TFM 77

Chapter 77

***

Lucas looked utterly exasperated.

Ever since hearing the news of Varkas’s marriage, his younger sister seemed to have completely lost her mind.

Raina, who harbored a secret admiration for the relationship between Ayla and Varkas, had quickly concocted a clumsy little romance in her head. And in that story, Talia Roem Guirta seemed to appear as the ultimate villain who tore apart a pair of star-crossed lovers.

Her eyes burned with determination, just as they had when she first set out to hunt the manticore, chasing after the mounted warriors.

“Just you wait. I’ll make sure that woman leaves here of her own accord. We’re going to rescue our big brother from that witch of the Taren family!”

What on earth had gotten into her head that she thought Varkas Raedgo Shiokan looked like someone who needed help?

Sometimes he just wanted to crack open her skull and take a look inside.

He swallowed a sigh and picked up the coat draped over the back of his chair.

“Well, go ahead and give it your best shot.”

“You’re just going to sneak off on your own, are you?”

“Didn’t you see our brother wrapping that woman up tight and taking her away earlier? I have no desire to fall out of favor with His Highness the future Grand Duke over some pointless nonsense.”

“That’s all part of that woman’s cunning scheme! Haven’t you heard the rumors that Taren women use evil magic to steal men’s souls?”

Raina was foaming at the mouth.

“She must have been pretending to be weak to elicit sympathy! Our brother just couldn’t bear to turn a blind eye to that!”

Lucas shook his head. There was no point in trying to reason with Raina when she was in that state.

As he let out a deep sigh and started toward the door, Raina shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Where are you going!”

“I’m going to ride a horse! I’m so frustrated, I need to get some fresh air.”

“No! Don’t you know there’s a welcome banquet for our brother coming up soon?”

He ignored her and walked out of the room.

The central hall was bustling with servants moving luggage.

Workers with pale complexions—who appeared to be from the central region—stacked large trunks like a mountain in one corner of the spacious hall, while the servants of Raedgo Castle opened the boxes and recorded their contents. Even at a glance, the treasures were enough to make one’s eyes pop.

‘So the rumors about their extravagance are true.’

He scanned the clothes and various trinkets filling the chests, then exited through the back door.

Just as he was about to head to the stables, he noticed the warriors of the Wolfram Lancer Corps—who had left to assist Varkas—swarming around the training ground in the backyard.

Spotting a familiar face among them, Lucas immediately turned around.

“Tyron!”

A man wearing nothing but a loose tunic, who had been gulping down wine, turned to look at him over his shoulder.

“Ah, it’s the second young master.”

He wiped his wet lips and spoke in his characteristic drawl.

“Have you been well?”

“I’ve been so well it’s boring.”

Lucas plopped down on the steps surrounding the training ground, snatched the man’s wine bottle, and downed it in one gulp.

“How are things in the capital?”

“Chaotic, as expected.”

Seemingly unfazed by Lucas’s rude behavior, the man shrugged nonchalantly and continued with a calm expression.

“It seems this marriage has unsettled not only the Marquis of Oristein but also the majority of the conservative nobility. Lord Shiokan had quite a hard time keeping them in check.”

“What about the First Princess and the Crown Prince?”

“I didn’t even get to meet Her Highness the First Princess. I heard she’s been holed up in her room. It’s understandable. With the wedding just around the corner, she was left with a broken engagement... She probably won’t make an appearance at any official events until a new suitor is found. And as for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince...”

As if searching for the right words, Tyron crossed his arms over his chest and furrowed his brow.

“Although he’s seething with rage, he’s actually taking the situation surprisingly calmly. He must have decided that it would be more beneficial for him to pretend to agree to this marriage and solidify his ties rather than completely severing relations with Lord Shiokan.”

Surprised by this unexpected remark, Lucas tilted his head.

“That’s surprising. I thought he’d be ready to go to war with the East just to make us pay for betraying his sister… I mean, the rumors say he’ll stop at nothing when it comes to the First Princess.”

As Lucas furrowed his brow, recalling the rough demeanor of the Crown Prince he’d met during a visit to the capital a few years ago, Tyron burst out laughing.

“Even a pig will play with an abacus when faced with power. It’s true that the Crown Prince cares deeply for his sister, but surely not more than the imperial throne. In fact, he seemed more worried about his own power base being shaken than the humiliation the First Princess suffered.”

Lucas frowned.

Although he, too, had been educated at the capital’s academy for several years, he could never quite adapt to the values of the central region’s nobility.

In the East, the bonds between blood relatives were much stronger.

Even though she was an annoying younger sister, if Raina had been jilted, they would have gone to war to avenge that humiliation.

Suddenly, he felt a pang of sympathy for the First Princess.

She had been betrayed not only by her fiancé but also by the brother she had trusted.

Perhaps Raina was right. Could it be that women with Taren blood possess a dangerous magic that makes men forsake even their gods?

He recalled the deep blue eyes hidden beneath her hood.

Those eyes, shimmering with a faint warmth, were like living, breathing jewels.

No. Even the finest lapis lazuli could not compare to them.

His attempt to remove the hood was a purely unconscious action. The moment their eyes met, his hand moved of its own accord.

He asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

“What kind of person is the Second Princess?”

A deep furrow formed between the man’s brows.

He paused for a moment before answering.

“I’ve only spoken with her once, so I don’t know her well. However, it’s clear she’s not your average person, just as the rumors say.”

“More so than Raina?”

“I wouldn’t dare say she’s more so than the young lady.”

He said it jokingly. But perhaps he wasn’t entirely convinced himself, for a faint crease formed at the corner of his eye.

Lucas felt his curiosity swelling even further.

What kind of person could make this slick, slippery man frown like that?

“What about her looks? Is she really that pretty?”

At the sudden question, the man, who had been reaching for the bottle again, paused and shot him a probing glance.

For some reason, he felt a pang of guilt.

He pretended to be busy, scraping the floor with the heel of his shoe.

The man, who had been quietly observing him, downed the last sip of liquor in his mouth and muttered indifferently.

“Enough to cause trouble.”

Then, with a pensive expression, he added meaningfully.

“That’s why Lord Shiokan keeps her so tightly hidden, isn’t it?”

***

When she opened her eyes, deep darkness had settled all around her.

Talia gasped for breath, clutching her throat. It felt as if someone were choking her.

Scratching at her skin to pry away the shapeless fingers, Talia crawled to the head of the bed and pulled the cord attached to the bell.

A moment later, she heard the sound of the door opening.

Talia turned her head.

As a familiar silhouette came into view, the tightness in her chest suddenly eased. It seemed her body had recognized him before her mind had.

“Did you have a leg cramp?”

Varkas, who had lit a lamp by her bedside, leaned over and asked.

Talia took a deep breath and shook her head from side to side.

“I just called for a maid because I was thirsty.”

His eyes narrowed. He clearly didn’t believe her.

Varkas, who was checking her forehead for a fever with one hand, gave a curt order to the maids who had just arrived.

“Go get some medicine from the healer.”

Then he personally poured water into a cup and handed it to her.

She felt a momentary surge of irritation at his blatant disregard for her words, but grateful that he had rushed over, she accepted the cup without complaint.

As she took a sip of the cold water, the fog in her head cleared considerably.

Setting the cup down, she looked him over with eyes now free of fever.

Varkas wore a loose coat—the kind local men wore—casually draped over a tight-fitting tunic.

Seeing his unfamiliar attire, she felt a sudden flutter in her stomach.

She stole a glance at the outline of his chest, clearly visible through the opening in his coat, then looked down with an uncomfortable expression.

“What’s with that outfit? It’s weird.”

“……It’s traditional Eastern attire.”

“Don’t wear that again. It doesn’t suit you.”

In fact, it suited him incredibly well.

Seeing the man who always dressed with the precision of a sword now wearing such a loose-fitting outfit—one that looked as if it might come undone at any moment—seemed somewhat provocative.

For some reason, it bothered her.

She said firmly,

“It looks incredibly undignified. If you go around dressed like that, the nobles will look down on you. So please, don’t wear it.”

Varkas, who had been quietly looking down at her face, slowly nodded.

“I understand.”

***

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