“And if I don’t forgive you?”
His voice suddenly dropped.
Talia felt her shoulder muscles knot tight, and she bit her lower lip.
Reflected in his blue eyes, drawn close enough to touch, was her own face, taut with unease.
He idly wound a lock of her hair around his finger, playing with the strand as he spoke, his voice entirely unbothered.
“Will you come find me and scold me again, just like today?”
The heat flushing her cheeks crept down to her neck and the tips of her ears. There were no nerves in her hair, yet her scalp prickled as though his teeth had grazed the nape of her neck.
Hiding every trace of her trembling composure, Talia forced a scowl, hoping the flush would pass for anger.
“Yes. If you come back injured again, I won’t let it pass. I’ll make your life a living hell.”
For an instant, the corner of his mouth ticked up.
Talia’s eyes widened, but that faint shadow of a smile vanished at once.
He rose unhurriedly and took up his discarded shirt. Sliding his arms into the linen sleeves, he answered in his usual flat tone.
“Since you’re threatening me so severely, I suppose I must be exceptionally careful from now on.”
Talia glared at him, irritated.
“You aren't taking me seriously at all, are you?”
“I am taking you very seriously,” Varkas replied smoothly, buttoning his shirt. “Is this not about how this body now belongs to Your Grace, and must be treated with care to avoid even a scratch?”
“I didn’t say it like that!”
“You said it exactly like that.”
Talia sprang up from her seat.
“I’m leaving.”
After shooting him another glare, she limped toward the door, only for him to catch her wrist.
Talia started to shove him away, but her hand flinched at the feel of the bandages beneath his thin shirt. Fearing she might have hurt him, she searched his face, but Varkas simply drew her back toward the bed.
“You haven’t given me my medicine yet.”
His warm breath tickled her forehead.
Talia glared, her face burning. Varkas wore an indifferent expression, as though he were merely asking for what was due.
Surely he hadn’t gotten the absurd idea that taking medicine mouth-to-mouth was normal? While she fretted over that ridiculous possibility, he pulled open a drawer and took out a small vial.
“Here.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and wound an arm around her waist, keeping her from slipping away.
Talia looked down at him in disbelief; he had grown strangely brazen lately. He tilted his head slightly.
“Do you dislike it?”
“…Who said I disliked it?”
Feigning reluctance, she took the vial and uncorked it, revealing a deep purple liquid within.
She lifted it to her nose. Instead of the sharp bitterness of Mandrake, it smelled of heavy honey and a cool trace of peppermint.
“Is this really the right medicine?”
“It is. It is an agent to purify the blood, obtained because it neutralizes demonic poison.”
Despite the explanation, her suspicion did not fade.
“Did that healing sorceress give this to you? Can she really be trusted? If she prescribes the wrong thing again…”
“I received it from Daren,” Varkas cut in. “Though if you are that concerned, you need not put it to your lips.”
He reached to take the vial back.
Talia instinctively tucked it behind her back.
“Who said I wouldn’t? I was only worried that…”
She bit her tongue, catching herself before she gave too much away, and searched his face. Fortunately, he did not seem to realize it was his body she feared for.
Varkas watched her, his brow furrowed, and spoke gravely.
“Do not worry; that healing sorceress’s medicine will never touch Your Grace’s lips again. After what happened, she was relieved of her primary duties.”
“You should be careful too! What do you mean ‘relieved,’ when she is tending to the Grand Duke himself?!”
As she let out a sharp scoff, he gave a quiet sigh.
“I summoned her this once as an exception. There is no one in the East more versed in pharmacology than she is. She has cured wounds magic could not touch, so I merely entrusted the injury to her until the venom clears.”
His calm words only tightened the knot in her chest.
The image of the healing sorceress rose in her mind.
A young woman with wide, clear doe eyes.
Though she knew Varkas had never spared a second glance for the renowned beauties of the Imperial Palace, let alone someone of low birth, the prickle of unease would not leave her.
To him, most people were little more than breathing fixtures.
Even so, since childhood, Talia had never been able to stomach other women hovering near him. She had turned out every maid who ever lingered with her gaze on him.
In the end, she gave in to that ugly jealousy once more.
“I do not trust her. One mistake turns into two, and two turn into three. What were you thinking, putting your body in her hands?”
Varkas stared intently at her face before slowly nodding.
“If you wish it, I will have her sent away from the castle soon.”
Her guard dropped at his immediate compliance, and she snapped back.
“Who asked you to go that far? That will only make me the villain again. People will say I’m a spiteful wretch who drove out a loyal subject of the Grand Duchy.”
His brow furrowed slightly as he regarded her.
‘Since when did you care about your reputation?’ That had to be what he was thinking.
Talia’s eyes hardened.
“I will allow the treatment for now. But the entire thing must happen before my eyes. If I catch you alone with that woman when I am not around…”
She cut herself off, realizing how plainly she was baring her jealousy.
Glancing at his face, she added hurriedly,
“If something happens to you, my standing becomes precarious too. This is about my own security.”
His brow furrowed deeper at her scattered excuses. He studied her closely, as if trying to untangle her thoughts, before answering after a heavy silence.
“If it sets your mind at ease, I will do as you say.”
His obedient answer only stoked her anxiety.
She bit her lip, her eyes shifting away.
Why was he humoring her every demand? Was it merely because she was his wife, and he was treating her well out of obligation?
Or had he begun to care for her, even a little? Was that why he wanted her close?
She chewed on those questions and swallowed them down. To ask was to beg, and she would never stoop so low.
‘I expect nothing from you.’ While she clung to that frayed lie, Varkas pulled her onto his lap.
Talia drew herself inward, careful not to graze his bandages, though he seemed indifferent to the wound.
Holding her back firmly, he took the vial from her hand.
“Open your mouth.”
Without thinking, she obeyed, and he tipped the glass vial gently against her lips.
A syrup so sweet it felt as though it might dissolve her tongue seeped into her mouth.
Looking down at her with darkened eyes, Varkas leaned in, his tongue sweeping the syrup that gathered in her mouth.
Like a cat lapping at milk, he toyed against the soft walls of her mouth before delving deeper, persistent and deliberate.
Talia’s arms wound around his neck of their own accord. The sheer weight of their mouths meeting made her head swim.
“Ah…”
Varkas finally drew back after savoring the scant drop of liquid. As she caught her breath, the glass rim touched her lower lip again.
Following his wordless prompt, she parted her lips, letting the sweet draught seep in once more. Naturally, his tongue followed immediately after.
The kiss, begun under the guise of medicine, did not end until the twilight was swallowed by night.
“…When will the wound heal completely?”
Talia asked quietly, catching her breath with her head resting on his uninjured shoulder.
His gaze, dark as the deep sea, settled on her face. A low, slightly raspy murmur brushed her forehead.
“Four days.”
His long fingers smoothed the loose hair sticking to her face. She felt the heavy weight of his gaze linger on her sweat-dampened neck.
He added,
“If the medicine works well, it will be finished in three.”
Unable to meet his gaze, she lowered her eyelashes, hiding her eyes.
END