Edric looked between his superior’s cold, broad back and the judging stares of the crowd, then spurred his horse forward with a heavy sigh.
As if mounting a silent protest, the Second Princess remained sequestered inside her carriage. It was only when they left the capital far behind and halted to rest along the riverbank that she finally stepped out.
The attendants, busy pitching tents and setting up camp, eyed Talia with undisguised dread.
Her morning threat to change dresses multiple times a day had been no empty boast. Gone was the gown she had worn out of the palace gates; in its place was a lavish silk creation woven with gold thread.
Around her pale, slender neck hung a jewel-encrusted necklace that could easily buy an entire fortress, and upon wrists as thin as birch twigs rested heavy bracelets studded with diamonds.
Watching from afar, Edric could only stare in sheer disbelief. They were merely preparing dinner and pitching camp for the night. Why on earth dress up so extravagantly? The woman’s unfathomable vanity already made him weary.
Swallowing a sigh, he tossed his reins to a squire and approached her. As he drew near, the woman, who had been casting cold looks at the campsite, whipped her head toward him.
In that single moment, Edric felt his breath catch in his throat. Under the dying rays of the sunset, Talia looked like a creature forged from flame and gold.
The river wind whipped her wheat-pale locks into a swirling golden mane around her face, and her pristine, chalcedony skin shone with a cold luminescence even against the blazing red horizon.
Without realizing it, he took half a step back. Everything about her appeared so desperately frail that it seemed she might shatter at any moment, showering the earth with razor-sharp glass.
Just as he swallowed hard against a dark, nameless foreboding, a sharp, irritated voice slipped past her blood-red lips.
“I dislike this place. Move the camp.”
The sheer preposterousness of the demand brought him back to his senses in an instant.
He drew himself up stiffly. She was a poisonous mushroom in a dazzling coat. Anyone foolish enough to be captivated by that beauty and lower their guard would pay dearly for it.
Summoning a dry, professional detachment, he answered.
“This site was chosen by the Imperial Guard for our safety. It is too late in the evening to search for another location.”
“Did I ask for your opinion?”
She fixed him with a frostbitten glare.
“I gave an order to move the camp. All you need to do is obey.”
Edric took a slow breath, gathering every scrap of patience he had.
“Lord Shearkan holds ultimate command over this expedition. I tell you once more: we cannot break formation on a whim.”
“So you’re saying I only need Varkas’s permission?”
Cutting him short, she turned on her heel and strode away. It was clear she had been looking for any excuse to pick a fight with Lord Shearkan from the very start.
Edric hurried after her. He simply could not fathom a woman so bent on stirring up trouble on the very first day of the journey.
With his longer stride, he caught up to her in a few paces.
“What exactly about this place do you find so intolerable?”
“I hate every single thing about it,” she snapped, not slowing her brisk march.
“I hate being near the water, and I hate being next to the woods. It will be swarming with vermin.”
“How could we camp without water? Moreover, this region is known for griffins and harpies. The forest serves as a natural barrier should large monsters strike—”
“Safety? What safety! I have already been bitten twice by flying pests! If I spend the night here, those foul bugs will gnaw my skin to the bone. And the racket from those woods! I cannot bear the sound of rustling leaves, and with all that infernal chirping, how do you expect me to sleep!”
Edric looked down at the princess, utterly appalled. Not even a spoiled five-year-old child threw such a tantrum. He gritted his teeth to swallow his rising fury.
“We must camp like this for many days to come. If you do not adjust now—”
“Then move the camp! Why should I force myself to endure things I loathe?”
She shrieked like a racehorse with blinders on, charging straight through the encampment. He had to ball his hands into tight fists to keep from hauling her back by force.
“The men are exhausted after a full day’s march. We cannot strike the tents and roam through the dark for such a ridiculous whim. Stop acting like a spoiled brat and return to your carriage.”
When he blocked her way and spoke with deliberate sternness, her lovely, terrible face contorted. A heartbeat later, with a sound like a cracking whip, a stinging pain exploded across his right cheek.
His eyes flashed with a murderous glint. From the moment he had been appointed her personal guard, he had anticipated some measure of abuse. But enduring it was far more sickening than he could have imagined.
“How dare you lecture me.”
As he struggled to swallow the burning insult, the woman grabbed him by his collar and hissed straight into his face.
“I am the Emperor’s blood, and you exist entirely for my convenience. If I tell you to march through the night, it is your fate to march until sunrise. So keep your mouth shut and get out of my sight.”
Shoving him backward, she continued her brisk stride along the riverbank.
Edric stared in stony silence at the back of her small head. If it were up to him, he would have slung the insolent woman over his shoulder and hurled her back into the carriage, just as his commander had.
Yet he lacked the power to lay a hand on an imperial princess without forfeiting his own neck.
Watching her delicate figure rapidly shrink into the distance, Edric let out a bitter breath.
Could he truly survive this vile woman’s cruelty until the end of the expedition? Already, a splitting headache throbbed behind his temples.
As she hurried along the river, Talia felt sharp, stinging stares boring into her back.
She whipped her head around, only to see the servants who had been peeking at her swiftly avert their faces and pretend to work.
It was nothing out of the ordinary. Hadn’t people always treated her like a keg of gunpowder waiting for a spark? And yet, the gazes trailing after her today—wary, sly, and lingering—felt suspicious.
‘There has to be a spy planted by Senevier among them.’
She scrutinized every face she passed. What if every single one of them was her mother’s pawn? Senevier was more than capable of such an arrangement.
Her mind spiraled into darker, more terrible depths.
For years, Senevier had worked relentlessly to gut the backing of Gareth’s faction. This pilgrimage was the perfect opportunity to butcher any obstacle left in her son’s path.
Her heart beat erratically against her ribs.
If her mother’s crosshairs were trained on Gareth or Ayla, she couldn't care less. She would gladly lend a hand if needed. But if, by any chance, the person Senevier was targeting was Varkas…
At that thought, Talia swept an anxious gaze over the sea of military tents.
She had to separate the encampments. Putting physical distance between them was the only way to keep Senevier’s spies from enacting whatever foul plot they had planned for the night.
She hastened her steps. Before long, she spotted Toruk, Varkas’s prized warhorse, tethered outside a large command tent. Talia swept past the great grey stallion—which snorted loudly in recognition—and slipped into the dim tent.
The interior was as neatly kept as a sanctuary. Her eyes flicked over a candelabra casting faint light, a sturdy trunk, and a stand holding armor. Spotting a dark silhouette cast against a standing partition, she walked toward it without hesitation.
“I want to move my tent elsewhere. But my ‘valiant’ knight insists we cannot take a single step without Lord Shearkan’s blessing. It seems your subordinates think the Commander of the Roem Knights outranks the imperial family itself. How the Imperial Guard has deteriorated into such a pathetic rabble that can’t even discern its own hierarchy—”
Talia, who had been rattling off her grievance as she yanked back the screen, froze mid-sentence. Varkas was standing there bare-chested, wiping water from his face with a towel.
END