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He stared down intently, waiting until the wolf showed no further signs of aggression before finally turning back to her.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“…I was only trying to show you that Khan isn’t dangerous.”
She murmured the words awkwardly.
Varkas, poised to deliver a sharp rebuke, fell silent when he saw the flush creeping up her neck.
All at once, the realization struck him: it had been nearly two years since he had stood this close to her.
As though she felt it too, her voice trembled.
“Khan would never hurt me. Stop making a scene and put me down.”
He glanced once more at the Dire Wolf, still braced on edge, before setting her down a short distance away.
She stepped back immediately. Yet she went no further, scanning him up and down from close enough that they could still feel each other’s breath.
The peculiar light in her eyes made his stomach churn.
She seemed somewhat anxious, but the bitter hostility that used to consume her was gone.
Nor did she look as though the mere sight of him brought her agony. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on him without blinking, as if trying to commit every line of him to memory.
He, too, stared into her face, framed by damp golden hair.
Her blue eyes, stripped of their former sorrow, held an enchanting glow in the summer light. Her cheeks were flushed with healthy color, fuller than when he had last seen her.
‘She looked just like this when she was carrying my child.’
The moment the thought surfaced, a sensation like swallowing fire and ice seized his throat.
His features tightening, Varkas reached for her again on sheer impulse.
Right then, the beast prowling nearby shook itself violently.
Taking the full brunt of the spray like a sudden downpour, Varkas glared down at the wolf with a dark scowl. The creature feigned complete innocence, wagging its tail at its mistress as if nothing had happened.
“Let us return to the castle first, as you said.”
Talia, every bit as soaked as he was, let out a soft sigh and turned away. The Dire Wolf fell into step beside her as naturally as breathing.
Varkas watched in disbelief, then drew a heavy breath and followed quietly behind them.
As they neared the main hall, Lucas and a flock of servants who had been waiting rushed out to meet them.
“Did you go for a swim, Brother?”
Lucas stared in sheer bewilderment, taking him in from head to toe.
Varkas ignored him and strode straight into the keep.
Talia, who had stepped in before him, was already drying the wolf with a large towel before the kitchen hearth. Varkas went up to her and took the towel from her hands.
She was a woman who had lived her entire life being waited on hand and foot; there were likely only a handful of occasions she had even washed herself. The sight of her personally grooming a magical beast turned his stomach.
“Leave the wolf to the servants and go up to your quarters. I want to hear your account of everything that has occurred.”
“No. Khan hates being touched by anyone but me.”
“Did you not just insist this beast poses no danger to others?”
His tone was cold.
“If that holds true, leaving him to the servants for a moment should present no issue.”
Unable to find a retort, Talia looked down at the wolf.
Catching the hesitation in her eyes, Varkas pressed sharply.
“Are you not entirely certain yourself, Your Highness?”
“That isn't true!”
Talia snapped defensively, then shot him a sullen glare.
“And stop calling him ‘the wolf.’ I told you his name is Khan. How would you like it if someone went around calling you ‘human, human’ all day? If you mean to address him, use his proper name.”
· · ·
He swallowed back the sigh rising in his throat.
Most nobles of the East would take offense if they learned the Grand Duchess, a daughter of Osiria, had bestowed the name of the ancient Khan tribe upon a beast. Had she demanded it knowing full well what it meant?
Weary of his wife’s habit of stirring up friction over something as trivial as a name, he tossed the towel to a waiting servant.
“Look after that wolf.”
He turned to lead her from the kitchen, but Talia caught his sleeve.
“I said his name is Khan. Say it properly. Khan.”
Seeing the desperation in her face, Varkas frowned.
He could not fathom why she clung so fiercely to a wolf’s name, but if it mattered that much to her, he saw no harm in indulging her.
The word left him like a sigh.
“Khan.”
At once, her face lit up. She tugged him closer to the beast, her voice bright with excitement.
“Do you want to feel him? His fur is remarkably soft.”
Varkas looked down at the creature resting quietly before the hearth, paws tucked beneath its chest.
With its haunches settled and its forelegs braced, it had the look of a loyal hound. Yet he could plainly read the fierce animosity simmering in the blue eyes watching him.
“Go on, touch him.”
Oblivious to the killing intent leaking from the beast, she urged him on with utter earnestness.
Urged forward by the strange hope in her eyes, he reached out toward the creature. It seemed almost certain he would be bitten, yet he found himself unable to refuse her.
Braced to jerk his hand back at the first sign of movement, he carefully ran his fingers over the wolf’s damp muzzle. A murderous gleam flared in the beast's eyes. Remarkably, it neither bared its fangs nor growled, seemingly reining in its rage purely for its mistress's sake.
“See? He is gentle, isn't he?”
She sounded utterly triumphant.
He forced down a bitter smile and drew his hand back.
The creature plainly harbored a violent streak, but it possessed enough sense and restraint to read the situation.
‘…Yet there is no telling when its temper might turn.’
Handling it as a pup was one thing, but now that it was fully grown, keeping it in check would not be so simple.
Varkas lingered on the enormous wolf a moment longer in thought, then turned away.
“Let us go up to your room.”
The light in her upturned eyes dimmed at his words.
Had she wanted him to show more enthusiasm for her pet? The flash of disappointment across her face unsettled him, but he kept his composure and stepped out of the kitchen.
“You should change out of those wet clothes first.”
Reaching the bedchamber they had once shared, Varkas spoke with measured courtesy as he guided her inside.
“Call your maid and change into dry garments. I shall see to myself and return shortly.”
Lingering by the door, she gave him an unreadable look before nodding.
He moved to the adjoining room and stripped off his soaked armor along with the wyvern-leather arming doublet beneath.
Servants soon arrived with fresh wash water and clean attire. He washed quickly and pulled on a fresh tunic and Eastern cotton trousers.
Trading his mud-spattered boots for clean ones, he returned to her chamber. Talia was already waiting, dressed impeccably in an elegant blue gown, carrying herself with calm grace.
He halted at the threshold, taking her in. It was the first time he had seen her dressed with such care since the night she had come to his bed.
Did she always dress like this now? Or was it…
“Why are you standing there instead of coming in to sit?”
Settled comfortably in a deep cushioned armchair, Talia gave him an indifferent look.
END