Chapter 107
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 107
Barkas, who had been tracking her movements through the window, stepped out into the hallway and headed downstairs. As he exited through the back door, his view was momentarily obscured by a dense thicket of shrubs.
Pushing through them with hurried strides, Barkas came to a sudden halt when he spotted Thalia. She was sitting beneath a red barberry bush.
The sight of her sitting on the bare ground, clad in nothing but a thin robe, made his throat sting as if he had swallowed shards of glass. He forced down the sharp words rising within him and strode toward her.
“What are you doing in a place like this?”
The woman, who had been staring blankly at the flower bed, lifted her head. Her unfocused eyes wandered through the air before finally settling on him. Barkas’s expression darkened.
“Have you been burning sleeping incense again?”
“...I haven’t. I’m just a little tired.”
Thalia replied in a listless voice, her gaze dropping back to the flower bed.
Following her line of sight, Barkas’s face hardened. He discovered a bird lying limp among the tall blades of grass. Its entrails, swarming with ants and maggots, were visible through a jagged gash in its belly—likely the work of a stray cat.
In the past, she was a woman who would have had a fit at the mere sight of a bug. She had loathed anything dirty to the point of obsession and loved beautiful things so much it had invited accusations of extravagance. Yet, at some point, she had begun to fixate on the hideous. This strange transformation grated on his nerves.
He pulled her to her feet with a somewhat rough touch.
“If you’re tired, you should be resting in your room. Why are you acting like this?”
“...I felt suffocated, so I came out for some air. It was strangely hot inside the room,” Thalia murmured, as if offering an excuse.
Barkas narrowed his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. He felt no fever. If anything, her skin was cool, chilled by the biting wind against her thin clothing.
Letting out a small sigh, Barkas took off his coat and draped it over her shoulders.
“Let’s go inside. Your body is freezing.”
“You know...”
He wrapped an arm around her, intending to lead her toward the back door, when her strained voice caught his attention. He looked down. Her shadowed blue eyes filled his vision. Biting her lip in hesitation, she struggled to continue.
“In the past...”
“So this is where you were!”
A booming voice cut her off.
Barkas turned toward the sound. Daren Dru Sieorkan was crossing the garden with half a dozen subordinates, trampling the grass and flowers along the narrow path.
“I have an urgent report. I went to the inn and met with informants from the capital; they say the movements within the Imperial Palace are unusual. It seems the Empress has begun expanding her influence in earnest—”
The man, who had been pouring out words in a frantic rush, fell silent as he belatedly noticed Thalia.
Barkas checked Thalia’s complexion. Her face, which had looked as vulnerable as a lost child’s moments ago, was now frozen cold. She took a step back and muttered in a low, hollow voice.
“I’ll head up to the room. You go ahead with your business.”
“I will escort you to your chambers.”
“I can go alone.”
“Have I not told you repeatedly that you are not to walk around without an escort?”
At his rebuking tone, a faint look of discontent flickered across her elegant features. She scanned the knights standing behind Daren and pointed to the smallest man among them.
“Then have that man escort me.”
The designated soldier flinched, looking flustered.
Ever since the incident where the Grand Duchess had tried to tear out Lucas’s tongue, the family’s warriors had treated her with extreme caution. The chosen man looked reluctant, hesitating as he glanced at Barkas for approval.
Barkas barked a cold command.
“What are you doing just standing there? Escort her at once.”
The moment the order fell, the soldier scurried over.
Barkas reluctantly released his hold on her. Thalia moved away from him without a second glance.
After watching her retreating figure for a moment, Barkas turned back to Daren. As if he had been waiting for the cue, Daren pulled a bundle of parchment from his tunic and held it out.
“These documents record the events that have taken place in the capital since Your Excellency left the palace.”
Barkas read through the documents carefully. The report stated that cracks were forming among the conservative nobles and that the Empress had openly begun gathering supporters for the Second Imperial Prince.
Barkas frowned.
‘It’s unlike her.’
The Emperor was still hale and hearty. Barring any unforeseen events, Birus Roem Guirta’s reign would continue for at least another decade. Why, then, was the Empress not waiting until the Second Imperial Prince reached adulthood?
This incomprehensible move stirred a strong sense of vigilance. Just as she had used her daughter to provoke Gareth, was she now planning to incite discord by putting forward her young son? If she was trying to goad Gareth into losing control, there might be a much greater danger lurking behind this marriage proposal.
As he read that the engagement between the heir of House Heimdall and the First Imperial Princess was being discussed in earnest, Barkas crumpled the parchment in annoyance.
Strengthening ties with the North was not inherently bad. However, entrusting Aila’s safety to them was a premature decision.
Northerners were a people with an extraordinary obsession with their own bloodline. They were the ones who had not hesitated to practice consanguinity for generations to preserve the platinum hair and red eyes characteristic of the ancient giants. There was no way they would quietly accept a black-haired princess as their mistress. They surely had other intentions.
With a pensive expression, Barkas stroked his jaw before leaving the garden.
Guided by the head butler, he entered his office, where a young squire brought him writing materials. He sat at his desk and drafted several documents—orders to thoroughly investigate the size of the army mobilized by House Heimdall and the flow of their funds.
After sealing them and handing them to a messenger, he wrote two additional telegrams to be sent to the capital. One was for Marquis Oristein, and the other was for Gareth.
Drafting sentences that warned of the dangers of the North in the most diplomatic tone possible, Barkas signed the bottom of the documents and pressed his seal.
Daren, who had been watching from the side, asked in an awkward tone.
“Do you intend to stop the First Imperial Princess’s marriage?”
Barkas looked at him with a questioning gaze.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well... wouldn’t it look a bit strange if Your Excellency were the one to step forward and dissuade them?” Daren scratched the back of his head. “People might think the Grand Duke of Sieorkan still harbors lingering feelings for the First Imperial Princess.”
Barkas let out a dry laugh.
“You worry about the most trivial things.”
The gossip spread by the palace socialites would have little impact on the East. He had already made sure his vassals recognized the new Grand Duchess. At present, it was more dangerous to give the conservative nobles the impression that the relationship between himself and the Crown Prince had completely soured.
He rolled up the parchment and applied the sealing wax.
“Pick the fastest rider and send him to the capital.”
Daren, wearing a strange expression for a moment, took the parchment and left.
Barkas leaned back in his chair and turned his head toward the window. Before he knew it, the sky was pouring down thin streaks of rain.
Suddenly, the afterimage of Thalia standing forlornly in the garden flashed through his mind. What had she been trying to say?
The memory of her desolate eyes staring at the dead bird stirred an uncomfortable sensation in his chest. Overwhelmed by an inexplicable anxiety, Barkas tapped his fingers on the desk before abruptly leaving the office.
The hall was in an uproar, the servants busy preparing for a welcoming ceremony. He passed the bowing staff and climbed the stairs.
When he opened the bedroom door, he saw a small figure curled up on the large bed.
He approached the bedside. A faint flush had risen on her elegant, pale cheeks. After moping around like a sick chick all day, it seemed she had finally come down with a fever.
Exhaling a long breath, Barkas picked up a clean towel from the shelf. Just as he was about to wipe her face, a strange smell hit him.
He froze. Dark red stains were spreading around her mouth. He stared at them blankly before gently shaking her body as she lay on her side. Her neck, soaked in cold sweat, went limp.
Only then did he notice the red marks blooming across the pillow. Barkas blinked slowly before carefully cradling her head.
The thick, metallic scent of blood stung his nose. The red liquid pooling at the corners of her mouth trickled down her deathly pale neck.