Chapter 53
***
As Varkas handed the priest the bundle of parchment bearing the names of the deceased, he turned his head and looked at her. Talia quickly averted her gaze.
Seeing her own figure laid bare under the summer sun, she felt all the more shabby and could not bring herself to hold her head high.
“It seems Her Royal Highness the Second Princess requires urgent medical attention, so please omit the formalities of entering the palace.”
The mage of the Taren family, who had stopped before Varkas, spoke politely.
When no immediate reply came, Talia raised her eyes again. Varkas, with a faint furrow between his brows, was staring intently at her face.
Did it seem strange to him that a woman who used to throw a fit at the slightest touch from another was now standing so quietly?
Varkas, who had been dissecting her pale, frightened face with narrowed eyes, slowly lowered his gaze.
His cold stare lingered briefly on her back and the hands wrapped around her knees before drifting down to her calves, which hung limply beneath her skirt. As if he had spotted the dark red stain on the bandage, the crease between his brows deepened.
An immediate, accusatory glare shot toward the mages of the Taren family.
As if ignoring it, the mage added softly.
“His Majesty will surely understand why the Second Princess is heading straight to her quarters.”
“Yes. Go ahead and take her away.”
Before he could speak, a clear voice suddenly answered in his place.
Talia turned her gaze toward the source of the sound and saw Ayla leading a group of maids across the chaotic courtyard; her expression hardened.
Ayla stood beside Varkas and looked down at her with a look of pity.
“She’s endured a grueling journey while still unwell, so it would be best for her to receive treatment and rest as soon as possible.”
Talia clenched her teeth. A wave of humiliation washed over her at that lukewarm, pitying gaze. If she hadn’t been in a state where she couldn’t even move a finger, she would have ruthlessly gouged out those eyes.
Whether she sensed the rage boiling within her or not, Ayla, wearing a gentle smile, placed her hand on Varkas’s forearm.
“I’ll make sure to speak well of you to His Majesty.”
Then, turning gracefully, she urged Varkas on.
“Now, let’s go inside. His Majesty is waiting for us.”
Only then did the man, who had been standing motionless, slowly begin to move his legs. Talia, who had been lingering with her gaze on his receding figure, soon lowered her eyelids.
The mages passed through the main palace and entered a vast garden overgrown with flowers. Soon, a magnificently decorated, grand structure engulfed her.
Talia felt as though she were being sucked into the bowels of a gigantic monster.
In the blink of an eye, the mages crossed the marble hall, climbed the stairs, and stepped into Senevere’s study. After passing three or four large bookshelves lined with hundreds of volumes, a secret passage hidden between the columns came into view. The mages entered it as if they were familiar with the way.
Soon, Senevere’s laboratory came into view.
Talia frowned at the heady scent of potent ointments and various herbs that filled the air.
“Lay her down over here.”
A mage who had crossed the laboratory in a few long strides flung open a door situated next to a display case.
She had visited this place many times, but had never once set foot inside this room. The man who had been carrying her set her down on the bed placed in the center of the room.
Talia looked around with a gaze filled with anxiety.
The neatly organized room was filled with strange-looking tools she had never seen before in her life.
After glancing at them, she turned her eyes back to the two mages. They were laying out equipment on the table whose purpose she couldn’t fathom.
Was this how a calf felt upon entering a slaughterhouse? Cold sweat soaked the back of her neck. If she hadn’t been under a spell, she would have screamed at the top of her lungs.
“First, I’ll examine your wounds.”
One of the mages said as he took his place near her legs.
Talia stiffened as she felt the hem of her skirt being lifted.
The man, who had unwrapped the bandage with a matter-of-fact touch, clicked his tongue lightly.
“It’s worse than I thought.”
He added as he carefully palpated her knee with his ice-cold hands.
“It seems the botched bone setting is actually the problem. If we let the wound heal like this, the nerves will become numb, and you’ll never be able to use your leg again.”
“Anyway, the clumsy work of human mages…”
The mage muttered under his breath and picked up a small knife from the table.
“What can I do? I’ll have to set it again.”
In that instant, a rough sob burst from her constricted throat.
Only then did the mage, noticing her deathly pale face, lower the cloth draped over his lower face and lift the corners of his mouth.
“There’s no need to worry so much.”
It seemed like an attempt to reassure her, but Talia felt her blood run cold instead. It looked less like a human smile and more like a fish mimicking a human expression.
The man continued to babble.
“It’ll be hard to restore you to exactly the same condition as before, but at least I’ll make sure you have no trouble walking.”
She struggled to move her lips.
Stop.
If I can’t go back to the way I was, there’s no reason to endure this process.
She wanted to scream it out, but only a rough sob escaped her lips.
The man lifted the gauze again and gave instructions.
“We should burn some sleep-inducing herbs.”
The mage, who had been examining the equipment on the table, placed a small brazier by her head and set fire to a bundle of thoroughly dried herbs.
Talia immediately held her breath. But she couldn’t last long. Unable to withstand the suffocating sensation, she inhaled the smoke, and in an instant, her vision grew hazy.
Straining her eyes to try to clear the hazy veil, Talia soon fell into a sleep as if fainting.
***
Raindrops fell onto the lake.
She realized she was dreaming. A landscape from a long-forgotten memory was unfolding before her eyes.
Fourteen-year-old Talia was crouched beneath a massive, ancient tree, staring at the gray, rain-lashed surface of the lake as if it were her sworn enemy.
Beside her, Varkas approached, soaked through by the rain.
“Is hide-and-seek over now?”
She glared at him with a fierce look.
He must have scoured every corner of the palace grounds, for his once immaculate attire and hairstyle were now a complete mess. Yet Talia’s mood did not improve in the slightest.
She reached out, grabbed a handful of soggy mud, and hurled it at him.
“Get lost! I can’t stand the sight of you!”
An ugly stain appeared on his velvet uniform, adorned with elaborate embroidery, but Varkas didn’t bat an eye.
His impassive reaction only made her angrier. Talia kept grabbing more mud and hurling them at him.
“Just get out of here! Go to Ayla or something!”
“I’d love nothing more than that.”
Varkas let out a short sigh, knelt on one knee beside her, and continued.
“But I’m bound to you until Your Highness turns sixteen.”
Talia glared at him, her face flushed with emotion.
It felt so miserable she thought she might cry. To hide it, she tightened her eyes and twisted the corners of her mouth into a deliberately spiteful smile.
“The thought of having to look at your face for another two whole years is absolutely horrifying. Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up.”
“….”
“I hate you more than anything in the world. You give me the creeps. You make me sick. You’re disgusting.”
“Are you done?”
“I’m not done. You smell like a horse.”
His eyebrows rose slightly.
Talia flinched and lowered her gaze. Having spent his childhood in a monastery, Varkas was somewhat obsessive about cleanliness.
He always gave off a refreshing scent of soap. He was surely well aware of this himself, so he must have known that her criticism was little more than nitpicking.
But instead of pointing that out, Varkas dropped the coat he was holding in one hand onto her shoulders with a thud and stood up straight.
“I’ll hear the rest of your complaints at the palace. Please get up now. Your lips have turned purple.”
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