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Varkas’s pupils dilated sharply, the silver-gray specks in his blue irises churning. Yet that flicker of agitation lasted only a breath.
In an instant, his features hardened back into ice. He stared down at her with cold, glinting blue eyes. Soon, a dry rasp accompanied by a hollow laugh broke the silence.
“Do you even understand what you are saying?”
“Who do you take me for—a fool?”
Amidst a tension that made her knees tremble, Talia forced an arrogant tilt to her chin. Whatever happened, she refused to look as if she were begging.
“I intend to sleep with you.”
· · ·
“Why? Must I be more plain?”
She tilted her head back and threw him a defiant glare. The sneer lingering on his lips vanished.
Unfolding his arms, he slowly closed the distance between them.
“You wish to sleep with me?”
The deep bass pressing down upon the crown of her head sent a shiver straight through her spine.
Talia braced her neck, fighting the instinct to shrink away. Without shifting his gaze, Varkas took her chin in his hand and pressed his thumb firmly against her lower lip.
“Is that why you came dressed like this?”
She felt the thick rouge smear across her mouth. Flushing crimson, Talia struck his hand away with a fierce slap. A faint trace of mockery touched his face.
“You flinch at mere touch, yet what is it you actually intend to do?”
“Because you are always laying hands on me without warning…!”
Protesting with flushed cheeks, Talia snapped her mouth shut. She could not allow this man to sweep her off balance.
“Why waste words? I am telling you I will do it!”
The corner of Varkas’s mouth twitched faintly.
“If you say you will, am I simply expected to comply?”
His response cut sharper than expected, sending heat surging up her throat.
Swallowing the bitter humiliation, she glared at him with furious eyes.
“Yes.”
· · ·
“You will do as I demand.”
His sharp eyes narrowed. It was an expression of sheer disbelief rather than offense.
Talia forced strength into her stiffening legs and stood. Closing the gap until she was nearly touching his chest, she tilted her head back in open provocation.
“You are now the head of House Shearkan, and you bear the duty of siring an heir. This is an obligation you must fulfill as my husband.”
“I was unaware you were so deeply devoted to your marital responsibilities.”
A bitter sneer grazed his lips.
“So what you mean to say is, you will sacrifice your body for my house and me. Is that it?”
Talia looked up at him, her face completely frozen.
She had braced herself for reluctance, but she had not expected him to bare his teeth in such blatant mockery. Had he not been bewilderingly gentle with her ever since their wedding? Perhaps he truly found the mere thought of touching her that repulsive.
Swallowing her humiliation, Talia retorted in a chilling tone.
“How long do you imagine we can maintain this farce? The truth that we are not a real husband and wife will surface eventually, and I will become an even greater laughingstock than I am now. If you go on without an heir, your vassals will not remain silent either.”
Rushing the words out in a single breath, Talia let out a sharp, breathless laugh.
“Or is that what you are hoping for?”
The line of Varkas’s jaw tightened hard.
Ignoring the warning simmering in his eyes, Talia pressed on mockingly.
“If you hold out like this for a few years, people everywhere will clamor for you to dissolve the marriage and take a new Grand Duchess. Perhaps His Imperial Majesty will even pretend to relent and grant an annulment. Could it be that you meddled in Ayla’s betrothal because you intended to take her back then…?”
“Enough.”
The voice, honed to a razor edge, grated violently against her ears. Leaning down into her face, he spat out a low, menacing rasp.
“There is a limit to what I will stand here and endure.”
Talia knew she was crossing a line she should never touch. But she could not afford to step back.
Boring a gaze like a needle into his face, she raised her voice.
“If that is not the case, then heed my demand! You have no will of your own anyway, do you? You are nothing more than a puppet strung along by duty!”
“And are you not the Empress’s puppet?”
Varkas’s retort was laced with cold derision.
Every drop of blood drained from Talia’s face.
Looking down at her pale, frozen countenance, Varkas added quietly.
“I do not know what that woman used to provoke you, but I have no desire to serve as your breeding stud.”
With that, he straightened and reached for the coat he had tossed aside.
“Your Highness may use this bedchamber tonight.”
Talia watched his back as he turned toward the door, her eyes blank and hollow.
A violent chill washed over her, as though a bucket of icy water had been dumped over her head.
Shaking from head to toe with mortification, Talia lurched after him in a limping run.
She grabbed the cloth spanning his broad back and dragged him back with all her weight, feeling the dense, muscular wall of his frame lock rigid.
She threw herself against him. Yet his fortress-like body refused to budge. As she shoved him once more in a burst of bitter resentment, Varkas caught her shoulders.
A sharp groan broke from her lips under the bruising pressure of his grip. At the sound, he flinched and drew back his hands. Talia seized the opening and lunged directly into his chest. Finally, the iron wall gave way, tilting backward.
Talia drove him to the floor and straddled his waist. Her breath, torn ragged by the brief clash, rasped against her throat like grit.
Panting heavily, her chest heaving, Talia glared down at him with fiery eyes.
“You have no right to disobey me.”
A flicker of distortion cracked the man’s handsome face. Talia tore the words from her throat as if spitting blood.
“You swore you would do everything I asked. You swore you would do everything within your power!”
The hand that had risen to push her off paused, freezing in midair.
Clutching the fabric of his shirt as if wringing it dry, Talia hauled him upward.
The tremors wracking her frame grew more violent. She fought desperately not to plead, but the tears bleeding into her voice were beyond her control.
Locking her trembling jaw, Talia let out a desperate cry.
“Keep your word!”
Following the tremor of that shout, a suffocating silence crashed over the room.
Unable to bear looking directly into his eyes, Talia dropped her forehead against his chest, which rose and fell in slow, measured breaths.
A bead of sweat trickling from her temple caught near the corner of her eye before falling onto his shirt, soaking the fabric.
As she stared at the damp spot, a firm finger hooked under her chin. Her head was tilted back, her blurring sight filled with a face wearing an unreadable expression. Before she could fathom what it meant, hands pressed firmly against her shoulders, pushing her up.
“…Very well.”
Sitting up, Varkas let out a thick, gravelly breath. Talia met his gaze with wide, shuddering eyes. His tight Adam’s apple bobbed once. After a heavy silence, he spoke again, clarifying his surrender.
“I will do as Your Highness wishes.”
Even having wrung out the answer she sought, the shaking inside her only worsened. Talia wrapped her arms around her frame with twitching fingers. Then, a low, restrained voice pierced the quiet again.
“Just not tonight.”
Her head snapped up, glaring at him.
Varkas pressed on with an uncharacteristic edge of urgency.
“It has not even been a few weeks since you collapsed coughing blood. Once your health has fully recovered…”
“My body is fine!” Talia shouted, her voice cracked and rough.
“I will do this when I decide. And that is today. Right now.”
She felt his entire frame stiffen. Did he despise her for acting like a tyrant?
It did not matter. If she stepped back here, she would never be able to muster this resolve a second time.
Once this fever of madness cooled, she would retreat straight back behind the stone walls of her fortress.
It had to be this moment, while every last drop of courage was still burning in her veins.
“You cannot refuse.”
Something stirred in the depths of his eyes. Rage, or sheer disillusionment? No. It made no difference.
This… this was not love. It was neither passion nor longing. It was nothing more than a desperate struggle to survive. And for that, she had no reason to feel wretched.
END