I Have No Business With You
Thalia felt something warm filling her body and let her limbs go limp.
The man who had been lying over her rose. At the same time, what had filled her inside slowly slipped free.
She bit her lip at the unfamiliar sensation and pressed her thighs tightly together.
Then his hand settled on her bandaged leg. Thalia cried out without thinking.
"Don't touch me!"
In the darkness, Barcas's shoulders visibly stiffened.
Ignoring that, she hastily dragged down her rucked-up skirt and set her feet on the floor beside the bed.
She tried to move her trembling legs toward the door, but a firm arm wrapped around her waist. In an instant she was hauled back onto the bed.
Thalia flailed her arms by instinct.
"L-let go! It's over now. I'm going back to my room!"
He seized her wrist, his eyes gleaming fiercely.
"You mean to finish only your business and leave?"
"I said that from the start."
Thalia swallowed the sob rising in her throat and glared at him with venomous eyes.
"I have no more business with you."
For a moment, the air in the room froze solid.
She felt painful force enter the hand gripping her wrist. She wrenched free violently and crawled to the edge of the bed.
I never held him out of love. So there's no reason to linger here.
Muttering the self-hypnosis inside her head, she staggered her feet off the bed.
In that instant, Barcas spat something unintelligible in the eastern tongue, snatched the blanket that had fallen to the floor, and wrapped her body snugly in it.
Caught in his solid embrace, Thalia lost her composure and began thrashing violently.
"No! Let go!"
But he paid no heed.
In a heartbeat Barcas had wound her body tightly and strode out of the room wearing only his trousers slung at his hips.
The servants standing guard at the door gaped at them. Barcas didn't so much as blink.
Carrying her, he went straight down the corridor, climbed the stairs, and opened the door to the bedroom on the third floor.
Thalia glared at him with a face stained by sweat and tears. The light spilling from the candelabra brightly revealed his sweat-slicked smooth torso, disheveled silver hair, and blue eyes and handsome face.
Even looking more unguarded than ever, he still seemed only solid and cold.
"Is this enough?"
Barcas set her on the bed and spoke coldly.
Thalia pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned away from him. She knew he was angry, but it was none of her concern.
"I want to be alone. Get out."
"……."
"Please, just get out."
When she cried out roughly in a trembling voice, his expressionless face finally twisted.
Barcas drew a deep breath and bent before her.
"Just tell me this. Did I hurt you?"
Yes. You always hurt me.
She almost answered that, then closed her mouth. She knew with her head that it would be an unfair answer.
It was she who had barged in and forced the night together. She also knew how absurd she must look, acting as if she'd been violated after that.
But in this moment, such rational thoughts were of no help at all. Like a caterpillar curled in its cocoon, she hugged her knees tightly and shook her head.
"I just want to rest. So please just leave me alone. I don't want to face you anymore."
Had her willful attitude exhausted his patience? His whole body stiffened rigidly, tendons standing out across his bare torso. It was a threatening sight enough to make fear surge up.
But as always, he quieted in an instant. Drawing another deep breath, Barcas rose from his place with a hardened face.
"I'll call a healer so they can check your condition."
"I don't need one."
"If you don't promise to receive proper treatment, I won't leave."
Suddenly Barcas's tone roughened.
Thalia, who had been glaring at him with wet eyes, soon nodded.
"Fine, so… please go."
His jaw muscle hardened.
The man who had stood motionless for a long while as if wanting to say something finally turned.
Soon the sound of the door opening and closing rang out, and a silence like ruins settled. Listening to his regular footsteps, Thalia soon curled into a ball on the bed and closed her eyes.
She was terribly tired. Enough that she wanted to melt away and disappear just like that…
Over the fields fully tinged with autumn light, a flock of kites soared in circles. A few of them glided down to the ground in elegant curves. Where they headed, the carcass of a stallion mauled by beasts lay sprawled.
Traces of the wolves that had appeared suddenly at dawn the night before.
"Fortunately there were no human casualties, I'm told. But the damage the ranch suffered is not small."
Barcas watched a gray-brown bird of prey tear flesh from the horse's ribs, then turned his eyes to the gently continuing ridge.
Beyond the collapsed stone wall, three or four mares could be seen fallen. All with necks and belly hides torn. Daren, following his gaze, let out a deep sigh.
"I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that the Nornek mountain stallions are unharmed…"
"Have you formed a subjugation party?"
"The guard has been combing Armund Forest thoroughly since early morning. But they vanished without a trace, I'm told. It seems to be a pack led by a very clever alpha."
"Double the tracking personnel, and post guards at the ranch and the village outskirts."
Barcas gripped Tork's reins with his leather-gloved hand and gave the order in a heavily sunk tone. Daren immediately nodded to the subordinates standing behind him.
"You heard? Deliver His Grace's orders to the unit at once."
Two soldiers ran out over the broken fence toward the castle walls.
Turning his head again to confirm the ranch's damage, Barcas soon turned his steps toward the village.
The small village formed north of Kalmor was bustling with those who had come out to gawk at their new lord. Without sparing them a glance, he moved along the gravel-paved road, when Daren, quietly following, carefully opened his mouth.
"Troublesome things have been happening one after another lately. As if the Zramian raiders starting to run rampant weren't enough, now a wolf pack too."
"……."
"You must be unsettled with the bad events piling up since the succession ceremony, but please take care of yourself. Your complexion hasn't been the same lately."
Barcas, who had been walking silently, stopped short and looked back at him. Thinking he had given offense, the man immediately bowed his head.
"If I spoke out of turn, please forgive me. It was only out of concern for Your Grace's well-being…"
"Do I look tired enough to warrant such worry?"
Barcas asked, stroking his chin.
The man who had examined his face for a moment scratched the back of his head and said awkwardly.
"You've seemed particularly irritable these past few days. I wondered if perhaps you weren't sleeping."
Barcas, who had been frowning, turned his steps again and answered as if sighing.
"Seems I've caused you worry. I'll be mindful."
Indeed, these past few days he hadn't managed even three or four hours of sleep a day. It wasn't only because of the mountain of official duties.
He turned his head and looked up at the fortress seated on the hill.
Midday autumn sunlight was pouring down over the massive building where she would be staying.
That woman is still shut up in her room, no doubt.
Suddenly feeling a bitter, metallic taste spreading through his mouth, he scraped the membrane inside with the tip of his tongue. Blood was seeping from the flesh chewed by his molars. A strange habit he'd developed recently.
He scraped the ragged flesh inside his cheek with his tongue and swallowed the metallic liquid down his throat. As the scent of blood brushed his nose, an unpleasant afterimage rose.
Furrowing his brow at the strange heat surging in his gut, Barcas roughly raked his hair up.