand planted beside the pillow, looking down at her.
The sunset light piercing through the window dyed one side of his face red. As she was lost in that enigmatic face, cool fingers settled upon her forehead.
“Even if you are tired, do not skip your meals.”
“Whether I starve or not, what business is it of yours?”
Thalia twisted her head to shake off his touch mercilessly.
“You just hurry up and go kill those raiders.”
A shallow furrow formed between his brows. He seemed not to have the slightest idea why her mood had soured.
Thalia pulled the blanket up to the crown of her head.
Soon she heard the sound of him rising from the bed. At the receding footsteps, anxiety suddenly surged up.
He was a man who could casually take down giants twice his size. She had even seen him chain a wyvern and bring it down. A band of raiders would be nothing to him.
But there was no such thing as absolute in this world.
She sat up abruptly and seized the edge of his cloak.
He paused and looked back at her. In a voice that trailed off, she mumbled,
“Take… care of yourself.”
His eyes widened a little.
Seeing him react that way to such a trivial remark made her feel a twinge of embarrassment. She added roughly, as if glossing over it,
“If something happens to you, my position becomes precarious. So just… take reasonable care of yourself.”
A subtle expression that was neither quite a smile nor a frown flickered across his face and vanished.
Thalia hid herself back under the blanket. Soon heavy footsteps approached.
“Do not worry. I will return soon.”
Barcas leaned over the bed once more and carefully stroked her hair.
At the unexpected contact, her heart plummeted. For some reason, that gentle touch made her heart tingle more than any passionate kiss.
A moment later, he left the room.
Thalia cautiously lifted her head like a snail peeking out of its shell.
Approaching the window, she saw hundreds of soldiers standing ready in front of the mansion. Before long, Barcas joined them. Thalia watched for a long while as he led the army toward the outskirts of the village.
Even after his form disappeared beyond the hill, she could not bring herself to leave the window, when a familiar voice came from outside the door.
“Your Highness, I have come to apply the medicine.”
“…Come in.”
No sooner had permission been given than the healer of the Taren family entered.
Thalia limped over and perched on the chair placed before the fireplace. The woman who knelt before her carefully lifted the hem of her clothes and asked,
“How is your condition?”
“Same as always, I suppose.”
With skilled hands she unwrapped the tightly wound bandages and carefully examined the marred skin.
“In the end, the skin has begun to fester. It would be best to leave the bandages off tonight.”
Thalia glared at her with sharp eyes.
“No. Wrap them properly.”
“His Grace the Grand Duke is away tonight as well, is he not? There is no need to hide the scars…”
“Who said I’m doing this because of Barcas!”
Thalia raised her voice sharply. The healer’s face stiffened with a start.
Glaring at that tense face, Thalia muttered in a subdued voice,
“I just don’t want to look at them myself. So wrap them properly.”
The healer let out a short sigh and, as if she had no choice, took out a new bandage. Then she carefully spread the sticky ointment over the scars and wrapped the bandages as loosely as possible.
“Does the medicine made by the eastern sorcerers seem to be working well?”
The woman, wiping the ointment from her hands with a towel, suddenly asked.
Thalia answered indifferently,
“It doesn’t seem completely ineffective. The medicine is so strong that my stomach hurts a little, but after taking it, my body feels better the next day.”
“Do you know what herbs are in it?”
“I only heard that it mixes various herbs that replenish vitality.”
Thalia looked down at the healer with a suspicious gaze.
“Why are you prying so much? Don’t tell me you think someone poisoned me?”
“…I received instructions from Her Majesty the Empress to carefully look after Your Highness’s body.”
The healer carefully began.
“And there are not a few people here who are not pleased with Your Highness’s presence. It never hurts to be careful.”
Thalia, who had been glaring at her with a hardened expression, coldly retorted,
“If they were going to poison me, they’d put it in the food or the wine glass. Why mix it into medicine when it would be so easily found out?”
The woman closed her mouth with a thoughtful expression.
Was there something that bothered her?
Making a displeased face, Thalia added as if doing her a favor,
“If you’re that suspicious, I’ll leave a little of the medicine, so take it and check.”