Chapter 16
16
She glared at Senevia with eyes full of suspicion.
What was she plotting, trying to force Talia to accompany her? The most that child could do was annoy her with trivial pranks.
However, Senevia was not the type of person to mobilize the Emperor for something so fruitless. There had to be another scheme at play.
Aila spoke up in a somewhat stiff tone.
“It is customary for a woman of the Imperial family to embark on a pilgrimage when a marriage is imminent. Why are you trying to send that child now, of all times?”
“Talia might be getting married soon as well,” Senevia said brightly.
Aila furrowed her brow. She had never heard a single rumor of a marriage proposal for Talia.
No matter her illegitimate origins, Talia was an Imperial Princess whose name was recorded in the Imperial genealogy. She was not in a position where a marriage could be arranged in total secrecy. This had to be a story fabricated just to force her onto this trip.
As she glared at the Empress with such doubt, Barkas’s cold voice rang out.
“The timing of this marriage is quite a coincidence.”
Senevia did not lose her composure despite the blatant sarcasm.
“It is a wonderful thing, as it seems the Imperial family will have back-to-back celebrations. Though no official engagement has been made since the proposal arrived only recently, His Majesty and I are viewing it quite favorably.”
A trace of a sneer touched the corners of Barkas’s mouth.
“May I ask who the lucky protagonist is?”
“You’ve likely heard the name at least once. It is Verdein Serian, the head of the Count Serian family. A formal letter of proposal arrived a few days ago.”
Senevia spoke with a benevolent smile on her lips.
“It has been quite some time since the child had her coming-of-age ceremony, so she is at an age to marry. I thought it was a suitable match.”
Aila swallowed a hollow laugh that threatened to burst out. Verdein Serian was one of the Empress’s most ardent followers.
According to rumors, he had once held the record for being the longest-serving lover of Duchess Taren. Was she in her right mind, marrying her daughter off to such a man?
Nausea surged within her as she recalled the sight of Talia appearing at the banquet hall with Count Serian. The mother who would marry her daughter to her own former lover, and the daughter who followed such a mother’s will—both were surely insane.
“Since that is how matters stand, hasten the preparations for the child’s journey.”
The Emperor gave a firm instruction as if to end the conversation and gestured for them to withdraw.
Barkas, who had been looking up at his sovereign with an inscrutable expression, bowed silently and slowly rose from his seat. He then turned and exited the Audience Chamber.
Aila, who had been glaring at Senevia with wary eyes, turned to look at him in bewilderment. She hadn’t expected Barkas to withdraw so submissively.
After paying her respects to the Emperor, she hurried after him.
“Are you really going to take Talia along? Her marriage is nothing but a plausible excuse. Senevia is definitely plotting something terrible.”
“I suppose so,” he replied indifferently, his boots thudding as he descended the stairs.
Aila stared at his retreating back with a dazed face before gathering her skirts and quickly catching up to him. She grabbed his arm and cried out in a somewhat agitated tone.
“Is that all? Even though we don’t know what the Empress might do using Talia, you’re just blindly…!”
“What is it you wish for me to do?”
The man stopped in his tracks and sent her a bleak look. Aila flinched. Only then did she realize his mood had hit rock bottom.
He was the same man who had been smiling at her just an hour ago. But now he had become a stranger again, looking down at her with a frigid gaze. He spoke mockingly.
“Do you want me to rebel against His Majesty’s command?”
“I just…”
“He is the sovereign of this Empire, and I am one who has sworn loyalty to the Imperial family. From the beginning, there has been no path other than obedience. Is that not what you royals have consistently demanded of nobles like me?”
Aila stiffened at the unexpectedly sharp words. The man, looking down at her with dry eyes, turned back and began to walk again.
Seeing his back grow distant without a moment’s hesitation, a sudden fear rushed over her. Like she had when she was a young girl, Aila ran to him and threw her arms around his firm waist.
“I’m sorry! I was just anxious and took it out on you. So please, don’t turn away so coldly.”
The tension slowly drained from the man’s body as he stood still. He let out a faint sigh and turned around to hold her. Then, just as he had in their childhood, he gently stroked her hair.
“There is no need to be anxious. No matter what plot the Empress devises, no harm will ever come to Your Highness.”
She lifted her head to look up at his face. The man who had turned away with the face of a stranger had already returned to being a loyal knight. Aila felt her scattered emotions snap back into place in an instant.
A man who could easily shake her and then calm her with a few half-hearted words… In front of him, even her pride, dignity, and authority as a princess were futile.
Aila clung to his cool embrace—one that never grew warm despite the decade they had spent together—and desperately gazed into his pale blue eyes.
What was this man looking at? Those hollow eyes without a bottom always seemed to be wandering somewhere far away.
“I promised the former Empress that I would protect you both to the best of my ability.”
He spoke as he tucked a few strands of hair clinging to Aila’s cheek behind her ear.
“I intend to keep that promise no matter what happens. So there is nothing for Your Highness to worry about.”
After searching his face for a long time, Aila finally nodded.
Yes, as long as this man was on their side, there was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
After trimming my broken fingernail, I felt quite empty.
How many more weeks would I have to wait for it to grow long enough to sink deep into flesh? Talia looked down at the pink nail that was just beginning to peek over her fingertip with an anxious gaze.
The pride of having wounded the Crown Prince did not last long. Her noble brother would have sought out a priest immediately to have his hand perfectly healed. On the other hand, she had vainly lost the secret weapon she had painstakingly cultivated for weeks.
‘I wanted to use it on Aila, if possible…’
How many times had she imagined digging her nails into those verdant eyes whenever that woman looked at Barkas?
Talia scratched at the wound left by the broken nail.
The barely formed scab was torn away, and droplets of blood welled up. Her nerves grew increasingly frayed. After staring blankly at the reddening nail, she put her index finger in her mouth, lightly sucked away the blood, and stood up from the windowsill.
It was particularly difficult to catch a glimpse of Barkas today. There was no longer any reason to stay glued to the window, enduring the stinging sunlight.
She trudged across the room, poured cold water into the basin on the shelf, and lightly washed her sweat-dampened face. Just then, a knock was heard. It seemed the Nanny had brought snacks again.
Talia wiped her face with a clean linen and called out listlessly.
“Come in.”
However, the person who appeared through the door was not the quarter-dwarf with short stature and plump limbs, but a small boy with dark reddish-brown curly hair and bright, glowing green eyes.
