Ch#178
Even now, the memory felt like a raw wound festering inside him.
Though she was born illegitimate, she had been raised as a noble princess of the Empire.
All her life, she had never spared a glance for clothes or jewelry that weren’t of the finest quality, and she had been fastidious to the point of obsession regarding cleanliness. Such a woman had tried to sleep on a pile of dusty straw, looking like a tattered wreck.
Simply because she did not want to be near him.
He forcibly wrenched his gaze away from her face, where it had been fixed. He reminded himself inwardly: he must not read too much into her sudden change in attitude.
Over time, perhaps her pain had been worn down little by little. As the agony of losing the child healed, her resentment toward him must have softened to some degree.
But that did not necessarily mean she now desired to be with him.
So, stop these useless thoughts.
“Yesterday…”
Startled from his reverie by the sudden voice, Barkas turned his gaze from the window.
The blue eyes that had been staring intently outside were now observing him.
“Where did you sleep yesterday?”
His brows knitted at the abrupt question, but only for a moment before he answered mechanically.
“I slept in the bedroom attached to the office.”
“From now on, sleep in your own bedroom.”
For a second, his train of thought ground to a halt. He stared at her with a stiff expression.
Talia, who had been nonchalantly fiddling with the metal ornaments on her belt, added disinterestedly, “If you keep sleeping there, the servants will start whispering that the Grand Duchess kicked the Grand Duke out of his own bedroom.”
He furrowed his brow.
In truth, he felt as though he had been kicked out, but he didn’t voice the thought.
Talia continued bluntly, tugging at the belt ornament with enough force to nearly rip it off.
“I’m going to use my original room, so you use yours from now on. The war is over, so you’ll be staying at Raedgo Castle permanently. The Grand Duke can’t live in a study forever.”
“Do not concern yourself with me. I have so much backlogged official business to attend to that I won’t be spending much time in the bedroom anyway.”
“Do you run the entire Grand Duchy by yourself?”
She snapped at him suddenly.
“A man who just returned after rotting on the battlefield for two years—what ‘official business’ could be so pressing?”
He swallowed a sigh and explained in a calm tone.
“There are tasks that neither deputies nor vassals can handle on my behalf. Having been away for so long, there are many matters I must personally grasp.”
“Still, you need to sleep properly! Other nobles are busy drinking and making merry with hunts and banquets, so why are you the only one working like this?”
“A significant number of those nobles who spend their time so recklessly end up facing financial ruin or being ousted by their own confidants.”
“They’re not all like that. You just lack tact.”
Instead of explaining the complexities of managing a massive city like Kalmor and hundreds of vast estates, he simply nodded obediently.
“Yes, it is because I lack tact.”
Her face flushed red. He forced himself to look away from that face, which was twisted in a pout.
He didn’t want to delude himself into thinking she was angry out of concern for him. No, perhaps there was a sliver of such feeling. She pricked everyone with her thorns, but deep down, wasn’t she a soft-hearted woman?
Even in the early days of their marriage, he knew she had begun to open her heart to him, little by little.
If she had given birth to the child safely, they would have continued to share a room and a bed. They wouldn’t be searching for words in this awkward silence.
Their child would have been two years old by now; perhaps they would have fallen asleep side by side with a fussy young son between them.
As Barkas began to picture the scene, he hurriedly emptied his mind as if burned.
He did not want to be a dreamer dwelling on futile ‘what-ifs.’
“In any case, do not mind me and continue to use that bedroom. You will need a spacious room to keep Khan by your side.”
“Well, that’s true, but… I’ll still end up being called a wicked wife who drove her husband into the study for no reason.”
“If anyone says such a thing, I will have them expelled from the castle.”
“Do you really think that’s a solution? If you do that, I’ll just get insulted even more!”
Finally, one of the small ornaments on her belt snapped off under her fingers.
Fiddling with it, the woman spoke hesitantly.
“So, it would be better if…”
Just then, the carriage, which had been traveling at a steady pace, came to a halt. Simultaneously, an escort knight tapped lightly on the door.
“We have arrived, Your Grace.”
“Wait.”
Barkas spoke somewhat stiffly and looked back at Talia.
“Please, continue.”
“…Forget it.”
Answering with a sullen face, she stumbled as she stood up. Barkas instinctively reached for her waist to support her, then clenched his hand into a fist instead.
She looked back at him and cried out in frustration.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to escort me?”
Only then did Barkas stand, step outside, and offer her his hand. Talia gripped it and carefully stepped down from the carriage.
At that moment, gasps of admiration rippled through the surroundings like a wave.
Turning his head, Barkas frowned at the sight of hundreds of people gathered for the holy rite, staring at Talia with dazed expressions. Some of them even had their mouths agape, literally drooling.
He firmly wrapped one hand around her silk-soft arm and subtly shielded her with his broad shoulders. However, it was impossible to block out every single gaze pouring in from all directions.
Enduring the sticky, lingering stares, he slowly led her toward the entrance of the Great Cathedral.
Soon, the Great Chapel, filled with cool air, opened up before them. As they walked down the center, thousands of citizens packed into the pews rose as one. Among them were wealthy merchants, lower nobility, and officials he had personally appointed.
Barkas passed them indifferently as they struggled to catch his eye, heading toward the seats of honor. Upon the wide marble stairs flanking the altar, there were seats specifically reserved for the Sheikan family.
He stood back to let her ascend the stairs first. He did this assuming she would want to hide her slight limp. However, she no longer seemed to care much about the public’s gaze.
With an expressionless face and her head held high, Talia climbed the stairs slowly, gripping the railing with one hand. Everyone gathered in the chapel watched her in hushed silence, captivated by her beautiful and commanding presence.
It wasn’t a look directed at a living, breathing being. It was a gaze that seemed to look up at something both divine and ominous.
Sensing the strange atmosphere flowing through the chapel, the presiding priest stood up and rang the bell on the altar with a grim face.
At the sound, those who had looked as if they were under a hypnotic spell immediately straightened their postures.
“We shall now begin the holy rite.”
At the priest’s solemn declaration, a flash of shame and guilt appeared on the faces of several men.
Barkas ground his teeth. It wasn’t hard to guess what lewd thoughts had crossed their minds. Throughout his time as her guardian knight, he had always had to be on guard against those who peeked at her with eyes clouded by lust.
Suppressing his rising irritation, he quietly followed behind her.
Several of his relatives were already seated in the second-floor gallery. Among them were Lucas and Laina. Barkas acknowledged his siblings—who greeted him with sullen nods—with a tilt of his head before sitting in the designated seats with Talia.
Soon after, the boys in the choir stood and began to sing a hymn in ancient Osirian. While looking down at the scene and masking his boredom, he heard soft laughter in his ear.
Startled, he turned his head to find her face, her blue eyes sparkling like a mischievous imp.
“Look at that.”
She whispered into his ear. A strange heat radiated from the spot where her sweet breath touched him.
“His face is practically purple.”
He forced himself to focus on what she was pointing at.
Only after a few seconds did he spot the Grand Priest standing before the altar. The man was glaring at her with eyes full of indignation, as if he had been personally profaned.
“He nagged me before, saying I should dress as modestly as possible and wear a veil over my face when I come to the Great Cathedral. I think he’s furious because I showed up dressed like this just to spite him.”
Whatever was so funny about that, she giggled like a nymph plotting a wicked prank.
He knit his brows. She had never been a particularly devout believer. However, she had never shown any particular animosity toward the Church either. In fact, hadn’t she occasionally read theological texts as if devouring them?
What on earth had happened in the meantime to make her so hostile toward the priests?
