TFM 68

Chapter 68

***

Talia picked at a hangnail on her fingernail.

A bead of sweat formed on her forehead and slowly trickled down her temple.

Varkas grabbed her shoulder and gently pulled her closer. She could feel his long, strong fingers cupping one of her cheeks.

Talia couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes and instead fixed her gaze on the tip of his chin. Immediately, Varkas’s face lowered.

His lips—surprisingly warm and soft—gently brushed against the corner of her mouth before pulling away.

It was a kiss as light as a breeze. Merely the bare minimum of contact required by formality.

That fleeting touch, barely worthy of being called a kiss, felt as though it were tearing her heart to shreds.

“This marks the conclusion of all ceremonies.”

With the priest’s final declaration, a perfunctory round of applause rang out.

Talia looked up at him with trembling eyes. His expressionless face, utterly inscrutable, was staring intently at her.

What on earth was he looking at so intently?

Varkas, who had been scrutinizing her with that relentless gaze, soon turned toward the audience. Talia finally exhaled the breath she had been holding.

With his arm wrapped around her waist, he made his way through the crowd of guests.

Ghostly faces flashed by between their slow, deliberate steps.

Gareth, his eyes gleaming eerily; the Emperor, looking troubled; Senevere, wearing a satisfied smile…… Countless shadows flowed past like a river, and soon the dark sky, scattering rain, came into view.

“Bring me my cloak.”

Varkas, who had stopped at the chapel entrance, spoke to the knight waiting there.

The knight immediately held out the outer garment draped over his arm.

Varkas draped it over her shoulders, then bent slightly and gently lifted her with one arm.

Talia hurriedly wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling backward. The scent of fragrant soap wafted from his soft hair, brushing against her nose.

With one hand gently wrapped around her back, he began to walk slowly through the rain.

Talia watched as soft, silvery raindrops blanketed his face in white, then turned her gaze toward the garden, now shrouded in a gloomy shadow.

“………………Where are we going?”

“I’ve arranged temporary lodgings outside the palace.”

He replied as he walked leisurely.

“We plan to stay there until we depart for the East.”

Talia looked confused.

Was this really how a wedding was supposed to end?

Senevere must surely have prepared a grand wedding reception. Hadn’t the entire palace been bustling for days on end, decorating the banquet hall and preparing the food?

There must be guests who came specifically to see them. Was it really all right to leave everything behind and just walk away like this?

“We’ve done what we needed to do. There’s no reason for us to remain here as a spectacle any longer.”

A voice laced with coldness snapped her back to reality.

He was right.

This marriage was nothing more than a ridiculous topic of gossip.

A crippled illegitimate princess, a bride who had been swapped at the altar, and a pitiful groom who had gone from being the envy of all to an object of pity overnight...

She didn’t need to hear the whispers about them to know what people were saying.

There was no reason for Varkas to endure such humiliation. No matter how great the Emperor might be, he surely couldn’t force such a sacrifice upon a man destined to rule the East.

He walked past the muddy road and stopped in front of a carriage bearing the Shiokan family crest. A servant sitting on the carriage step ran over in a single bound and opened the door for him.

Varkas stepped inside and set her down on the seat covered with thick cushions

Talia stared at Varkas, who had become completely soaked in an instant, with a look of bewilderment.

Sitting across from her, Varkas loosened the collar of his formal robe, which was choking him, and exhaled a long breath tinged with fatigue.

Drops of water clinging to his hair trickled down his smooth forehead and gathered at the corners of his eyes. His gaze, damp yet feeling dry, fixed itself directly on her.

“How is your leg?”

Talia’s lips twitched.

She was annoyed by his excessive concern for her leg.

Gareth’s mocking voice, saying she’d taken the seat next to him with just one leg, echoed in her ears.

She chewed on the soft flesh inside her mouth.

I know.

I know. So why do you keep bringing it up?

“They’re perfectly fine and attached, so stop worrying about them.”

When she snapped at him irritably, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Talia turned her head toward the window to avoid that piercing gaze. But a wet finger immediately turned her head back.

“I asked if you’re in pain.”

Her shoulders stiffened for a moment at his harsh tone, but Talia roughly pushed his hand away.

“Does it make you feel better if I say I’m fine?”

“…”

“But what am I supposed to do? Not a single day has gone by since that day without pain.”

Staring intently at his mask-like face, she spat out the words like a wasp stinging with its stingers.

“So stop rubbing salt in the wound with pointless questions. It’s annoying.”

The warm, soft lips that had touched her closed coldly.

She had silenced him with harsh words, yet it was she herself who felt her throat tightening at his silence. Talia nervously bit her parched lips.

Still, indifference was better than pity. The lukewarm kindness that had poured in ever since her leg had become like this was more dreadful than anything else.

To hide her anxiety, Talia snapped at him deliberately.

“Why aren’t we leaving? Are you going to keep me waiting here all night?”

Varkas, who had been staring at her blankly, turned and tapped lightly on the side of the carriage.

A moment later, the sound of reins being cracked echoed, and the carriage began to move forward slowly.

Through the fogged-up window, Talia gazed out at the rain-soaked garden. The unfamiliar scenery—a place that had never once felt like home to her—slid swiftly past the curtain of mist.

As she stared blankly at the view, her body suddenly lifted, and a soft seat pressed against her back.

Talia looked up, her face full of surprise.

Varkas, who had laid her down on the spacious carriage seat, reached behind the backrest and pulled out a cloak embroidered with the crest of the Order of the Knights of Roem, draping it over her.

“We have a long way to go. Try to get some rest in the meantime.”

Talia reached out to toss it aside. But Varkas was a step faster.

He grabbed her hand and pressed it down onto the seat. Then, looking down at her eyes—still dazed from the drug’s lingering effects—he issued a warning in the rough tone he’d occasionally used back in his teens.

“Stop being stubborn and go to sleep. Don’t keep your eyes open and make me anxious.”

Talia, who had flinched at the threatening tone, soon pulled his cloak up over her nose. Varkas, who had been quietly watching her, let out a weary sigh and slumped back into the seat across from her.

For some reason, she felt like crying.

Talia buried her face in the hem of his cloak, which was imbued with his scent, and closed her eyes.

***

It seemed she had dozed off for a moment.

Realizing that the jolted swaying of the carriage had suddenly stopped, Talia cupped her throbbing forehead with one hand and rubbed her dry, heavy eyes.

When she finally managed to open her eyes, the empty interior of the carriage filled her vision. Blinking blankly, Talia sat up with a start. As she scanned the room with a terrified expression, searching for Varkas, a rough voice mixed with the clanging of metal came from outside.

“What do you intend to do with the First Princess (Ayla)?”

Talia stiffened her shoulders before pressing herself tightly against the window. Through the rain-streaked glass, she could see the evening sky, where the rain had already stopped. Beneath that reddish sky stood a massive, rough-hewn stone building and a dozen or so men.

It wasn’t hard to spot Varkas among them. The man, standing with his back to the sunset, spoke dryly.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Do you really intend to abandon her like this….”

“That’s a strange thing to say.”

A sharp sneer cut through the damp, humid air.

“Wasn’t our engagement in the first place meant to keep the Empress in check?”

“…”

“Marriage isn’t the only way to protect the two of them.”

“What do you mean………….”

Confusion crept into the man’s voice. However, Varkas seemed to have no intention of explaining further.

As if finding him a nuisance, he cut the knight off.

“Was I supposed to be the one being interrogated by you?”

“I’m—I’m sorry. I overstepped my bounds.”

The man hurriedly bowed his head.

Varkas, who had been looking down at him with a cold gaze, soon spoke in a flat tone.

“Nothing changes. Continue monitoring the Empress’s movements as you have been doing. And if His Royal Highness the Crown Prince shows any signs of acting recklessly, report it to me immediately.”

“Understood.”

As if that concluded the conversation, Varkas turned away.

Talia hurriedly laid her head on the seat. But before she could pull her cloak over her head and pretend to be asleep, the carriage door opened and Varkas appeared.

Talia looked up at him with frozen eyes.