Chapter 51
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 51
Thalia remembered the days when she had gathered every word that fell from his lips like a rare jewel, turning each one over and over in her mind. Even words that cut like daggers had been pressed deep into her chest, where she would stroke them again and again.
But she was tired of the pain now. She was sick of assigning special meaning to his trivial words and actions, only to be met with inevitable disappointment. She was no longer a foolish girl; she had learned all too well that Thalia Roem Guirta meant absolutely nothing to him.
She struggled not to cling to the firm arms that carefully lifted her, ruthlessly pruning the buds of hope that tried to sprout with such pathetic persistence. The only reason he was doing this was his sense of responsibility.
He was a man she had observed and analyzed for over a decade, a man she had dissected in her mind hundreds of times. She knew exactly how he functioned. Regardless of how much he loathed Thalia Roem Guirta, to him, she was still someone to be protected. She might not be as important as Gareth or Aila, but she was not someone he could simply leave broken and abandoned.
For a man who lived to fulfill his duties, it was only natural to feel indebted after failing to uphold one of his obligations.
"I will have a meal prepared."
Barkas, who had entered the dim tent before she realized it, spoke as he laid her down on the cot. Lost in thought, Thalia looked down at her legs. Perhaps the medicine was already wearing off; a tingling sensation had begun to spread from her shins to her pelvis.
"Forget the food. Just light the incense."
"After you eat."
A firm voice echoed above her head. She forced her hazy eyes open and glared at him, but Barkas had already turned away to give instructions to a squire.
She wanted to hurl a pillow at his tiresome back, but her limbs felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton, and she could not budge. In the end, she gave up on her anger and buried her face in the blankets, which smelled of cedar and mint.
A short while later, Barkas returned with a bowl of porridge. Thalia reluctantly picked up the spoon. The very act of forcing something into her stomach felt like torture, but unless she at least made an effort to eat, this stubborn man would never allow the incense to be lit. Unable to endure the worsening pain, she forced the greenish mixture, thick with herbs, into her mouth.
"Happy now?"
When she set the half-empty bowl down with a clatter, the man who had been standing over her like a prison guard inspected it as though conducting a formal examination.
"I ate," Thalia added irritably. "What more do you want?"
Barkas watched her face, now beaded with cold sweat from the pain, for a moment before turning to tell an attendant to bring the incense burner.
Once again, pale smoke began to invade her mind. As the pain gradually subsided, Thalia let her body go limp. It felt as though she were drifting inside a cold cloud. The man’s presence, which had scraped at her nerves like a blade, also began to fade.
She did not know how long she had lain there, intoxicated by that languid sensation, before an unpleasant shadow flickered into her blurry vision. Thalia strained her unfocused eyes to look more closely. The elegant silhouette of a woman standing with her back to the sunset burned into her retinas. A beat later, she realized the figure was her noble half-sister.
Thalia observed Aila’s stiff expression as though examining a decorative ornament in a cabinet. A faint crack had appeared in that face, usually as poised as fine porcelain, as though something truly unpleasant had occurred.
A flicker of curiosity rose within her. Aila rarely lost her composure, no matter how Thalia tormented her. What could possibly have made her look so miserable?
"I know you feel a sense of responsibility for this situation. However, you are my fiancé. It is not appropriate to keep that child in your tent indefinitely..."
Aila’s soft voice seeped into Thalia’s ears, which felt as though they were filled with water. She knitted her brows. Rather than the content of Aila’s words, it was that smooth, melodic voice that grated on her nerves.
Does that woman even act all high and mighty when she’s angry?
Thalia needed to vent every last scrap of emotion before she could feel satisfied, so such restraint was beyond anything she could imitate. Perhaps that was why she hated Aila even more. It was horrifying that this woman, who possessed virtues Thalia could never hope to mimic, was her half-sister. Had she not been forced into a position where she was constantly compared with Aila, she might have hated her a little less.
Aila continued, "If you are worried about leaving her alone, I will take her to my quarters. Then you will not have to worry about her anymore—"
"Does anyone put a snake and a lynx in the same cage?"
A dry, weary voice cut the Princess off mid-sentence. Thalia shifted her gaze toward Barkas, who was leaning one shoulder against a tent pole. It was rare for a man who always maintained such rigid posture to lean against anything.
Had he been in here with me the whole time I was inhaling the medicine? If so, it was remarkable that he could stand there so unaffected. Thalia could barely keep her eyelids open.
"Are you comparing me to such lowly beasts right now?" Aila’s voice sharpened slightly.
Thalia strained her eyes further. She wanted to see Aila’s face contort, but Barkas straightened, and his broad shoulders blocked her view.
Then his cold voice rang out. "Is it not obvious what would happen if the Second Imperial Princess stayed in your quarters?" He let out a low sigh and added in a cynical tone, "Or do you wish to see the heads of your precious maids all lined up on the chopping block?"
Aila fell silent, seemingly at a loss for words. Thalia stared blankly at Barkas’s back, which was bathed in deep shadow.
...As I thought, he was just monitoring me. He kept me by his side to make sure I wouldn’t cause any more trouble.
She had expected nothing from the start, so there should have been no disappointment. Then why am I hurting again?
Disgusted with herself, Thalia closed her eyes. As she released the thread of consciousness she had been clinging to, the irritating noises faded in an instant. It felt as though she were sinking into deep water. She willingly submerged herself in unconsciousness.
* * *
A stifling, sweltering heat had persisted for days. For those forced to travel with dozens of corpses, it was nothing short of a disaster.
To prevent decay, purification salt and dried herbs had been stuffed into the body cavities, while myrrh and glaze had been applied to the ashen skin. Even so, as the days passed, a strange stench began to waft from the coffins. Naturally, the faces of those in the procession twisted with misery.
Leaning against the window frame and looking out at the scene, Thalia suddenly remembered how she had prayed for the procession to lead to hell when they left the Imperial Palace.
Did God hear my prayer? Or is He punishing me?
She was lost in thought, fingering her aching knee, when the sound of a whistle drifted from afar. Thalia narrowed her eyes against the glare and looked over the hill. Below the gentle slope, beneath the sun’s intense rays, a gray stone wall rose high.
The miserable, bleak journey, which had felt as though it would never end, had finally reached its conclusion.