136
Talia looked back and forth with open suspicion between the head maid’s rigid, solemn face and the maids standing behind her.
“You say that now, but you’re planning to report everything behind my back, aren’t you?”
“How could we? We will not utter a single word until Your Grace chooses to speak of it yourself, so please do not worry.”
The head maid gave her solemn promise, her spine held straight.
Talia looked up at her through narrowed eyes, then gave an aloof toss of her head.
“Fine. Now, everyone get out.”
“Have you already forgotten what the priestess said? You must remain in complete rest for the time being. From now on, designated maids will stay by your side to attend you.”
Speaking with brisk finality, the head maid called forward the two maids standing behind her.
“Brisa, Yvonne.”
The two girls answered immediately, stepping forward to the edge of the bed.
Talia scrutinized their youthful faces. They were young maids who had occasionally helped her dress or brought her meals.
“They are the quickest and most capable among the staff. Keep them close and use them as you see fit.”
The two girls bowed their heads in unison.
Talia watched them with an unimpressed glare, then issued a cool warning.
“If you get in my way even once, you’re gone.”
“We will do our utmost to serve Your Grace without causing the slightest discomfort,” the maid named Brisa answered in a clear, steady voice.
Talia gave a quiet snort and turned away in bed.
At her silent dismissal, everyone except the two maids filed out of the room. The quiet did not last long, however. Before long, the healing sorceress arrived.
“Congratulations, Your Grace.”
The sorceress approached with her usual composed expression, offering a careful greeting.
Talia fixed her with a suspicious stare.
“Did you truly have no idea I was pregnant all this time?”
“I had my suspicions. However, I believed it best to speak only when certain,” the woman replied evenly.
Talia let out a cold scoff.
“You believed? Since when do you have the right to pass judgment over my body?”
“…I was merely concerned that Your Grace might be disappointed,” the healing sorceress said in defense, casting her gaze down.
“Were you not already feeling burdened by the matter of conception? Misdiagnoses occur easily in the earliest stages, and given how frail Your Grace’s health was, I intended to observe for a few more days before speaking.”
Talia’s face clouded over.
“Is my condition that bad?”
A brief flicker of hesitation crossed the healing sorceress’s face.
Glancing at the two maids waiting beside the bed, she began to speak in the elven tongue.
“Your Grace’s constitution makes pregnancy inherently difficult. Your vitality is weak, and because your pelvis shifted slightly from the accident, you must be exceptionally cautious even after conceiving.”
Though a few of the words were unfamiliar to Talia, their meaning was unmistakably clear.
Talia went pale, her lips pressing together into a hard line. Confirming through her expression that she had understood, the healing sorceress continued.
“That is why I held my tongue until now. I did not want the Shearkan family to know. If something were to happen to the child, the blame would fall entirely upon Your Grace.”
Talia swallowed hard and stammered back in halting elven.
“A priestess from the Kalmor Cathedral examined me. Everyone must know by now.”
“I have just spoken with her on the pretext of seeking her counsel. Fortunately, she does not seem to have discerned anything regarding Your Grace’s constitution.”
The healing sorceress let out a faint sigh and took Talia’s hand, speaking with quiet urgency.
“Even so, please avoid being examined by others as much as possible from now on. If Your Grace successfully gives birth to a son this time, there will be no issue… but the worst must always be kept in mind.”
The corners of Talia’s mouth tightened. Her mood, which had felt light and dizzy as though she were drunk, plunged into darkness in an instant.
Biting her lower lip, she managed a slight nod.
“I understand what you mean.”
“Do not worry excessively. I will attend to Your Grace’s health with even greater care.”
The sorceress patted the back of Talia’s cold hand as if offering comfort, then switched back to the common tongue of the Empire.
“Now, allow me to look at your leg.”
Opening the leather satchel she had carried under her arm, she took out the scar salve and the pain remedies Talia took regularly.
Talia glanced at the maids with an uneasy look. Reading her reluctance to expose her legs, the two girls immediately drew a standing screen around the bed.
Relieved by their quick tact, she carefully swung her legs over the edge of the mattress.
When she gathered up the hem of her heavy skirt, raw, reddish scars showed through the loosely wound bandages. They had been wrapped loosely because the skin was irritated and weeping.
The healing sorceress gently unwrapped them, smoothed the salve over the ruined flesh, and wrapped the leg anew in clean linen. Then, after brewing a cup of medicinal tea to calm her mind and body, she quietly stepped out of the bedroom.
Finally left in peace, Talia curled herself deep beneath the furs.
She was with child. She had achieved what she set out to do. Why, then, was she so terrified?
If the child in her belly was a girl, she would have to start everything all over again. And what if she could never conceive again?
Fortune had favored her this once, but there was no guarantee of a second time. Worse yet, if it became known that her body could barely carry a child, the eastern nobility would do everything in their power to drag her down from her place as Grand Duchess.
At worst, she would be locked away in some monastery. Even there, safety was an illusion. Gareth would find a way to butcher her, and her mother would never bother protecting a daughter who was no longer of any use….
Talia caught herself, forcing a halt to the runaway spiral of dread.
It was too soon to assume the worst. Whatever happened, she had conceived as planned. If she could only deliver an heir for the Shearkan bloodline, her survival was assured.
Forcing down her anxiety, Talia choked down the bowl of porridge the maids brought and lay back down to sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun had sunk low.
Gazing out at the darkening sky framed by the window, Talia sat up at the sound of heavy footsteps.
Varkas was entering the bedchamber earlier than usual.
“How are you feeling?”
Varkas tossed his mantle carelessly over a chair and strode toward the bed. Having just washed in the knights’ shared bath, he brought with him the sharp scent of soap and mint.
“Just… the same as always.”
Talia glanced briefly at his damp, flaxen hair, then looked away, unable to settle her eyes on him.
He sat on the edge of the mattress and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, his brow knitting slightly.
“You still have a slight fever.”
“It’s only because I sat too close to the hearth.”
Talia cleared her throat self-consciously and rushed to change the subject.
“More importantly, why are you back so early? The steward told me you’d be late with your meetings….”
“I obtained what Your Grace asked for and came straight back.”
Varkas reached into his finely embroidered tunic and produced a small wrapped parcel.
Talia stared at it blankly. His long, scarred fingers deftly peeled back the leather wrap to reveal half a dozen red berries nestled in crumpled paper.
“The flesh is firm and they aren’t very sweet, but they said nothing better can be found right now. I placed an order through the Lacasim merchants, so we should receive better stock within a month. Make do with these until then.”
Talia looked at him, stunned.
She had demanded them, yes, but winter had already set in. She knew better than anyone how impossible it was to procure strawberries in this freezing northern land, even for the Emperor himself.
“Will you try one?”
Varkas picked up a strawberry and held it out to her.
Talia stared blankly at the vivid, alluring red fruit before slowly parting her lips.
The small fruit slipped into her mouth. She rolled it gently against the tip of her tongue and bit down. A sharp tartness burst across her palate, followed by a faint sweetness that brought a sudden sting to the back of her eyes.
“How is it?”
Varkas asked, his thumb lightly sweeping a drop of juice from her lip.
A sudden lump rose in her throat; she cast her eyes down to avoid his look.
It was delicious enough to bring tears to her eyes. Sweeter than anything she had ever tasted in her life.
“…It’s not bad.”
END