TFM 81

Chapter 81

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"I’m sorry. I was thoughtless."

The steward immediately bowed his head. Varkas entered his bedroom without a word.

One of his servants quickly followed him. With a casual wave of his hand, Varkas dismissed the man, then sat down on a chair. He removed his armor and clothes himself, neatly folding them, before stepping into the bathwater the servants had prepared in advance.

Having ridden all day, his body must have been thick with dust and the smell of horses.

After washing every inch of his body in the clear water, he took out a deep navy doublet and woolen trousers and put them on. When he stood before the mirror wearing boots that reached up to his shins, a neatly tailored silhouette caught his eye.

His physique, honed by years of training, was perfectly conditioned to maintain a flawless posture at all times.

He gazed for a moment at the man who looked as if he had been cast from the imperial mold, then picked up his coat and left the room.

Just as he was about to head toward the hall, a woman descending the stairs caught his eye. Recognizing her as the healer dispatched by the imperial palace, Varkas immediately called out to her.

“Why are you coming down from upstairs?”

The woman hurriedly bowed her head.

“Her Royal Highness the Princess summoned me….”

He furrowed his brow. He had expected Talia not to heed his words, but seeing it confirmed with his own eyes stirred a faint irritation within him.

He asked in a stiff tone.

“How is Her Highness feeling?”

“Perhaps thanks to a full day’s rest, she looked better than usual. Her fever has completely subsided as well. However, the pain in her legs seems to persist……….”

“Did you burn another sleep potion?”

Perhaps sensing the reproach in his tone, the healer’s face visibly stiffened. The woman spoke as if making an excuse.

“Her Highness suffers from severe chronic pain. Using the sleep incense is the best course of action to alleviate that suffering.”

He scrutinized the woman’s face with a sharp gaze.

Could he really trust the healer the Empress had assigned? She was a woman who treated her daughter like a pawn. He had no idea what schemes she might be plotting behind his back.

He scrutinized her face as if trying to gauge her true intentions, then gave a nod as if to signal she could leave.

The woman bowed her head and descended the stairs at a pace that was neither too fast nor too slow.

Varkas, who had been watching her retreating figure intently, soon headed toward Talia’s bedroom.

When he knocked on the tightly closed door, a voice that sounded slightly muffled drifted out.

“Come in.”

The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, a cool breeze brushed against his cheek. He furrowed his brow. Contrary to his expectation that the room would be filled with thick smoke, the spacious bedroom was filled only with a faint scent of flowers and the smell of dry grass.

He calmed his churning stomach and carefully scanned the cluttered room.

Eventually, he spotted a small shadow sitting on the windowsill.

Just as he was about to call her name, Varkas suddenly clamped his mouth shut. He couldn’t tell what had silenced him.

The woman, who had been basking in the pouring sunset light, turned her head toward him. As their eyes met, an inexplicable anxiety grew even stronger.

He pulled at the collar of his doublet and strode forward toward her. After firmly locking the wide-open window, he pressed the back of his hand against her pale, glowing cheek and felt a chill as cold as ice.

“How long have you been standing there like that?”

“Me? What?”

“I mean, how long have you been out in the cold wind?”

Her eyes narrowed. As a pout filled her small face, she looked about two years younger than her actual age.

She brushed his hand away and said curtly,

“I don’t know. Who cares?”

“What if you get a fever again?”

“So what if I do?”

He frowned. Whenever he spoke with this woman, a strange impulse reared its head. He felt a desire to make her listen to him, even if it meant using brute force, and at the same time, a peculiar urge to coax her gently into compliance.

As if to shake off that strange feeling, he took a step back. Once he put some distance between them, she seemed to relax; he could see the tension drain from her stiff shoulders.

Talia, who had been hugging her knees and eyeing him up and down, continued in a sullen tone.

“More importantly, why are you dressed like that?”

“Some guests are coming over, so I’m planning a small banquet.”

“Guests?”

“Local lords from the East. I hear they’ve come to make a good impression on me.”

“Hmm……………….”

She made a strange sound as she fiddled with the hem of his coat. He quietly looked down at her hand.

The woman, who had been tugging at his coat for quite some time, opened her mouth hesitantly.

“Don’t I have to attend too?”

He raised his gaze again. A face of such beauty it felt almost surreal filled his field of vision.

She was a woman who stirred others’ emotions in a strange way. Wasn’t she the kind who could make even him—a man whose senses were usually in check—feel a peculiar urge? He could tell without even seeing it what kind of chaos she would cause here.

He paused for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

He couldn’t keep her hidden forever, but at least until he had firmly secured control of the East, he wanted to avoid drawing attention to her as much as possible.

“There’s no need for that. I’ll explain everything to the nobles myself, so Your Highness should rest for the time being.”

“......You’re saying that because you’re embarrassed, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, her voice turned sharp. Varkas, who was about to turn toward the door, paused and looked down at her.

She bit her lip, which was crusted with dried blood, and said with a sneer.

“Do you already regret taking a cripple as your wife?”

He clenched his fists tightly. If he didn’t, he felt as though he might do something terrible. Taking a deep breath, Varkas looked down at her with a cold gaze, waiting for his sharp emotions to subside. At that moment, the hostility in her eyes grew even more pronounced. Instantly, the words he had been holding back finally scraped their way up his throat.

“Sometimes I get confused. I don’t know if what you say is meant to hurt me, or if it’s meant to hurt yourself……….”

Her lips tightened as if she were at a loss for words.

He silently gazed down at her face, thick with distrust, then let out a faint sigh and turned away.

“I’ll have the maid come, so please get ready. If you really want to attend, I won’t stop you.”

“Forget it.”

Talia leaped down from the windowsill and snapped coldly.

“If I stay with you any longer, I’ll start boiling over again.”

With that, she staggered over to the bed and flung herself onto the sheets. Varkas watched her intently for a moment before leaving the room.

As he descended the stairs and stepped into the grand banquet hall, hundreds of eyes turned toward him.

They all rose from their seats at once.

“You have arrived, Young Master.”

One of his retainers, seated near the entrance, bowed respectfully.

He acknowledged the greeting with a nod and slowly made his way across the hall.

High-ranking nobles in lavish attire and his own relatives occupied the central table in the banquet hall, while men dressed in far simpler attire were seated around them.

As he passed them and reached the head of the table, the faint melody that had been playing in the hall abruptly ceased. He surveyed the assembly carefully before offering a ceremonial greeting.

“Thank you for coming such a long way. I hope you’ll forgive us if our hospitality falls short.”

“Fall short? This is the finest wine I’ve ever tasted in my life!”

One of the men seated around the long table shouted heartily.

Varkas turned his gaze toward him. Embroidered on the man’s dazzlingly ornate coat was the emblem of a black bear. It was the symbol of the Gutvan family, which ruled the southeastern region.

The man raised his wine glass high and continued in a provocative tone.

“Indeed, a gift bestowed by His Imperial Majesty is something else. I’m not sure if scoundrels like us dare even taste it. Is this not the reward the Young Lord received for a lifetime of devotion?”

The man, speaking in a theatrical tone, gulped down the wine and slammed his glass down with a loud clang.

“When I think of the sweat and tears the Young Master  shed, this fine wine tastes bitter.”

A heavy silence settled over the hall.

Varkas leaned back in his chair and twisted the corners of his mouth.

“It seems you’ve come here looking for a fight.”

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