Chapter 87
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 87
She stared at the heaps of garments before lowering her gaze to her legs, hidden beneath the heavy folds of her skirt.
Having bathed with her nanny’s assistance the moment she woke early that morning, she had already summoned a healer to re-wrap her bandages. She would never allow them to see her scars.
Biting her lip, Thalia finally gave a sharp nod.
“Do as you wish.”
At her word, the maids set up a folding screen in the center of the room. Thalia stood behind it like a beast being led to the slaughter. A young maid approached, removed her thin robe, and began undoing the buttons of her summer dress. Soon, the loose garment slid down her body, pooling at her feet.
Thalia noticed the maid suddenly catch her breath. She reflexively checked her petticoat; the distorted silhouette of her legs was faintly visible through the thin fabric. Feeling her ears burn with humiliation, she snapped at the girl.
“Don’t just stand there gaping! Finish up, quickly!”
The frozen maid hurried to bring the new clothes. Unable to watch the girl’s clumsy movements any longer, the head maid pushed her aside and personally dressed Thalia in a milky-white silk gown.
The thin fabric, delicately pleated, flowed over her body like mist. The head maid layered a translucent, slate-blue over-robe over it, then fastened an ornate sash embroidered with elaborate patterns.
The belt, woven from double-layered silk, was adorned with jade, topaz, and small animal-shaped ornaments. After tightening it to accentuate her waistline, the head maid draped colorful cords finished with metal bells and tassels over her hips.
The grooming did not end there. Various jewels strung on thin gold threads were layered around her neck and wrists, and large earrings engraved with a golden bird motif hung heavy from her earlobes.
She felt like a jewelry display stand. She wondered if this gaudy outfit was truly traditional Eastern attire. As she frowned suspiciously, the maid helping her into a deep blue silk coat with wide sleeves let out a breathy exclamation.
“You look just like the legendary Tiramer.”
“Tiramer?”
At the unfamiliar name, Thalia narrowed her eyes. The maid’s face turned pale, and she quickly covered her mouth. The suspicious reaction soured Thalia’s mood. Is she making a fool of me?
Perhaps they were mocking her, taking advantage of her ignorance.
She pressed for an answer. “What is that? Why did you stop talking?”
“Tiramer is...”
“Tiramer is the Earth Spirit who governs the seasons,” the head maid interrupted, her voice calm as she pulled the front of the silk coat diagonally and secured the trailing fabric with a brooch.
“The ancient Easterners believed they were descendants of Tiramer. She is considered the most beautiful and noble of all the spirits of this land.”
Thalia looked at the head maid’s composed face with skeptical eyes.
“Then you could have just said that. Why did she turn so pale?”
“Brisa likely feared Your Highness might misunderstand and think we truly believe in such legends,” the head maid replied, straightening up after arranging the coat’s front to drape naturally. “The story of Tiramer is merely an old folk tale. I hope Your Highness does not doubt our faith.”
Thalia stared intently at the head maid’s stiff expression. A faint tension hung over her long, horse-like features. There was no way to tell if she was lying or if she truly feared being branded a heretic.
Thalia turned her head to face the mirror she had been avoiding. On the smooth surface surrounded by deep shadows, a face eerily similar to her mother’s was reflected back at her.
However, instead of the explosive vitality Senevia possessed, a gloomy, ashen shadow hung over that exquisite face. Starved eyes that seemed to ache for something, a haggard complexion, and a wretched body that fell far short of Senevia’s perfectly balanced, voluptuous form...
Suddenly, Gareth’s mocking voice echoed in her ears.
‘A woman’s face on a monster’s body...’
The face that seemed a clumsy imitation of her mother’s distorted hideously. It was painful to look at her broken, unfinished self.
She turned away sharply.
“If you’re done, get out of the way! How long are you going to keep fussing?”
When she roughly brushed away the hands styling her hair, the maid standing behind her flinched and retreated.
The head maid let out a small sigh.
“I will place the crown on you now. Please bear with it a little longer.”
A waiting maid immediately brought forward a gold crown. After placing it on her head, the head maid coiled Thalia’s long hair and secured it with a jade ornament.
Finally, when the grooming was complete, the maids stepped back and bowed respectfully.
“We will now escort you to His Excellency the Grand Duke’s quarters.”
The head maid spoke as she stepped toward the door. Thalia watched her for a moment with anxious eyes before following.
Dozens of soldiers were waiting in the hallway. As she stepped carefully between them, the sound of her limping echoed against the stone. She tried to walk as naturally as possible, but her stiff leg betrayed her will, as always.
She held her head high, struggling to keep her shame from showing.
After walking for a short while, the head maid stopped.
“It is this room.”
She pointed to a large door across from the stairs.
It seemed the Grand Duke’s quarters were on the same floor. Relieved that she didn’t have to climb any stairs, Thalia approached the large mahogany door.
“I have brought Her Imperial Highness,” the head maid announced in a respectful tone. A dignified voice answered from within.
“Come in.”
The head maid obeyed immediately. As the maids threw open the double doors, a wide space filled with vassals was revealed.
Thalia’s spine stiffened as she faced dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on her. The well-dressed men were looking at her with expressions of visible shock.
Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine.
Is something wrong with my appearance? She checked her outfit. Perhaps they had dressed her incorrectly just to make her a laughingstock. They might have lied about it being traditional Eastern clothing and dressed her like a clown.
She glared at the head maid as if she wanted to tear her apart. Then, suddenly fearing her legs might be visible through the fabric, she lowered her eyes again.
She saw nothing but the voluminous, pleated folds of her dress. But from the front, the shape of her mangled legs might still be showing.
Cold sweat trickled down her spine. Thalia’s eyes darted around, looking as if she wanted to flee right then and there.
Just then, heavy footsteps approached. Startled, Thalia looked up, her eyes widening as Barkas came to a halt before her.
He was dressed in similar attire. A black silk tunic with a subtle sheen, a belt with intricate gold embroidery, and a wide, diagonally draped coat flowed elegantly along the lines of his solid frame.
Thalia scanned him as if possessed, then raised her gaze when she felt a warm finger touch her chin.
Large earrings with blue gemstones and a necklace heavy with topaz sparkled in the sunlight.
Her heart skipped a beat.
It was the first time she had seen him wearing so much jewelry. Was he not the man who usually dressed more austerely than a priest?
Lavishly adorned, Barkas looked not like a knight of the Roem Empire, but like the sovereign of an ancient barbarian tribe.
“Are your legs hurting?” Barkas asked in a heavy, low tone, searching her face intently.
Finally coming to her senses, Thalia brushed his hand away and took a step back. She felt as if he could hear the frantic pounding of her heart.
“I—I’m fine.”
She tried to feign composure, but her cheeks burned as if they were on fire. His blue eyes settled on her flushed face.
Barkas frowned and placed a hand on her forehead.
“Are you running a fever again...?”
“I said I’m fine!”