The Boy Departs
The man’s large hand moved slowly across her stomach over the soft fabric, as though he were stroking something he owned.
“You wear the same perfume as your mother. Lady Senebier’s hair carried this scent as well. Once a man has drunk it in, he becomes addicted and cannot help but keep… keep searching for it.”
The man’s hand crept higher, fumbling toward her chest.
Talia twisted instinctively, trying to pull free of his arm, but the man did not budge.
He held her tightly from behind and pressed his damp, hot lips beneath her earlobe. It felt as though a caterpillar had fastened itself to her skin and was sucking out its juices.
Her body, rigid with revulsion, soon convulsed into violent thrashing.
The man shoved her down onto the soft carpet with brutal force.
She flailed like someone drowning. A table overturned, sending the puzzle tower she had spent hours building crashing to the floor. She crawled desperately over the scattered pieces, trying to escape the beast pinning her down, but he seized her ankle and dragged her back.
Talia looked up at him with eyes wide with terror. A primal fear surged through her at the realization that someone could overpower her so easily.
“Be still… just be still for a moment.”
The man pinned both her wrists with one hand and cupped her chin with the other.
She struggled to turn her head, but it was useless. He forced her mouth open by pressing on her cheeks and pushed his thick tongue inside.
Her throat clenched with nausea. It felt as though a massive slug were crawling into her mouth.
She lacked even the courage to bite down on the hideous thing. Tears leaked from her eyes as she gagged in pain. The man ground his massive, muscular body against her, breathing hard and ragged.
“Ah… Lady Senebier… how I have missed you…”
His hand slipped beneath her skirts. The rough scrape of his palm against bare skin sent tremors through her entire body.
Deathly terror flooded her. She felt long, hard fingers invade the deep place between her thighs.
The sharp pain inside her made her mouth gape like a fish hauled onto land. The man pressed his sticky, glue-like lips to hers and muttered in a hoarse voice.
“There is no need to be so frightened. The pain will last only a moment. Soon Your Highness will be crying out in pleasure as well…”
Suddenly the crushing weight vanished as though it had never been there.
Talia scrambled instinctively into the corner and curled up. For several seconds she could not comprehend what had happened.
Only after a few heartbeats did she realize that Barcas, dressed in the uniform of a Roem Knight, had seized the man by the head with one hand and was smashing his face mercilessly against the wall.
The sight was so unreal that her mind went blank. Half of the man’s once-smooth face was now a bloody ruin, scraped raw against the rough wall, and grotesque moans of pain spilled from his misshapen mouth.
“L-let go… let’s… talk about this…”
Barcas grabbed the struggling man’s hair and slammed his head against the wall again and again without mercy. With each heavy thud the man’s face was crushed further. Talia barely swallowed a scream.
“Talia.”
His voice was quiet, almost gentle, as he kept his gaze fixed on the bloodied face.
“Go to your room.”
The calm tone seemed impossible coming from a man who had just committed such violence. Talia did not immediately realize the words were meant for her. Only when she met his blue eyes, clouded like a sky heavy with ash, did she understand he was speaking to her.
“Talia Roem Guerta.”
His voice was strangely serene. Barcas, who had dared to speak the princess’s name so freely, added slowly,
“Did you not hear me tell you to go to your room?”
Talia remained huddled in the corner, staring up at him blankly. Then an explosive roar burst from his mouth.
“Now!”
In that instant, it felt as though sparks had ignited across her entire body.
She fled the study like a horse struck by a whip and threw herself into the bedroom, burrowing beneath the thick blankets. A sharp, stinging pain flared across her skin.
She rubbed her tingling flesh roughly. It still felt as though the slippery tongue and hard palms were crawling over her. Desperate to erase the sensation, she scraped at her neck, chest, and thighs, then began pounding her own body with her fists.
It was horrible. The man, the body he had touched, the fact that Barcas had seen her like that—everything was horrible.
She struck her thighs hard enough to bruise, then buried her face in the pillow and let out a raw, animal wail.
She did not know how long she had been crying when she sensed another presence. She lifted her head sharply.
Barcas stood in the doorway, as immaculate and elegant as ever.
“You will never have to see that man again.”
He spoke flatly. Talia blinked at him, then whispered in a trembling voice,
“…Did you kill him?”
Barcas’s brow furrowed slightly.
After a brief silence he spoke again.
“He will be permanently exiled. He will never again set foot in the capital or any major city for the rest of his life…”
At that moment the last thread of her reason snapped. Talia snatched up a pillow and hurled it at his face.
“Why! Why did you let him live! You should have killed him! You should have killed him horribly! You should have cut off those filthy hands that touched me… and that filthy tongue that violated me…!”
She screamed like a madwoman, then suddenly clutched her throat and began to tremble violently. A suffocating sensation, as though someone were strangling her, swept over her.
“If you let him live he’ll come back… he’ll come back to trample me again. He’ll try to defile me again. He said so himself. He said once a man tastes that scent he becomes addicted and cannot help but keep… keep searching…”
A sob tore from her constricted throat.
Talia covered her tear-streaked face with both hands and gasped for breath. Then, as though possessed, she began hurling every object she could reach at him.
“Useless bastard! I don’t need someone like you! Get out! Get out of here! Disappear from my sight…!”
She flung books and dolls wildly, then froze. The heavy candlestick she had grabbed flew straight at his head.
The solid metal scraped roughly across Barcas’s forehead and temple before clattering loudly to the floor.
Talia stared, mouth agape, as dark red blood welled and stained his pale cheek and neck.
A strange, sighing sound escaped her throat. Barcas regarded her with cold eyes, then slowly turned away.
In that instant a chill spread through her entire body, as though she had been doused with ice water.
Talia scrambled off the bed to catch him, but Barcas had already left the room.
She stared blankly down the darkened corridor, then collapsed to the floor as though her legs had given way. She wished she could sink into the earth itself.
Barcas had saved her. And she had used him as a target for her rage. It was only natural that he would feel disgusted. She buried her wretched, crumpled face in the carpet and wept hot tears.
After that day, Barcas never appeared before her again. It was several months later that Talia finally saw him at the appointment ceremony for the commander of the imperial knights.
From a distance she watched as he knelt on one knee before the emperor and recited the oath of loyalty in a calm, steady voice.
Her father drew the imperial sword and laid it upon his shoulder, then solemnly declared that the position of commander of the imperial guard was being bestowed upon him.
Though the post was far too heavy for a young man not yet twenty, no one questioned his qualifications. Barcas rose slowly and descended the steps. Sunlight poured through the windows like a downpour across his composed face.
She engraved every detail of that moment into her memory.
Barcas walked straight-backed through the crowd. His cool profile passed her without a glance.
As that back moved steadily farther away, beyond her reach, she whispered quietly after him.
“Goodbye.”
Then, almost without thinking, she added,
“Don’t go.”
Tears threatened to spill; Talia frowned. Soon his figure disappeared completely from view.
Seven years ago, the boy her mother had gifted her had left her side just like that.