Chapter 75
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 75
“The exterior might look a bit rugged, but the interior is decorated so luxuriously that it rivals any castle in the Central Region. You won’t find it uncomfortable in the least.”
The man spoke in a soothing tone, carefully reading her expression. Thalia merely responded with a look of deep skepticism.
Has this country bumpkin even set foot in the Imperial Palace or the estates of the high nobility?
Perhaps sensing her disdain, a vein throbbed slightly on the man’s forehead. He added, emphasizing every single word:
“Raedgo Castle was built by Dwarves during the Era of Nations. It boasts a scale and convenience that is not inferior to the Imperial Palace—”
“I know. It’s the fortress your Khan people forced the Dwarves of the Northeastern Region to build as slaves.”
Her sharp retort silenced him instantly.
Thalia continued coldly, intending to ensure this frivolous-looking man wouldn’t dare strike up a conversation again.
“If you’re done prattling on about things I didn’t ask, would you mind leaving now?”
“Well, I never.”
The man shook his head, looking utterly flabbergasted.
“Does Your Highness happen to know the definition of the word ‘sociability’?”
“And do you know the meaning of ‘unnecessary interference’?” Thalia put a sharp edge on her voice. “Or perhaps, the meaning of ‘insolence’?”
Realizing that further talk would only lead to more losses, the man snapped his reins and hurried away as if fleeing. Thalia scoffed at his retreating back and promptly pulled the window shut.
People who approached with unprovoked kindness usually harbored hidden motives. Furthermore, that Easterner was only pretending to smile with his mouth; his eyes had been scrutinizing and judging her every move. He was likely trying to gauge what kind of person the future Grand Duchess would be.
With another scoff, Thalia drew the curtains and sank deep into her seat.
She couldn’t let her guard down for a single moment. The Sieorkan clan undoubtedly viewed her with distaste.
The former Empress Bernadette and the Grand Duke of Sieorkan were cousins and had been quite close. The Khan people would surely harbor strong resentment that the daughter of the current Empress—their political rival—was becoming the next Grand Duchess instead of their own kin, Aila.
Thalia clutched her throbbing head. She might be treated with even more unpleasantness than she imagined.
Even in the Imperial Palace, where Senevia held sway, she had endured all sorts of foul treatment. Raedgo Castle would likely be worse, certainly not better.
Thalia scraped her nail against her lip, which was covered in scabs from her constant biting. Her throat, parched from the fever, stung. She pulled a water bottle from a cabinet installed on one side of the carriage to moisten her dry mouth, just as a thunderous trumpet blast echoed from outside.
Thalia peeked through the curtains again. Before she knew it, the carriage had reached the front of the fortress.
After a brief slowdown, presumably for an identity check, the carriage passed through the massive castle gates. As she peered out the window, spying on her surroundings, an involuntary gasp escaped Thalia’s lips.
The words of the Easterner named Tyron had been no exaggeration. Contrary to its rugged exterior, the interior of the castle was filled with a beauty of precise calculation.
She looked around at the incredibly clean, orderly roads, the spires that seemed to pierce the heavens, and the exquisite architecture. It was as if every structure had been meticulously carved by a single master craftsman.
The fortress, crafted from a combination of gray stone and black marble, rose at varying heights in a display of sublime sculptural beauty. Arched stone bridges connected the buildings like arteries.
As she gazed at them with admiring eyes, a fountain located in the center of a plaza came into view. Thalia’s eyes widened. A fountain, far larger and more magnificent than any in the Imperial Palace, was vigorously spraying clear streams of water.
This fortress clearly had an abundant supply of water. The water overflowing from the fountain flowed into a waterway along grooves carved into the roadside.
Her eyes darted around restlessly, overwhelmed by the sight of the castle interior, seamlessly woven from stone, marble, steel, and water. Just then, the marching cavalry stopped in front of a structure that appeared to be the main castle.
Thalia shifted her gaze forward.
In front of the beautiful citadel—a fusion of the Roem Empire’s delicate architectural style and the unique aesthetic of the Easterners—stood rows of people dressed in ornate clothing.
Barkas, who had brought his horse to a halt before them, dismounted and shouted something in the Eastern language. At his call, those waiting on the stairs rushed down and surrounded him.
Are they Barkas’s kin?
As she watched them with curious eyes, Barkas pushed through the boisterous crowd and walked straight toward her carriage.
Thalia hurriedly closed the curtains. She tried to lie back on the seat and pretend to be asleep, but the carriage door swung open without warning, and Barkas stepped inside.
Thalia looked up at him, her face tense.
As he always had since leaving the Roem Knights, Barkas wore armor forged of black iron with an Eastern-style overcoat loosely draped over it. His large frame, heavily scented with the smell of dry grass, instantly filled her field of vision.
“How are you feeling?”
Barkas, having removed his gauntlets, placed a hand on her forehead. Sensing the heat, a slight crease formed between his smooth brows.
“Your fever still hasn’t broken.”
“...I’m fine. It’s not like this is the first time.”
Thalia looked down with an uncomfortable expression. Perhaps she had grown somewhat accustomed to it, as she found herself being startled less often when he touched her, but the sense of awkwardness and discomfort remained unavoidable.
As she aimlessly picked at her skirt, he took off the overcoat he was wearing and wrapped it around her. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he slid his arms under her knees to pick her up.
Thalia immediately twisted her body away and hugged her knees.
“Don’t! Are you planning to humiliate me even in front of your family?”
Barkas’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head to the side as if he couldn’t understand.
“How is it humiliating for a husband to care for his wife?”
Thalia stared at him, speechless.
She had known for a long time that this man was driven by a profound sense of duty. However, she hadn’t expected him to try to fulfill his obligations even in a marriage forced upon him by the Emperor’s pressure.
She glared at him with fierce eyes.
“Is that what Aila taught you? That a husband must look after his wife?”
His brow furrowed at her sharp tone. After a brief pause, as if considering something, Barkas spoke dryly.
“Did I not swear as much before the altar? That I would care for my wife as my own body.”
“Don’t make me laugh. You don’t even care for your own body.”
“……”
“And I have no intention of playing the role of a ‘submissive wife’ just because some priest babbled it. So you can stop pretending to be a devoted husband, too.”
After snapping at him, she stood up unsteadily to leave, but Barkas stepped up behind her and snatched her up into his arms. Thalia glared at him, her face flushed with indignation. But before she could lash out, Barkas spoke first.
“Do I look stupid enough to expect something ‘submissive’ from you?”
“What do you mean by—!”
“It means I expect nothing from you, so do as you please.”
He spoke dryly, readjusting his hold on her struggling body with one arm.
“Because I intend to do as I please as well.”
With that, he pulled the hood of the cloak over her head and stepped out of the carriage.
Thalia winced at the intense sunlight that stung her eyes. As her vision, which had momentarily turned white, cleared, she saw unfamiliar faces looking at her with expressions mixed with wariness and curiosity.
Thalia’s face burned with shame. Instead of projecting the dignity of an Imperial Princess, she felt a surge of humiliation at being carried like a helpless child.
“Is this the woman who pushed aside the First Imperial Princess to take my brother’s place as his wife?”
As she instinctively hid her face against his shoulder, she heard a clear, androgynous voice. Thalia looked back.
A boy with shaggy black hair and large golden-brown eyes was watching her with his hands clasped behind his head. He looked to be about fifteen. His youthful face, still covered in fine peach fuzz, leaned in close.
The boy peered curiously at her as she peeked out from the hood.
“Her eyes look just like lapis lazuli.”
Then, without warning, he reached toward her head to pull the hood down. Thalia froze, shocked by such unprecedented insolence, but Barkas caught the boy’s wrist.
“Lucas.”
A chillingly cold voice echoed from above her head.