Chapter 33
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 33
Dismissing her attendants, Aila followed him out of the cloister. Before them, a garden lush with marigolds, daisies, and rosemary stretched out under the gray sky.
The plants, sodden from the downpour, released a thick, pungent scent of greenery into the air. Inhaling the sharp fragrance, Aila turned her head to look up at Barkas.
“Did something happen last night?”
At her hesitant question, the man, who had been walking in silence, turned toward her.
Aila peered straight into his eyes. They were pale, shimmering blue depths that reflected everything but let nothing in. Staring into those eyes, she felt a familiar tightness in her chest.
Will the day ever come when I finally find a place within them?
As she was lost in that thought, Barkas’s firmly set lips parted.
“Nothing occurred that Your Highness needs to concern yourself with.”
“...So something did happen.”
Barkas offered no reply. Instead, he stepped out into the rain-slicked garden with long strides.
Heavy raindrops blanketed his broad shoulders and back in a shroud of white. As Aila watched his cold, retreating figure with a disgruntled gaze, Barkas reached a hand back toward her.
“The puddles are deep.”
Realizing his intent, Aila’s cheeks flushed, and she shot him a sidelong glance.
She didn’t want to simply throw herself into the arms of a man who had been acting so coldly. Yet, she couldn’t exactly leave her fiancé waiting for her in the middle of a downpour. After feigning indifference for a moment, Aila approached him as if she had no other choice.
Barkas stooped slightly, slid one arm behind her knees, and lifted her effortlessly.
Aila leaned her head against his shoulder, a habit she had kept since she was five years old.
“You know, you can be quite unfair.”
His eyebrows arched slightly at the contextless accusation. Instead of explaining the complex, subtle tangle of her emotions, Aila simply held onto him tighter.
Barkas wrapped his cloak securely around her and crossed the wide rear garden. Aila buried her cheek against his collar.
He smelled of sharp herbs and the faint tang of metal clinging to his armor, with a lingering fragrance reminiscent of dry fallen leaves and hay. As she let herself be intoxicated by his cool scent, her foul mood melted away like a lie. Aila let out a self-deprecating laugh.
It was ridiculous how she, like a smitten girl, felt her heart flutter at a gesture that was nothing more than an old habit to him.
The only reason this man acted kindly toward her was to keep the oath he had made to her mother. It was kindness born of duty—nothing more, nothing less. Even though she knew this well, she couldn’t stop her heart from aching.
Cruel man. I’d rather you weren’t kind at all. Then I could have been satisfied with a purely political relationship...
She lowered her eyes sadly.
“I will give orders to have bathwater brought to your room. Please warm yourself and get some rest.”
Having crossed the garden in an instant, Barkas spoke as he stopped at the entrance of the guest quarters. Aila nodded.
Barkas stepped lightly up the stone stairs and leaned down to set her on her feet.
At that moment, the sky flashed, followed by a thunderous roar that shook the very air.
Reflexively, Aila threw her arms around his neck.
A series of deafening cracks followed, as if the heavens were being torn apart, and golden flashes of lightning sliced through the black clouds. As she stared blankly over his shoulder at the apocalyptic scene, a pale figure sitting on a second-floor windowsill caught her eye.
For a second, she wondered if she was seeing a terrifying hallucination. Aila’s mouth hung open in shock.
The flickering light illuminated a face that was eerily beautiful. Atop a neck so slender it looked ready to snap, a snow-white face seemed to burn with a chilling, visceral hatred.
It wasn’t that she was unaware of her half-sister’s exceptional beauty, but why did it feel like such a shock now?
Thalia, her eyes shining fiercely amidst the storm, looked like an angel of death. Aila held her breath at the ominous sight. Then Thalia, who had been as still as a statue, picked up a vase sitting on the windowsill. A moment later, the ceramic shattered against a pillar near where they stood.
Aila let out a scream.
Thanks to Barkas shielding her, she avoided being showered in glass shards, but a small scratch appeared on his face. Aila hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his cheek.
Accepting it with his usual stoic expression, Barkas wiped his face and glanced upward.
Following his gaze, Aila’s face hardened when she saw Thalia still glaring down at them.
Showing not a shred of guilt, Thalia’s glowing eyes remained fixed on them as her lips twisted. Her blood-red lips looked like crushed roses.
A fear greater than anger stirred in Aila’s chest. Her half-sister, whom she had always considered insignificant, felt like the most threatening being in the world at that moment. It felt as if the evil spirit that had forced her mother to live in misery was now trying to drag Aila herself into a pit of despair.
Aila shuddered at the gruesome premonition.
*
The rain that had fallen all night finally subsided toward dawn.
Thalia, who had stayed awake nearly the entire night, looked out at the garden in the morning light with hollow eyes.
The once-vibrant blades of grass were half-submerged in muddy water, giving off a thick, raw scent of earth. The flowers that had colorfully decorated the beds lay strewn about like corpses with broken necks.
Gazing down at the scene with dark eyes, Thalia climbed out of bed and approached the small table in front of the fireplace.
On a silver plate, the food she hadn’t touched had hardened. She scanned it with indifferent eyes before picking up the small knife lying beside the tray.
Though it was designed for fruit, it looked sharp enough to carve through human flesh without much trouble.
Thalia ran her fingertip along the sharp point before sliding it into the pocket of her gown and slipping out of the room.
The hallway was thick with humidity. She walked through the heavy, sticky air as if swimming, gripping the ice-cold knife tightly.
Her palm was drenched in cold sweat. She couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or excitement. Perhaps it was both.
Moistening her parched lips, she crept up the stairs like a stray cat.
Aila occupied a room on the very top floor. Reaching the landing, Thalia pressed her body against the wall and scanned the dimly lit corridor. Fortunately, no one was guarding the door.
Exhaling a small sigh of relief, Thalia stepped cautiously toward the door at the end of the hall.
As she approached the iron-trimmed wooden door, the faint scent of herbs hit her nose. It was the smell of a calming scented candle, burned to soothe the nerves.
Thalia’s lips twisted. It seemed last night hadn’t been particularly comfortable for Aila either. Recalling the way Aila’s face had turned pale with fright upon seeing her, Thalia let out a giggle. But the memory of what followed immediately sent her mood crashing to the floor.
Her face contorted savagely as she thrust her hand into her pocket and gripped the hilt of the knife.
Her entire body began to tremble. The moment she had seen Barkas carrying Aila in his arms through the pouring rain, she felt something she had been barely holding together shatter completely.
She rubbed her blurring eyes harshly with her sleeve.
It was her only memory.
A memory she had buried deep in her heart for years, taking it out in secret to look at.
Did he have to turn even that memory into nothing?
Could he not have left just one thing as something special between them?
Her mind seethed with rage. She knew these were irrational emotions. Nevertheless, she could not bring herself to forgive the two of them.
She wanted to punish Aila for taking away her last remaining sanctuary. She wanted to return to that man the same amount of pain she was feeling.
Thalia narrowed her burning eyes and glared at the firmly closed door. Once she crossed this threshold, she would be crossing the point of no return.
Perhaps she would be recorded in history as the wicked witch who took the life of a poor, innocent princess. She didn’t care. She was already regarded as the ultimate villainess. What did she have left to lose by falling even further?
With a trembling hand, she gripped the doorknob.