TFM 39

Chapter 39

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Varkas reached the carriage in an instant and tossed her onto the seat.

Talia rubbed her throbbing buttocks and glared at him with eyes full of resentment. Then, seeing his face harden into a grim expression, she froze. Varkas, looking down at her with an expression that had reached the limit of his patience, spat out.

"Didn't I warn you not to cause any more trouble?"

Her hesitation lasted only a moment before Talia shot him a defiant glare.

"Why should I listen to you? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm certainly more than just a princess in name only."

A cold sneer touched the corner of Varkas's mouth.

Talia choked back a sob and sprang to her feet. She felt she couldn't stand it any longer without slapping that arrogant face.

But Varkas was one step faster. Leaning over her, he pinned her arms down. He looked down at her with a dry, emotionless gaze. His dry gaze, devoid of any pity, swept over her flushed cheeks and the neck that was undoubtedly black and blue.

A sigh, as if he were utterly disgusted, escaped his lips.

"Do you truly not understand why you're acting this way? No one here will actively protect you. If the Crown Prince decides, no one can guarantee your life."

"Why should you care about that?"

Talia snapped sharply.

"If I disappear from this world, wouldn't you be the one most relieved?"

"I cannot deny it."

Though it was the answer she had expected, Talia felt a pain as if her heart were bleeding.

He continued with a cruelty-laced calmness.

"But I cannot allow your actions to jeopardize the Crown Prince's position. Therefore, if you wish to harm yourself, please do so with your own hands."

Talia clenched her fists, her eyes burning hot.

He slowly rose to his feet. His sharply defined face was now covered by the mask of a steadfast knight. He added in a businesslike tone.

"First, I will summon a healing mage. After you've regained your composure, take your rest."

Talia responded by picking up the wine goblet sprawled on the floor and flinging it away. The silver goblet struck his chest and rolled to the ground. Varkas, who had been glaring at her with a cold, exasperated look, promptly stepped out of the carriage.

Talia slammed the door shut. Tears she had desperately held back finally streamed down her cheeks. Fearing her sobs might escape, she hastily covered her mouth. The sob caught in her throat, choking her. She wished she could suffocate right there.

***

Atop Ulgram Hill, only the white temple stood, erected by Emperor Darian to commemorate Osiriya’s independence.

Pilgrims halted before it, gazing up at the majestic, gleaming white structure with reverent eyes.

Despite the passage of centuries, the temple remained almost perfectly preserved.

They scanned the prayers carved into the walls and the statues of various heroes, falling into a religious trance. Yet the Crown Prince seemed to feel no emotion at all for the relics left by his ancestors.

Gareth leapt down from his saddle and scanned the arched entrance with a bored look.

"Is this the second holy site?"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

One of the attendants answered in a tense voice.

The attendants, well aware his mood had been at rock bottom since the previous day, all wore subdued expressions, watching the Crown Prince's reactions. Only Varkas maintained his usual calm demeanor.

"I hear there is no resident priest here. We shall prepare the rites ourselves."

Varkas approached the Crown Prince and spoke.

The Crown Prince, who had been glaring at him with a strange, hostile look in his eyes, whipped his body around and replied.

"Then stop dawdling and hurry up."

The moment his order fell, the attendants parked the carriages near the temple and began unloading the bundles. The attendants of the First and Second Princess, who had arrived late, joined in.

While soldiers swiftly erected tents, servants retrieved ritual items from trunks—incense burners, sacred plates, silver pitchers, and candlesticks—and began polishing them until they gleamed. Once the basic preparations were complete, maids immediately assisted the Crown Prince and the First Princess with their attire.

Watching the scene from a short distance away, Edric approached the carriage where Talia had shut herself in. If she was to participate in the ceremony, he needed to gently urge her to prepare herself. But, to his frustration, the words wouldn't come.

He stared at the tightly closed door and scratched the back of his head rather roughly. The memory of the Second Princess from the previous evening surfaced, causing his stomach to knot uncomfortably.

Letting his raised arm fall limply, Edric looked toward the Crown Prince's tent set up a short distance away.

While servants carried a large tub to the front of the tent, filled it with water, and lit a fire beneath it, the Crown Prince sat back in his chair, leisurely sipping wine. That serene sight left a bitter taste in his mouth.

'He beats his sister to that state and shows not a shred of guilt.'

He'd heard rumors that the Crown Prince struck the Second Princess, but he never imagined it would be that severe.

He clenched his fists, recalling the sight of that frail woman, barely a handful, struggling as she was punched in the face and choked by a burly man. Only because Lord Shiokan happened to be nearby prevented a horrific tragedy from unfolding.

Edric stared at his palms, damp with cold sweat, then turned away.

Talia Roem Guirta would stubbornly refuse to participate in the ceremony anyway. No point wasting energy on her.

He swallowed a heavy sigh and started walking toward the temple when a clattering sound reached him from behind.

"Hey, you."

Startled, Edric whipped his head around and spotted Talia standing at the carriage entrance, arms crossed. His eyes widened. As if nothing had happened, the woman stepped down from the carriage with her usual haughty expression and gestured.

"Call the maids."

"………………Yes?"

The woman shot him an irritated look as he blinked blankly.

"Are you ugly, stupid, and deaf too? I'm getting dressed, so fetch the maids immediately!"

Stunned into a dazed expression by the first verbal assault he'd ever heard, Edric quickly turned and summoned the personal servants assigned to him by the Empress.

For some reason, seeing Talia speak with such fierce confidence drew a sigh of relief from him. Last night, the healer had neatly patched up her wounds, but she had endured harsh suffering all day on an empty stomach. He had feared she might collapse.

'Thankfully, she seems fine.'

Then again, this was the woman who had mocked the Crown Prince without a trace of fear, even after narrowly escaping death. She wasn't the type to be easily broken.

Edric let out a hollow laugh, then immediately ordered his servants to fetch water and commanded his men to dress in their uniforms. Since the Second Princess seemed finally willing to participate in the imperial family's traditional ceremony, he intended to properly assist her as a guard knight.