Chapter 68
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 68
Thalia picked at a hangnail, her nerves frayed.
Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, trickling slowly down her temples.
Barkas took her by the shoulders and slowly turned her to face him. She felt his long, firm fingers cup her cheek, the heat of his skin startling against her own.
Unable to meet his eyes, Thalia fixed her gaze on the tip of his chin. Then, Barkas leaned down.
His lips, unexpectedly warm and soft, brushed against the corner of her mouth before pulling away.
It was a kiss as light as a breeze—a mere formality, the ghost of a touch.
That fleeting contact, which could hardly even be called a kiss, felt like a blade carving her heart into tiny, jagged pieces.
“I hereby declare the conclusion of all rites.”
Following the priest’s final pronouncement, a smattering of perfunctory applause rang through the chapel.
Thalia looked up at him, her eyes trembling. His expressionless face, utterly unreadable, stared back down at her.
What on earth was he looking for in her expression?
After searching her face with that relentless gaze, Barkas finally turned toward the guests. Only then did Thalia exhale the breath she had been holding.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, his grip firm as he led her through the crowd.
Ghostly faces blurred past them as they walked at a measured pace. Gareth, his eyes gleaming with an eerie, mocking light; the Emperor, looking troubled and weary; Senevia, wearing a satisfied, triumphant smile… Countless shadows flowed by like a river, and soon, the dark, rain-streaked sky opened up before them.
“Bring my coat.”
Stopping at the chapel entrance, Barkas spoke to a knight standing guard. The knight immediately handed over the overcoat draped across his arm.
Barkas draped it over Thalia’s shoulders, then leaned down slightly and effortlessly scooped her up with one arm.
Thalia hurriedly threw her arms around his neck to keep from falling. The scent of soap and the cool dampness of the air drifted from his hair. Supporting her back with one hand, he began to walk slowly out into the rain.
Thalia watched as the soft, silver droplets washed over his face, turning his complexion pale and ethereal, before she turned her gaze toward the garden, now draped in somber shadows.
“…Where are we going?”
“I have arranged a temporary residence outside the Imperial Palace,” he replied, his pace steady despite the downpour. “We will stay there until we depart for the East.”
Thalia looked confused. Was this how a wedding was supposed to end?
Senevia had undoubtedly prepared a grand reception. The entire palace had been in an uproar for days, decorating the banquet hall and preparing a feast fit for legends. There would be guests who had traveled across the empire specifically to see him. Was it really all right to leave all that behind?
“We have done enough. There is no reason to remain a spectacle any longer.”
His cold voice pulled her back to reality.
He was right. This marriage was nothing more than fodder for vulgar gossip. A crippled illegitimate princess and a swapped bride; a pitiful groom who had gone from an object of envy to one of pity overnight…
She didn’t need to hear the whispers to know what they were saying.
There was no reason for Barkas to endure such humiliation. No matter how powerful the Emperor was, he could not force such a public sacrifice upon the man who would become the ruler of the East.
He navigated the muddy path and stopped before a carriage emblazoned with the crest of House Sieorkan. An attendant scrambled down from the driver’s box to wrench the door open.
Barkas stepped inside and set her down gently on the thick, cushioned seat. Thalia watched him with a strange look in her eyes; he had become soaked to the bone in that short span of time.
Barkas sat across from her, tugging at his restrictive formal collar to loosen it as he let out a long, weary sigh. Droplets of water clinging to his hair ran down his forehead and gathered at the corners of his eyes. His gaze, which felt dry despite the moisture, fixed directly on her.
“How is your leg?”
Thalia’s lips twitched. It annoyed her that he was paying more attention to her injury than necessary. Gareth’s voice, mocking her for trading a limb to take the seat beside Barkas, echoed in her mind.
She bit down on the tender flesh inside her cheek.
I know.
I know what I am, so why do you keep reminding me?
“It’s still attached and perfectly fine, so mind your own business.”
When she snapped at him irritably, his eyes narrowed. Thalia turned her head toward the window to avoid his sharp gaze, but his wet fingers immediately forced her chin back around.
“I asked if you were in pain.”
Her shoulders stiffened at his hard tone, but only for a moment before she roughly shoved his hand away.
“Does it make you feel better if I say I’m okay?”
“…”
“Well, too bad. There hasn’t been a single day since then that it hasn’t hurt.”
She stared intensely at his mask-like face, her words stinging like venom.
“So don’t grate on my nerves with pointless questions. It’s annoying.”
The warm, soft lips that had touched her earlier were now pressed into a cold, thin line.
She had used cruel words to silence him, yet she was the one who felt suffocated by the ensuing silence. Thalia bit her dry lips, frustrated by her own agitation.
Still, coldness was better than pity. The lukewarm kindness that had been poured upon her ever since her leg became like this was more horrific than any insult.
To hide her inner turmoil, Thalia spoke with deliberate sharpness.
“What are you doing? Why aren’t we moving? Are we going to stay here all night?”
Barkas stared at her for a long moment before turning and lightly tapping on the carriage wall. A moment later, the sound of snapping reins rang out, and the carriage began to roll forward.
Thalia looked out at the rain-soaked garden through the blurred glass. The unfamiliar scenery of the palace, which had never once felt like home, slid rapidly past the hazy pane.
As she stared blankly, her body was suddenly lifted, and she felt the plush seat against her back. Thalia looked up, startled.
Barkas, having laid her down across the wide carriage seat, reached behind the backrest and pulled out a cloak embroidered with the crest of the Roem Knights, draping it over her.
“It is a long journey. Try to get some sleep.”
Thalia reached out to throw it off, but Barkas was faster. He caught her hand and pinned it to the seat. Then, looking down into her eyes—where the haze of her medicine had not yet fully faded—he warned her in the rough, familiar tone he used to use during their teenage years.
“Don’t be stubborn. Just sleep. Don’t make me uneasy with those unfocused eyes.”
Thalia flinched at his threatening tone, but soon pulled the cloak up to the bridge of her nose. Barkas watched her for a moment before letting out a tired sigh and sitting back down on the opposite seat.
For some reason, she felt like crying. Thalia buried her face in the fabric that carried his scent and closed her eyes.
* * *
She must have drifted off at some point.
Realizing that the jolting of the carriage had stopped, Thalia rubbed her gritty eyes, one hand clutching her throbbing forehead.
As she managed to force her eyes open, she saw that the carriage was empty. Thalia bolted upright in alarm, her eyes darting around in fear as she searched for Barkas. That was when a gruff, gravelly voice drifted in from outside.
“What do you intend to do about the First Imperial Princess?”
Thalia’s shoulders went rigid. She pressed herself close to the window. Through the water-streaked glass, she saw the evening sky; the rain had finally stopped, leaving a bruised, reddish horizon. Beneath that sky stood a massive, rugged stone building and about a dozen men.
It wasn’t hard to find Barkas among them. Standing with his back to the sunset, he spoke dryly.
“What is the intent behind that question?”
“Do you truly intend to abandon her like this…?”
“You’re saying strange things.” A sharp, mocking laugh cut through the damp air. “Wasn’t my engagement to her originally made to keep the Empress in check?”
“…”
“Marriage isn’t the only way to protect those two people.”
“That means…”
Confusion colored the man’s voice. However, Barkas didn’t seem inclined to offer a detailed explanation. He cut the knight off as if he were a nuisance.
“Was I in a position where I had to be interrogated by you?”
“I—I apologize. I overstepped my bounds.” The man hurriedly bowed his head.
Barkas looked down at him with cold eyes before speaking flatly.
“Nothing changes. Continue to monitor the Empress’s movements as you have been. And, if it seems the Crown Prince is about to do something reckless, report to me immediately.”
“Understood.”
As if he had said all he needed to say, Barkas turned away.
Thalia hurriedly laid her head back down on the seat. But before she could pull the cloak over herself and pretend to be asleep, the carriage door creaked open, and Barkas appeared.
Thalia looked up at him, her eyes frozen with the weight of what she had just overheard.