TFM 117

Chapter 117

***

Talia stared coldly at the clothes in her hands.

“When did you become a pimp?”

At those words, spoken with a sneer, the nanny’s face contorted into a hideous grimace.

Talia paid no heed and stepped down from the windowsill, heading toward the bed. But the nanny did not back down.

“The truth is, the two of you didn’t even consummate your marriage properly. Do you know what that means? It means that His Highness the Grand Duke can file for annulment at any time, if he so desires!”

Talia, who had been looking down at the nanny blocking her path with a cold expression, suddenly lifted the wide hem of her dress.

As she threw her sweat-soaked clothes over her head, her twisted legs and pitifully emaciated naked body were revealed.

The nanny immediately lowered her gaze. Seeing this, Talia burst into a dry laugh.

“You can’t even look at me properly, yet you’re telling me to throw myself into a man’s arms with this hideous body?”

“...Still, you have to try.”

The nanny stammered, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor.

“It doesn’t seem like His Highness the Grand Duke is entirely indifferent to you, does it? Just look how devoted he was when you fainted. Even though he’s swamped with the funeral arrangements and the succession to the title, he still makes sure to check on your meals and medicine. I’m sure he wouldn’t refuse if you asked him.”

Talia, who had been letting out soft, deflating snorts, suddenly wiped the smile off her face.

“So, you’re telling me to beg, are you?”

“Don’t be so sarcastic. This is for your own good, too. If you have a child, your standing as Grand Duchess will….”

Her patience vanished in an instant at those transparently calculating words.

Talia roughly swept her hands across the table. The bowls, plates, and porcelain items resting on it spilled onto the floor, filling the room with a shattering sound.

A few shards of glass flew up and pricked the tops of her feet. Paying no heed, she snatched up the candlestick standing beside the fireplace and hurled it against the wall.

“Get out!”

The nanny let out a scream a beat too late and scrambled toward the door.

Talia grabbed the dress the nanny had thrown aside and yanked it from side to side. With a tearing sound, the fabric split in two. She tossed it aside carelessly, walked over to the bed, and pulled the covers over her head.

How long had she been lying there? A gentle voice rang out, accompanied by a cautious knock.

“Your Highness, I heard you injured your foot. I’ve come to tend to the wound.”

Talia didn’t respond. Perhaps taking her silence as consent, she heard the door open, followed by the sound of light footsteps.

"Let me take a look at your wound."

As the woman lifted the blanket, her blood-soaked foot and leg were revealed. The healer who had cast a spell on her took out a clean, new bandage and carefully wrapped her leg.

"How is the pain?"

“…”

"If you need a painkiller..."

“Did Mother ask you to do anything else in particular?”

The woman fell silent at the sudden question.

Talia stared intently at the woman’s stiff expression. After hesitating for a long moment, the woman replied as if confessing.

“......She asked me to keep a close eye on Your Highness the Grand Duchess’s health.”

“So the child can be raised properly?”

As she spat out the words with a sneer, the woman’s lips tightened. Talia, who was watching her with a cynical gaze, turned away and muttered listlessly.

“You can go now.”

“Your Highness.”

Just then, she sensed the woman kneel beside the bed.

Startled by the unfamiliar warmth enveloping the back of her hand, Talia turned her head. The healer looked at her with serious brown eyes and said,

“Your Highness, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Talia blinked.

She should have scoffed at it as presumptuous meddling. What could a mere healer possibly know? Even though she should have snapped at her to cut out the nonsense and mind her own business, she strangely found herself at a loss for words.

"I……………."

Inside her mouth, which had opened unconsciously, her tongue wriggled of its own accord.

I hate this.

I don’t want to show Varkas this pitiful body of mine. I’m sick of being my mother’s stand-in. I don’t want to suffer because of people who will never love me.

She desperately swallowed the words that had risen to the back of her throat.

If she showed weakness, she’d be trampled on. She didn’t want to be hurt by anyone anymore.

Talia ruthlessly pulled her hand away from the healer’s grip.

“Stop with the nonsense and just call the maids.”

The woman, who had been staring at her with a pensive gaze, slowly stood up.

Talia watched the woman step back in silence, then asked impulsively.

“Come to think of it, what did you say your name was?”

The woman’s eyes widened, but she replied in a calm tone.

“My name is Marisen.”

Talia repeated her name to herself, then dismissed the woman with a casual wave of her hand.

A moment later, the maids rushed in to clean up the messy room and, following her instructions, helped her get ready.

Talia chose the most dazzling dress from among the wedding trousseau sent from the imperial palace, put it on, and had her hair neatly braided and adorned with pearls.

After slathering red dye thickly onto her lips, which were crusted with dried blood, she took out a jewelry box.

Inside the velvet box lay a small button engraved with the crest of the Order of Roem, a silvery-blue moonstone, a neatly folded handkerchief, and a ruby brooch.

Talia stared for a long time at these traces of lingering attachment—something she had vowed to let go of thousands of times but could never quite release—then picked up the brooch and pinned it to her left breast.

Standing before the mirror, she saw the reflection of a pale woman who had desperately tried to hide her gauntness.

She asked that woman,

“What are you trying to do?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

After staring intently into her slightly trembling pupils, she dismissed the maids and left the room. Through the hallway window, she could see the sky growing darker by the minute.

Varkas probably hadn’t returned yet.

Ever since the previous duke’s death, he had been spending almost all his time outside the castle. Not only was he attending nearly every religious ceremony hosted by the Eastern Order, but he also seemed to be constantly busy soothing the restless public and reorganizing the military.

“On top of all that, he’s even taken on the burden of cleaning up after Gareth—he’d need ten bodies just to keep up.”

With a wry, bitter smile, Talia walked down the wide staircase through the silent, chilly corridor.

When she reached the Grand Duke’s bedroom—now Varkas’s room—the attendants guarding the doorway widened their eyes in surprise.

Instead of ordering them to open the door, Talia reached out and pulled the doorknob herself.

With a screech, the scene inside the brightly lit, spacious room was revealed.

Spotting a long shadow among them, Talia’s spine stiffened. Varkas, still in his military uniform, was unbuttoning his coat—he must have returned only a short while ago.

“………………What’s the matter?”

The man, who had been carefully scanning her from head to toe over his shoulder, narrowed his eyes and asked. It was a reaction that rendered the hours she’d spent primping and preening utterly meaningless.

Swallowing her disappointment, Talia walked into the room and closed the door behind her.

“I came because I have something I want to talk about.”

Staring at her with an expressionless face, Varkas gestured with his chin toward the chair placed in front of the fireplace.

“Please sit down.”

She moved her stiff legs and sat down in the chair. Meanwhile, Varkas, who had taken off his coat and hung it on the wall, poured her a glass of apple wine and handed it to her.

“I hear your appetite has been waning again lately. Even if I can’t take care of you myself, you mustn’t skip meals—you need to eat well.”

Talia kept her lips tightly pressed together, staring blankly down at her glass.

Watching her with his arms crossed, Varkas broke the lingering silence.

“What is it you wish to say?”

“I…………….”

Talia looked up at him with a bewildered expression.

What should she say? She didn’t even know why she had come to see him.

Submission? Resistance? One thing was clear: she was standing at a crossroads. And she was determined to leave that choice up to him.

Talia steeled her trembling voice.

“Is it true that you oppose Ayla’s marriage?”

As she looked straight up at him as if ready to pick a fight, the corners of Varkas’s lips twisted ever so slightly.

“Is that why you haven’t even met my gaze these past few days?”

He swept the stray strands of hair from his forehead and let out a dry laugh.

“I opposed it solely because of the political risks.”

“But rumors are circulating in the imperial palace that you still harbor feelings for Ayla.”

The more she spoke, the more she felt as if she were turning into a petulant child throwing a tantrum. Shaking off that feeling, she pressed on accusingly.

“Didn’t you say you’d quell the gossip surrounding our marriage? Is spreading such ridiculous rumors what you call ‘quelling the gossip’?”

“It was a matter concerning the safety of both of you.”

He said this, showing signs of weariness.

“My priority was to stop His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince before he took any rash action. I have a duty to protect those two, you see.”

As he spoke, his tone grew slightly harsher.

Talia looked up at him with a stern expression.

Varkas exhaled deeply, bowed slightly before her, and added in a much softer tone.

“I intend to propose a more suitable match for the First Princess in the near future. Once that happens, the rumors will naturally die down.”

Talia, who had been quietly looking down at him, let out a hollow laugh.

Did this man even realize what he was saying?

As she watched Varkas—who claimed he would protect Ayla yet spoke so casually about plunging a knife into her chest—a sense of despair welled up within her, ironically enough.

Mother was right. When it came to emotions, this man was as blind as a bat.

For him, matters of the heart were not even worth considering. All that mattered to Varkas was fulfilling his duties.

And at the very top of that long list of responsibilities was likely the protection of the twins.

As the Grand Duchess, she herself might have risen to a position of considerable importance. But she would never be his top priority.

His duties as an imperial retainer. And his duties as the head of a clan. Nothing could take precedence over those.

“You are… truly, truly a loyal person.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed to have realized that it was not a compliment.

Talia wiped the smile from her face. As her mind gradually grew cold and clear, she saw exactly what she had to do.

When Gareth, now Emperor, demanded her life—even at the cost of war with the East—it was obvious what choice Varkas would make.

The question was whether she could accept that situation without resistance.

She pictured her own death in her mind. The image of herself dying miserably soon transformed into the face of the former Grand Duke. That man had feared death and what would follow it.

What about me?

The answer came immediately.

I’m afraid of death.

I struggled so fiercely precisely because I was so afraid. I knew full well that I was the only one who could protect myself.

It’s the same this time. I must survive on my own.

This isn’t about obeying Mother at all. I’ve decided to fight simply because I want to live, too.

Talia, who had been piling up countless excuses in her head, finally raised her head and looked him straight in the eye.

“You’re saying you just fulfilled your duty, right?”

His cold gaze fixed on her without the slightest flicker. As if engraving each word into those icy eyes, she said,

“I’ll demand that you fulfill your duties as my husband, too.”

A crack finally appeared in his face, which had been utterly devoid of emotion. As if forcing her way through that crack, she blurted out bluntly,

“Tonight, I’m coming to your bed.”