TFM 67

Chapter 67

***

He practically carried her as they crossed the courtyard.

Talia pursed her lips, which stung from being bitten so hard.

Are you really planning to marry me like this? Really?

She opened her mouth to ask, but then closed it again.

He was right. Perhaps they had already gone too far to turn back.

She lowered her gaze and looked around at the guests filling the nave.

Countless faces filled her eyes, where the tears had not yet dried. The Empress’s inner circle, high-ranking officials, and nobles from various distinguished families... influential figures she knew well were watching them in silence.

She thought she understood why Varkas hadn’t been able to leave the ceremony and abandon her.

No matter how much of a heir to the Grand Lord he was, he couldn’t possibly ruin a wedding hosted by the Emperor in front of so many nobles.

“The ceremony will begin shortly. Please come to the waiting area, bride and groom.”

As they reached the crossroads, a priest who had been waiting there cautiously addressed them.

Varkas immediately followed the priest toward the waiting area situated beside the altar.

Talia staggered along behind him, her eyes darting restlessly.

Through her hazy, blurred vision, faces flashed by as if they were watching an intriguing play. Those ashen, cold faces seemed to be mocking her all at once.

“Are your legs hurting?”

Noticing her body had stiffened, Varkas cupped her chin with one hand and asked.

Talia stared at him blankly. Varkas gently rubbed her wet eyelids with his thumb. His touch was so gentle that she began to wonder if all of this might be an illusion created by the sleep potion.

He gazed intently into her eyes and whispered in a low voice.

“Please bear with it just a little longer. I’ll make sure you can rest as soon as the ceremony is over.”

His tone, as if coaxing a child, made her throat tighten.

This man is only doing this because he’s worried I might cause a scene in front of all these people.

He’s just trying to placate me so I don’t throw a tantrum.

As she repeated this to herself, desperately trying to calm her racing heart, a voice she never expected to hear here rang in her ears.

“This is unbearable. Anyone watching would think this is a marriage of love.”

Talia, who had flinched and stiffened her shoulders, slowly turned her head. Gareth, dressed in a red doublet, was leading a group of few bodyguards as he made his way across the congregation.

For a moment, it felt as if the blood in her entire body had frozen.

“Why the long face, little sister? I came to congratulate you.”

Gareth stopped in front of her, twisted the corners of his mouth, and sneered.

Talia looked up at him with eyes filled with terror.

Perhaps it was satisfying to see his half-sister—who had always gnawed at his insides—turn pale as a sheet and unable to utter a word.

A strange smile flitted across Gareth’s rugged face.

He leaned toward her and whispered coldly.

“You’ve earned the title of Grand Duchess with just one leg—you should be smiling from ear to ear.”

Talia glared at him with a stony expression.

Under normal circumstances, she would have left her fingernail marks on that smug face. But in that moment, she couldn’t even open her mouth. Her already foggy mind seemed to have completely shut down at his unexpected appearance.

She stood there, her eyelids trembling as if she were facing a nightmare, when suddenly her head snapped around.

“Your Royal Highness.”

Varkas, who had pulled her head toward him and buried her face against his chest, spoke in a warning tone.

“If you are here as a guest, please observe the proper etiquette. Must you cause a disturbance on the wedding day of an old friend?”

A heavy silence weighed down on her.

With her forehead pressed against his ceremonial robe, Talia swallowed hard.

She couldn’t understand why Varkas was trying to protect her from Gareth.

It was supposed to be the other way around. Wasn’t it his role to protect Gareth and Ayla from the vicious bastard?

“There’s no need to be so sharp. As long as you keep your promise, I’ll keep mine.”

Gareth’s cold voice came from behind her.

Talia wanted to turn her head to see his expression, but the hand pressing down on her head kept her immobilized.

Varkas tightened his grip around her waist and murmured icily.

“If you intend to watch the ceremony, please take your seat.”

She heard the sound of teeth grinding, and then Gareth’s presence faded into the distance. Only then did Varkas release his grip.

Talia craned her neck to watch Gareth’s retreating figure as he made his way to the VIP section.

As soon as he sat down, an elderly man seated right next to him spoke to him. It wasn’t hard to recognize him as the Marquis of Oristein.

Had the two of them exchanged words beforehand?

Talia, who had been squinting, suddenly widened her eyes upon realizing that a significant portion of the audience consisted of conservative nobles who supported the Crown Prince.

What on earth was going on?

As she looked around the chapel with a bewildered expression, a strong hand tugged at her head once more.

“You don’t need to think about anything.”

Icy eyes locked onto hers.

“Once today is over, you’ll never see these faces again. Don’t waste your time looking at them.”

He spoke with such force it felt as though he were etching the words into her mind, then walked toward the altar without a moment’s hesitation.

Talia followed him as if being dragged along, biting her cracked lips.

Varkas did not seem particularly surprised by the current situation. His calm reaction began to gradually untangle the knots in her mind.

Perhaps Gareth had intended to show everyone that this marriage had not caused a rift between him and the Shiokan family.

And Varkas must have agreed with him.

From the start, this marriage had been nothing more than a play orchestrated by the Emperor’s demands, Varkas’s sense of duty, and her thirst for revenge. He was still on Ayla and Gareth’s side.

“His Imperial Majesty and Her Majesty the Empress are making their entrance!”

A moment later, a booming voice rang out from the stairs leading to the dais.

Talia tore her gaze away from Varkas and looked up.

The Emperor and Empress walked elegantly toward the throne situated on the second floor.

They looked like the true protagonists of this stage.

Talia gazed for a moment at the Emperor, who exuded solemn dignity, then turned her eyes to Senevere standing beside him.

As always, she radiated a dazzling brilliance that was almost blinding.

Her deep golden hair, as if cast from molten gold, harmonized perfectly with her exquisite features and her sensual, perfectly curved body…

The beauty Talia had once believed she could one day possess pierced her retinas like needles.

“We will now begin the ceremony.”

As the Emperor and Empress took their respective thrones, the High Priest ascended the altar and proclaimed in a solemn voice.

Led by Varkas, Talia stepped forward toward the priest.

Behind his solemn, wrinkled face, a rain-laden black sky was visible. With dark clouds looming behind him, the priest began to recite a scripture in an ancient language.

It all felt like a ridiculous comedy.

Senevere, wearing an ambiguous smile; the Emperor, looking strangely uncomfortable; the High Priest, spouting formal words of blessing; and the guests, biting back their scoffs as they watched the pretentious ceremony.

“Varkas Raedgo Shiokan, do you swear to take Talia Roem Guirta as your spouse and spend the rest of your life with her?”

Having finished reciting the lengthy biblical passage, the priest finally posed the final question.

Talia moistened her parched lips, her gaze fixed on the floor.

After a few seconds of silence, he answered.

“Yes.”

It was a reply so dry it felt almost indifferent.

The priest posed the same question to her.

“Talia Roem Guirta, do you swear to take Varkas Raedgo Shiokan as your husband and spend the rest of your life with him?”

Talia looked up at the priest’s face with clouded eyes.

She wanted to respond casually, just as Varkas had, but only a rasping breath escaped her, as if someone were choking her.

As her silence dragged on, the hand wrapped around her waist tightened.

Talia turned her head to look at him.

His blue eyes quietly urged her for an answer. As if he had no intention of dragging out this moment, she was pushed by his resolute gaze and managed to utter a single word.

“………………Yes.”

“I hereby declare that, in the name of God and His Imperial Majesty, the two of you are now officially husband and wife.”

The priest, who had delivered the proclamation in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, added one final phrase to conclude the ceremony.

“Now, the two of you, seal your union with a kiss.”