“I—I don’t know all the details, but…”
The maid faltered, flustered, before continuing her hesitant explanation.
“I heard he had to be stationed at the Balto border for a while because of the conflict.”
“For a while… Just how long is…”
Talia trailed off, biting her lip. She had been the one to say she never wanted to see his face again. What right had she to ask such a thing?
As she stared blankly at the flowers beside her bed, the maid took in her mood and ventured to finish the answer.
“No set date was given, but… they said he doesn’t intend to stay away from the castle long. He plans to go back and forth between the encampment and here as the situation allows…”
A sigh of relief slipped from Talia before she could catch it. The moment she realized what she had done, a hollow laugh followed. She disgusted herself.
Looking down at the rain-soaked petals, Talia let out a dry, ragged chuckle and pressed the back of her hand against her stinging eyelids. The heat behind them felt like fire.
She understood without being told. He had left because of her. Rather than casting her out, he had chosen to walk away himself.
‘Why…’
The single question turned over and over in her head.
Why go this far?
Even if he took the Emperor’s offer and divorced her, no one would fault him. The marriage had been forced on him from the beginning.
She knew it well enough. Varkas had given her no cause for resentment. Her crippled leg, the child she had lost—that was entirely her own doing.
She knew what she should have said to him.
You did nothing wrong. Every piece of misfortune that broke over me was my own fault. So please, don’t carry this guilt. Don’t feel responsible for me.
Just throw someone like me away. Everyone else does. Even the ones who gave me life did. So why must you…
Her chest burned with an aching ache. A suffocating certainty took hold of her: she was doing something terribly, irreparably wrong.
Yet she had no idea how to make it right. She was not even certain she wanted to.
“Your Grace, are you unwell?”
The maid watched Talia’s dazed face and asked anxiously.
Talia pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead and gave a faint shake of her head.
“I’m fine. It’s only…”
She looked at the girl through a haze that blurred like mist, then shifted her eyes toward the rain-spattered window. The light drizzle from the afternoon had swollen into a fierce downpour, lashing violently against the glass pane.
He would be riding through that rain right now. She thought he might not have traveled very far yet.
Without knowing what she hoped to accomplish, Talia rose from the bed. The maid hurried forward, wide-eyed with alarm.
“Y-Your Grace? What is it?”
“Bring me my cloak.”
Her voice was low and firm, bearing an authority that brooked no argument. The girl, whose hands had hovered to stop her, froze where she stood.
Talia pressed sharply.
“Did you not hear me? Fetch my clothes.”
Looking close to tears, the maid hesitated before retrieving a heavy coat.
Talia threw it over her loose linen dress and stepped out into the dim corridor. The moment she dragged her limping leg forward, a broad shadow blocked her path.
“Where do you intend to go?”
An armored young soldier looked down at her with a stern face. Ever since the day she had tried to slip out of the estate, he had stood sentinel at her door like a jailer.
Talia met his gaze with a cold, piercing glare and let out a caustic laugh.
“Did the Grand Duke order you to keep me under house arrest in my own room?”
“His Grace commanded us never to take our eyes off the Grand Duchess, and to guard her with our lives.”
Talia’s expression flickered before her features hardened in disdain.
“Then carry out those orders and escort me. Do not presume to bar my way.”
She turned toward the stairs, but the soldier shifted to cut her off once more.
“That depends on where Your Grace intends to go.”
The man held his ground stubbornly.
“You may move freely anywhere inside the castle, but to step beyond the walls, you must have the Grand Duke’s permission.”
Talia glared at him, trembling with stifled fury. The young soldier did not yield an inch.
“I ask again. Where do you intend to go?”
“I…”
The words to say she was going to where Varkas was almost tore from her mouth, but she choked them down.
She had driven him away herself. What right did she have to pursue him now? What could she possibly say if she caught him?
Would she throw another childish tantrum, demanding he remain at her side even if it meant further political ruin?
Every scrap of will drained out of Talia at once, and a hollow breath escaped her lips.
“…I want to go up to the ramparts.”
The soldier looked at her with narrow suspicion, but he stepped aside. Having already granted that she was free to walk within the castle walls, he had no pretext left to hold her.
Talia walked straight down the stairs. She could sense the maid and the guard trailing behind her, but she did not spare either of them a backward glance as she crossed out of the keep.
Crossing the broad courtyard, she felt the uneasy stares prickling against her skin, as though every servant feared the Grand Duchess might take flight again. She ignored them and climbed the rain-slicked stone steps until the grey expanse of the plains, veiled in driving rain, opened before her.
There was no trace of the column of knights; they had departed long before.
She walked to the parapet and looked down blankly at the plains swallowed by the lashing squall. Unable to bear the sight any longer, the maid murmured cautiously.
“Your Grace, you’ll catch a chill in this weather. Please, let us go back inside…”
Talia lingered on the girl’s pale face, which was already damp on her account, and slowly turned back toward the stairs. At that moment, a plaintive cry drifted through the rain.
She froze, startled. For a second she feared her hallucinations had returned, but the startled look on the maid’s face told her the sound was real.
“What in the world is that?”
“The hunters must have dragged back some animal cubs.”
The soldier answered the maid’s question casually, casting a glance down toward the rear grounds.
“Pay it no mind, Your Grace. Let us head in.”
Ignoring his urging, Talia turned toward the origin of the whimpering.
As she moved along the parapet walkway, the sharp, terrified yelps grew clearer with every step.
For reasons she could not explain, her pulse hammered in her throat. She nearly tumbled down the flight of stairs leading to the rear courtyard.
In the overgrown rear grounds choked with thickets, she found five or six armed men gathered around a shallow pit. Those tossing things into the dirt stopped abruptly when they saw her.
“Your Grace, what brings you to a place like this…?”
One of them bowed his head in haste.
Talia brushed past his question and looked down into the trench. Three or four dark-furred wild dogs lay limp in the mud.
After a long, hollow silence, she demanded sharply,
“What are you doing?”
“We were disposing of these Dire Wolf cubs.”
A bearded soldier answered in a gruff voice.
“The vermin tore through a dozen of the estate’s horses all through winter. They bred at last, and we found these plump runts crawling in the woods. We were going to slit their throats where we stood, but we hauled them back hoping to dig out a few mana stones, and yet…”
The man spat a heavy sigh, snatched a dead cub from the mud, and threw it down into the hole.
“They’re too young. Carve them open and there’s nothing inside. So we’re burying the lot.”
With a sickening, wet thud, the small carcass sank into the muddy water.
Talia instinctively recoiled, but the crying that had momentarily died down rose again, shrill and desperate.
She snapped her head around. Her eyes widened as she saw another soldier pulling a bundle of grey fur out of a burlap sack.
The man drew a knife against the pup’s throat. Before thought could intervene, Talia threw herself forward.
Caught off balance by the sudden shove, the soldier let out a short yelp and tumbled into the dirt.
Ignoring the man staring up at her in shock, she scooped the trembling grey creature from the earth. The moment her hands closed around it, the pitiful wailing died as if by magic.
Talia looked down at the rain-drenched young wolf.
Beneath pale, faintly luminous lashes, two clear blue eyes looked back at her. Talia caught her breath when she saw the silver flecks scattered within their depths.
“Your Grace, what is the meaning of this?”
The guard who had shadowed her spoke with open irritation.
Without looking his way, Talia answered quietly.
“I will raise this one.”
A low murmur passed among the men. She knew without checking that they were staring at her as if she had lost her mind. Perhaps she had.
It did not matter in the slightest.
She parted the heavy wool of her cloak and tucked the small animal against her chest.
The pup never took its gaze from her face. Seeing an ache like desperate yearning inside those tear-slicked, lucid eyes, a soft smile touched Talia’s lips.
“From now on, your name is Khan.”
The tiny, down-covered ears flicked.
Watching with sudden warmth in her eyes, Talia buried her face against the damp fur and whispered,
“We will stay together now.”
END