TFM 41

Chapter 41

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***

The crown prince's thick neck veins bulged.

As if ready to swing a fist at any moment, Edric pressed himself close beside Talia. Varkas, who had been standing silently like a shadow, must have sensed the danger too, for he slipped between them.

"The schedule has been significantly delayed. Let us proceed with the ceremony now."

The Second Princess, who had frozen for a moment, turned her eyes to Varkas.

Though it lasted only an instant, Edric, his nerves taut, could feel the rigid tension building in her body. Even this thunderous woman seemed to know better than to provoke Lord Shiokan when he wore his stern expression.

She pressed her lips tightly together and averted her gaze. The Crown Prince, who had been seething as if ready to explode, gritted his teeth and stepped back before the altar.

Seeing the situation seemingly resolved, the chief priest, who had been crouching like a lizard, watching for cues, cleared his throat and resumed the ceremony.

Edric stood a short distance away, watching as the three members of the royal family received the consecration prayer in turn.

The Crown Prince stepped forward first, bowing his head. The chief priest raised a silver chalice, poured holy water into it, and murmured words of blessing in the ancient language.

Next, the First Princess and her future husband, Lord Shiokan, approached the altar. Finally, Talia bowed before the priest.

Edric stared at Talia, her eyes lowered, as if she were a stranger.

The light streaming from hundreds of candles cast a mystical glow over her golden-brown hair and pale skin, making her appear like a being from another dimension.

As he gazed at her in a daze, the priest poured holy water over her head.

Transparent droplets moistened her golden hair, sliding down her smooth forehead and cheeks, along her straight nose, and gathering at the tip of her chin.

The priest raised his hand above her head, pouring divine power over her.

"May God's grace be with you forever…………”

The prayer, which seemed as if it would never end, abruptly ceased.

As the priest rang the silver bell, the Crown Prince rose first from his seat and crossed the congregation.

The First Princess and Lord Shiokan followed, and Talia Roem Guirta also slowly straightened her body. Then, lifting her chin high with a queenly bearing, she strode purposefully across the congregation.

All eyes were fixed on her imposing presence.

The embodiment of discord. A repulsive and ominous being.

It was as if they were realizing for the first time that this woman, whom they had always perceived as such, was in fact the empire's princess...

***

Perhaps due to the rapid ascent, the air, which had been as hot as a bath, turned cool.

Breathing in the dry, crisp air, Talia looked up at the sky beyond the window, where the sun was setting.

Deep blue night was gathering in the east. Another day was ending without incident.

Her throat grew hot, as if she'd swallowed a ball of fire.

Talia opened the storage box tucked into the corner of the carriage and drew out the small silver knife she'd brought from the monastery. The pale, gleaming blade seemed to speak to her, weary from waiting.

She tucked it into her pocket and stepped cautiously from the carriage. The bustling scene of the campsite spread before her eyes.

Pulling the hood of her gown tightly over her head, she scanned her surroundings carefully. It seemed a grand feast was being held to lift Gareth's low spirits.

Servants bustled busier than ever between tents, carrying wine and food, while several soldiers were already thoroughly drunk.

Talia licked her parched lips, fingering the blade tucked in her pocket. The noisy atmosphere was welcome. It would make her task easier. She crossed the camp cautiously.

Then, a guard knight who spotted her came running over, his face bright with joy.

"Your Highness!"

Talia frowned.

Why was this man so persistently wagging his tail at her? His unnervingly familiar attitude was downright unpleasant.

Glaring at his harmless face, as if he had no ulterior motives, Talia let out a loud snort and briskly walked past him. But even that cold response didn't deter the man.

"You must have been quite bored, Your Highness? Come this way. The servants are preparing the food. Watching the cooking process should put Your Highness at ease, shouldn't it?"

Ignoring the knight's incessant chatter, she moved her steps toward where music was playing.

Before long, she found Gareth enjoying a feast by a fire in front of a lavish tent.

She stopped a short distance away. His attendants were desperately trying to lighten the mood of the sullen-faced Crown Prince as he tipped his goblet. Servants dressed in ridiculous jester costumes performed tricks with daggers, musicians played sticky melodies to suit his taste, and several maids flirted coquettishly while pretending to serve him. As she watched the scene with a sneer, a guard knight blocked her path.

"You should go that way."

Talia quietly looked up at his serious face. He'd guarded her with this same expression at the temple too. As if he were protecting her from danger.

Talia snorted inwardly. As if she would fall for that.

"Mind your own business."

Talia snapped coldly, turning direction and striding toward the tents lining the riverbank.

Gareth wasn't her target to begin with. Striving to appear as natural as possible, Talia scanned the area, searching for Ayla's camp. Soon, she spotted her half-sister, surrounded by a group of maids, enjoying her meal.

She hesitated for a moment.

Knights were scattered around Ayla. To them, she was a person of interest. If she tried to approach carelessly, she would be stopped immediately.

She nervously bit her lip.

How could she approach her half-sister without arousing suspicion?

Lost in this dilemma, the guard knight who had been chattering incessantly suddenly fell silent.

Talia glanced up. The man was looking down at her with a questioning gaze. He seemed suspicious of her unusual behavior.

She forced a calm expression and perched on a nearby table. Then, to divert the knight's attention, she blurted out abruptly.

"I'm hungry. Bring me something to eat."

His face brightened instantly, as if delighted by the request. He was an absurdly simple man.

"Please wait just a moment! I'll have it ready in a flash."

Once the annoying watcher vanished, Talia rolled her eyes from beneath her deeply pulled hood to observe Ayla's movements again. She was laughing constantly at the maids' jokes.

Could she really cut the throat of that insufferable woman?

Her mouth went dry. Perhaps before she could even attempt it, the knight would sense something amiss and subdue her. Then it wouldn't pass as a mere prank.

Fingering the blade tucked in her pocket, she agonized over whether this truly warranted sacrificing her life.

Even if Ayla vanished from this world, it wouldn't mean she would get her hands on Varkas. He'd live his life as always, and she'd vanish like dew on the executioner's block. The only thing this foolish act could bring was a miserable death.

'Still…………….'

Would watching Varkas become Ayla's husband truly be preferable to death?

While Ayla, now Duchess of Shiokan, bore and raised his heir, Talia herself would wither away in excruciating agony.

Perhaps she would be forced to marry some man chosen by Senevere. If that happened, unable to endure the filthy, vile hands of a filthy, vile man, she would hang herself. No, she would certainly do so.

Whether she died this way or that, her body would die in the end. Perhaps it would be better to end it cleanly today, taking Ayla as her companion.

Once her resolve finally hardened, Talia rose from her seat. She tried to approach Ayla as naturally as possible, but suddenly, a familiar figure caught her eye.

'That woman is………'