Chapter 110
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 110
“Since this mess was caused by a healer from House Sieorkan, this is the least we can do.”
Lucas’s expression clouded. His heart grew heavy at the thought of Tiuran, who was currently confined to a solitary cell.
“What kind of punishment do you think Tiuran will receive?”
“Who knows? Since Her Highness woke up safely, it will probably end with nothing more than a stint in confinement,” Daren replied in a disinterested tone. “That woman should consider herself incredibly lucky. If the Grand Duchess’s condition had been any more serious, she would have been headed for the gallows.”
Lucas frowned, a wave of discomfort washing over him.
Tiuran was a vassal who had been loyal to House Sieorkan for over a decade. He felt a flicker of resentment toward Daren for speaking so callously about her potential execution.
“It only happened because that woman is so damn fragile. Do you really have to be so harsh?”
“Master Lucas.”
A sharp note of warning crept into Daren’s voice.
After tossing a leather pouch filled with silver coins to a peddler as if he were discarding trash, Daren pulled Lucas to one side of the hall.
“I am well aware that you harbor ill will toward the Grand Duchess. However, you must stop openly displaying your hostility.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m—”
“You are more concerned about the fate of a mere healer than the health of the Grand Duchess,” Daren scolded. “She is the daughter of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor and the mistress of the East. By all rights, Tiuran should be executed for merely causing Her Highness harm. Limiting the punishment to house arrest is an act of extreme leniency.”
Lucas stared intently at Daren’s face.
“Are you actually acknowledging the Second Imperial Princess as the mistress of this house?”
“What does it matter whether I acknowledge her or not? It is already a reality,” Daren said, shrugging his massive shoulders. “It’s not as if we can undo a marriage arranged by the Emperor himself. Whether we like it or not, we have no choice but to accept it. Right now, solidifying the unity of the East is a more pressing matter.”
Lucas met Daren’s serious gaze with a heavy heart.
Having traveled through various regions of the East following Barkas, Lucas had seen the reality for himself. The local influential figures were solely focused on consolidating their own power while neglecting public security. As a result, bandits were running rampant throughout the East.
There were capable administrators, but even they tended to subtly keep the new Grand Duke in check rather than offering him unconditional loyalty.
Just as Tyron had warned, the order of the East was silently crumbling. Perhaps they should consider themselves fortunate to have a powerful new leader like Barkas.
Reaching an unwelcome conclusion, Lucas lowered his rebellious eyes with difficulty.
“I know that.”
Still, not wanting to be treated like a submissive child, he added sharply, “I just have to behave while my brother is whipping the Eastern nobles into shape, right?”
“Please, do exactly that,” Daren growled like a bear.
Undeterred, Lucas flashed a sarcastic smile.
“I’m already doing it. Haven’t you seen me scurrying around like a sewer rat to avoid bumping into that woman? I’m even keeping my head down in front of my brother.”
Daren raised a thick eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned down, casting a threatening shadow over the younger man.
“That is not enough. You must show proper respect to the Grand Ducal couple even in official settings. If you continue to use such rude language, the discipline of the East will—”
“All right, all right! I get it. So stop nagging me.”
Fed up, Lucas hurried up the stairs. Over the railing, he could see Daren glaring up at him fiercely. He gave a mocking snort for Daren to see and ran down the hallway, only to come to a sudden halt when he spotted a group of maids.
The Grand Duchess’s attendants were carefully carrying trays laden with dozens of different dishes.
She’s living like a damn queen.
Lucas twisted his lips into a cynical sneer, but then his brow furrowed. He didn’t understand why he felt such visceral hostility toward that woman. If he thought about it, wasn’t he the one who had crossed the line first?
He scratched his head in irritation. Lucas was well aware that he had been acting despicably.
However, whenever he recalled the moment he had argued with her, an irrational anger flared up before guilt could even take hold. Perhaps it was because of the way she had looked at him.
...She looked at me like I was an insect.
The moment he met those eyes—eyes that looked as if they were seeing the most loathsome thing in the world—he had been overcome by a foul impulse he had never felt before. He wanted to break that woman and her arrogant facade. He wanted to reduce her to a sobbing mess.
That base desire boiled in his blood, making it impossible to control himself.
As he retraced that intense impulse, Lucas felt a wave of nausea and turned away. A horrifying realization flashed through his mind: the reason he avoided her wasn’t just because of Barkas’s warning.
He felt that if he got close to her, he would be forced to witness something filthy within himself that he never wanted to face.
As if shaking off that ominous premonition, he hurried out of the dim corridor.
*
“One more bite.”
Thalia stared at the man holding out the spoon as if he were a two-headed monster. Was it possible that some wicked demon had taken on Barkas’s form and was masquerading as him?
Whether he was aware of her suspicious scrutiny or not, the man urged her on in his characteristically blunt tone.
“What are you doing? Eat.”
“...That’s enough. I don’t want any more.”
“Just one more spoonful.”
“I said no.”
When she jerked her head away to avoid the spoon that was hovering near her mouth like an annoying fly, he reached out with his free hand and cupped her chin. Her head forced back toward him, Thalia glared at him with a flushed face.
But Barkas didn’t even blink.
“If you eat this, I will let you have the fruit you like for dessert.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t want this, and I don’t want—!”
The spoon was shoved between her lips the moment they opened to protest. Thalia’s eyes widened in shock. He pressed down on the tip of her tongue with the spoon, silently commanding her to hurry up and swallow.
In the end, she had no choice but to gulp down the mushy substance. Her face contorted automatically at the unpleasant sensation of the slimy porridge sliding down her throat.
She shot him a venomous look. Regardless, Barkas stood up with a composed face and cleared the bowl.
His actions were so natural that a different suspicion began to take root. This was a man who had been served by others his entire life. Why was a man who had never bowed his head to anyone other than the Imperial family so adept at something like serving a meal?
“By any chance, have you fed someone else like this before?” Thalia demanded suddenly, narrowing her eyes.
Barkas, who was organizing the dishes on the tray, cast a nonchalant glance over his shoulder. A blunt reply followed immediately.
“To the point of exhaustion.”
Thalia froze in shock, her gaze sharpening in the next instant. She felt as if the food she had just forced down was about to surge back up. She forced a smile onto her twitching face.
“Well, that’s a shame. To think you’ve ended up playing nursemaid to a woman like me, leaving behind the fiancée you were so devoted to...”
“Her Highness the First Imperial Princess was not someone who required this much attention,” Barkas remarked casually as he moved the tray toward the door. “The one I fed was not a person, but a horse. When Torque was a foal, he required even more care than you do, Your Highness.”
Thalia looked at him, utterly dumbfounded. She couldn’t tell whether she should feel relieved or insulted.