Chapter 92
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 92
The heavy scent of water and the pungent aroma of mint flooded her senses.
Thalia looked up at him, her eyes trembling. Barkas leaned down, his low voice vibrating against her ear.
“If Your Highness is going to make such a fuss, there was no point in us sharing a room.”
His rebuking tone snapped her back to reality. She shoved his hand away and hurriedly scrambled backward.
As the distance between them grew, his smooth, sculpted physique came into full view. Thalia quickly cast her gaze downward.
“Put some clothes on! Have you no shame?”
When she snapped at him in a hushed, reproachful voice, a faint crease appeared between his brows. Shaking his head as if exasperated, Barkas stood up and spoke dryly.
“That is rich coming from someone who used to parade around the Imperial Palace in next to nothing at every opportunity.”
“When did I ever—!”
Thalia flared up and jerked her head back up, but the words died in her throat when she saw him pulling on a fresh shirt. Sliding his arms into the sleeves, Barkas threw a pointed remark her way.
“Ever since your coming-of-age ceremony approached, you began your clumsy imitation of the Empress.”
Thalia’s face contorted with humiliation.
The memory of those days, when she had struggled desperately to catch even a glimpse of his interest, brought a sudden surge of sorrow. She snatched the pillow from the head of the bed and swung it with all her might against his back.
“Now that I have a body that can’t even dream of wearing such clothes, you must be quite relieved!”
Barkas, who had been fastening his buttons, turned back to her with a cold gaze.
Thalia, huffing with rage, suddenly froze. Since the accident, Barkas had silently endured all her tantrums. However, it seemed his patience was finally beginning to wear thin.
Casting a ruthless look at her, the man climbed onto the bed. Thalia instinctively rolled toward the opposite side. She tried to flee, but a firm forearm wrapped around her waist, pinning her down in an instant. Thalia looked up at him, her eyes wide and stiff with fear.
He was a man who would use brute force to resolutely suppress her whenever she lost control. Because of this, his rough handling wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, yet her heart still sank.
Barkas leaned in close, his voice a low threat.
“It would be best if you started fixing that habit of yours.”
Thalia stared up at him, terrified. His expressionless gaze settled on her lips, which were stinging from being bitten so much. He added slowly, “And your habit of self-harm.”
Her faltering heart began to race as if it might explode. She couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or some other emotion. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“G-get away.”
“……”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said get away!”
Barkas didn’t budge. Her lips felt parched under his persistent stare. She instinctively tucked her lips, which were covered in dried scabs, back into her mouth. Watching her with narrowed eyes, Barkas released his grip on her wrists. But before she could even think of how to use her freed hands, he caught her chin.
Thalia gasped sharply. His calloused fingers pried her lips from between her teeth. His damp fingertips brushed over the swollen, sensitive skin.
“Stop tormenting your lips.”
Thalia looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and confusion.
If anyone else had touched her that way, she would have taken it as a sexual overture. Back when she frequented Senevia’s salons, hadn’t she encountered countless men who were dying to lay a hand on her?
But his apathetic face, devoid of any trace of desire, clouded her judgment. To her, this contact felt like her heart was being squeezed, but to him, it seemed to mean nothing at all.
Thalia exhaled a suppressed breath.
“I-I get it, so… go away.”
At her pleading voice, his eyes—which seemed to hold shards of silver—drifted upward. His bottomless, deep pupils seemed to strip away all her reason.
Thalia habitually stuck out her tongue to moisten her lips. In doing so, the tip of her tongue brushed his thumb, and her face turned bright red. Barkas observed her reaction intently, as if gauging whether her distaste was genuine.
Feeling as though her innermost thoughts were being laid bare, cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Unable to endure the silence any longer, Thalia blurted out urgently, “M-my leg hurts.”
Barkas paused.
She twisted her head to the side and repeated in a tight voice, “I woke up because it hurts. C-call a healer.”
Only then did he finally pull back.
Thalia fled to the corner of the bed like a beast released from a trap. Barkas watched her with contemplative eyes before turning away with a short sigh.
“I have already obtained medicine in advance.”
“I don’t need medicine. Sleep herb works a hundred times better. If you just call my healer, she’ll take care of it…”
A cold gaze flew her way again at her surly remark. Thalia’s voice trailed off as she pulled the duvet up to her chin.
Barkas picked up a glass bottle from the shelf, uncapped it, and held it out. After glaring at it as if it were a mortal enemy, Thalia reluctantly took the bottle. It was the same medicine she had been forced to swallow on her first day in the East—the same one she had poured into flowerpots every time since.
She squeezed her eyes shut and gulped down the liquid. It was so bitter it felt like it was burning her tongue.
He naturally took the empty bottle from her and laid her back down on the bed. His matter-of-fact attitude, as if he were handling a ten-year-old child, made her mind even more of a mess.
What was that just now? Was he trying to scare me? Or…
“Go to sleep now. You will need plenty of rest to handle tomorrow’s schedule.”
The train of her thoughts was cut short by his touch as he straightened her covers. Thalia watched him as if he were a viper that might turn on her at any moment.
Whether he noticed her wariness or not, Barkas dimmed the lamp and walked to the corner of the tent. He sat at the table and opened a ledger, seemingly reviewing the financial records of the territory.
Thalia watched his dry, businesslike figure with bated breath, wondering when he would lie down beside her. But as the night deepened, he did not move from the desk.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and she succumbed to sleep.
*
Thalia, who had fallen into a deep sleep at some point, woke up the next morning alone in the empty tent. It was a morning that made all her anxiety about sharing a bed with him seem pointless.
Looking around the dim tent soaked in the early dawn light, Thalia let out a hollow sigh. He had promised from the start that nothing would happen. So why had she been so restless?
“Miss, are you awake?”
As she was carefully checking the spot beside her to see if any trace of him remained, she heard the Nanny’s voice from outside.
Thalia stumbled out of bed. “I’m up.”
Soon after, the Nanny entered the tent with quick steps, balancing a large tray.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
The Nanny looked unusually cheerful. With a beaming smile, she chattered as she set down the tray laden with food.
“I’ve brought breakfast. I think you’ll like it this time, Miss. The administrator here prepared a lavish meal last night, and every bit of it was delicious.”
Thalia frowned as she looked down at the gold-plated dishes. They were piled high with grain porridge, rustic white bread, pungent cheese, and thick jam. Just looking at it made her feel nauseous.
“Forget it, just bring me some mead.”
“I can’t. His Excellency the Grand Duke gave me a real scolding, telling me to make sure you eat properly. Are you okay with me being punished by His Excellency?”
Thalia, who had picked up a piece of bread and was inspecting it for flies, shot her a suspicious look.
The Nanny firmly believed that, in some corner of his heart, the Emperor cherished the daughter born as an illegitimate child. She was likely over-interpreting a passing remark again.
Thalia spoke petulantly. “And where did that Grand Duke go so early in the morning?”