Ch#155
Tiuran swallowed hard, her throat dry.
Surely, he hasn’t stayed awake without a single wink of sleep from the day the Grand Duchess lost consciousness until now?
As she poured water into the basin, Tiuran stole a glance at him, but she quickly dismissed the thought.
A normal human being couldn’t possibly look that composed after going without sleep for so long. Since she and Marisen had been taking turns nursing the Grand Duchess, it was likely just a matter of timing that she always saw him awake.
“The towel.”
While she was lost in thought for a moment, the Grand Duke extended his hand toward her.
Tiuran hurriedly pulled out a clean towel, soaked it thoroughly in the ice-cold water, and placed it in the man’s sculpted hand.
Gripping the cloth, the man immediately began to cool his wife’s forehead with careful movements. His touch was so gentle, it was as if he were handling a delicate piece of glass art.
In truth, the woman lying limp like a corpse looked as though she might shatter at any moment. Tiuran wondered if it was that very anxiety that kept the man from averting his eyes from the Grand Duchess for even a second.
After a moment’s hesitation, Tiuran murmured in a small, crawling voice.
“Her Grace is recovering her strength bit by bit. She is no longer in a dangerous condition, so perhaps you could leave the nursing to us now and…”
“It seems Daren has started whining to the servants as well.”
Tiuran fell silent at the icy tone.
Carefully wiping the sweat from the woman’s neck with the cool side of the flipped towel, the man added calmly.
“If he asks, tell him the Grand Duke said this.”
After a brief pause, the Grand Duke finished his words slowly.
“Why are men so incompetent that they cannot endure even a few days of my absence eating up the provisions in my house?”
Even though the words weren’t directed at her, Tiuran felt a chill run down her spine.
Without even glancing at her, the man gave a slight nod of his head.
“You are in the way. Leave.”
“……Then, I shall be waiting in the next room. Please call for me whenever you need anything.”
Tiuran carefully backed away from the bed. All the while, the man’s gaze remained fixed on his sleeping wife’s face.
The dim light of the late afternoon filtering through the window faintly illuminated his features. He looked incredibly solitary and lonely, as if he had never displayed that frost-like dignity just moments ago.
After stealing a look at that face shrouded in deep fatigue, Tiuran quietly opened the door and stepped out.
Time flowed on relentlessly.
Talia felt the wounds on her body healing little by little. The throbbing pain in her abdomen, which had felt like a threat never to forget what she had lost, grew faint, and the intermittent bleeding stopped before long.
The pain in her back and pelvis remained, but it was incomparable to the suffering she had endured during her pregnancy. The constant numbness in her legs had improved, and with her body feeling lighter, moving about became easier.
But for some reason, that fact only made her more miserable. It was hard to accept a body that tried to return to its former state as if it had never carried a child.
Her mind was still anchored to that night, yet her body moved toward life of its own accord. The absurdity of it made her let out a hollow laugh from time to time.
She couldn’t understand why everyone around her was so anxious about her health. Her body was a stubborn thing that clung to life even after such ordeals. Even after her legs were crushed, even after losing a precious child she had birthed in a pain that felt like her insides were being torn out, her life trudged on.
Even if she were left to rot, it was certain that her body would persistently survive a reality that was no better than hell.
So, please, just leave me alone.
“Eat.”
Talia glared with intense loathing at the man holding out a bowl of thin porridge.
When he first urged her to eat, she had simply remained unresponsive.
When the man didn’t give up, she had eventually overturned the bowl. At that, he had immediately ordered fresh food to be prepared and attempted to feed her through their old method.
However, there was no trace of the former heat in the act of forcing food into her mouth. She could only sense a vague, dutiful sense of mission, like a mother bird ceaselessly bringing food to its chick.
Absurdly, Talia felt a sharp pang at that realization. It felt as if his change was a reminder of her complete failure as a woman, and it tore her heart apart.
That stinging pain drove her even more mad. She couldn’t tolerate the fact that she still had a heart left to ache because of this man.
Talia squeezed out her remaining strength and pushed him away. Then, she picked up the spoon with her own hand. She ate the food and drank the medicine as if swallowing down her desire to simply die and disappear.
Once again, Talia gave up her futile resistance and picked up the spoon. She swallowed the food diligently to escape the watchful eyes that monitored her like a jailer.
As soon as she finished the meal, he handed her the medicine. After forcing that down her throat as well, she leaned her exhausted body against the cushions. Then, as if it were natural, Barkas lay down beside her. It was to hold her back all night long, as she would sometimes crawl out of bed to head toward the grave.
Talia, who had been quietly enduring the shackle-like touch wrapping around her body, suddenly made a request.
“……Burn some sleep-grass.”
The man, who was pulling a thick duvet up over her shoulders, looked at her with unreadable eyes.
When he didn’t move, Talia moistened her parched, dry lips and added.
“I can’t sleep deeply. I need the medicine.”
After looking down at her in silence for a long while with a calm face, the man finally rose.
She watched his back as he moved slowly, then turned her gaze to the window where the sun was beginning to set.
The sky, once a vivid orange, was gradually stained a deep blood-red. But soon, even that was swallowed by the thickening darkness.
Talia closed her eyelids, breathing in the scent of the pungent smoke. The man, who had returned to the bed before she knew it, pulled her to his chest and carefully cradled her head.
As her senses dulled, his touch no longer felt as agonizing as before.
Talia willingly waded into the quagmire of sleep. But the moment of peace did not last long.
Perhaps she had developed a tolerance to the drug, for she opened her eyes just as the window was turning a deep indigo. It was a time when the edge of the sun, not yet over the hill, was heating the rim of the castle walls red.
Talia pushed herself up shakily and stared at the end of the day approaching outside the window.
How long had she been staring at the distant sky like that?
Suddenly, she realized what had jolted her consciousness awake. A thin crying sound was mixed into the faint scream of the wind.
She let out a hollow laugh. It was a hallucination she had heard until she was sick of it over the past few days. One would think she’d be used to it by now, but why did her heart feel like it was being crushed every single time?
Talia’s shoulders trembled slightly before she clamped her hands over her ears. But the crying echoing in her head only grew louder. It was as if the dead baby were accusing her. Did it wail like that every night because it resented her for not giving birth to it whole? The thought made her feel like she was going insane.
Talia stood up to bolt outside. Then, realizing someone was holding her waist, she turned her head with a start.
She saw the man sprawled out, one side of his face buried in the pillow.
Even with her vision dizzy as if her senses were broken, she stared blankly down at that face, which was strangely vivid.
The sight of him sleeping so deeply that she wondered if he might be dead was unfamiliar. Was this not the man who always rose alertly if she moved even slightly?
Though the strength in the arm binding her was the same as ever, the man’s consciousness seemed completely severed.
……Is it because of the sleep-grass?
She blinked blankly. He was a man who had shown no more than a slight drowsiness even when sleep-grass was burned in the bedroom.
Perhaps he was exhausted from watching over her.
Talia closely observed his features, which looked somehow sharp even in his defenseless state, and then, as if drawn by something, she reached out toward that haggard face.
