The sight of his broad, muscled frame glowing pale in the lamplight stole her voice, leaving her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth.
She swallowed hard, her gaze tracing down his body.
Having evidently just washed off the dust from the march, his pale blond hair was a shade darker than usual, dripping with moisture. Droplets glistened white against the sculpted curve of his shoulders and the broad expanse of his back.
Talia watched a single bead of water run down the taut contours of his muscles before flushing crimson and hastily snapping her eyes up.
His loose trousers were thoroughly damp, clinging to his long, powerful legs.
She had not seen him so exposed since she was fourteen, the day she had spitefully ordered him to walk into a lake.
Talia wet her dry lips, struggling to piece together words from the dry scratch in her throat.
Then, a dry laugh cut the silence.
“To hear ‘hierarchy’ fall from your lips… Even the dogs would laugh.”
At his mockery, her embarrassment receded like the tide, replaced at once by a surge of fury. She glared at him, letting out a sharp scoff.
“Hierarchy exists so that superiors can hold it over their inferiors. As knights, your duty is to obey me, a princess of the Empire. Teach your subordinates whose orders take precedence—unless you wish to be flogged for lèse-majesté.”
Varkas, sliding his arms into the sleeves of his shirt, cast a glance her way that was as cold as ice.
Talia’s body went rigid. Long experience had taught her just how vicious his tongue could be once he chose to speak, despite his usual dreadful silence.
She watched his mouth warily, as though watching for a viper about to strike, but Varkas merely lifted the coat hanging from the wall. Without sparing her another glance, he walked past her and stepped out of the tent.
Staring dumbly at his retreating back, Talia hurried after him. She would have preferred cruel words or a heated glare. Being brushed aside, treated as nothing more than a roadside pebble, was something she could not stomach.
Catching up to him in an instant, Talia raised her voice.
“You won’t rest until you’ve let everything I say go in one ear and out the other, will you?”
Her sharp cry made the soldiers carrying supplies halt in their tracks and look over.
Varkas did not even pretend to hear her. Watching him walk on in silence, acting as if she were not worth the breath, sent blood rushing to her head.
Talia grabbed his sleeve, giving it a rough yank. Rather than suffer the indignity of having his clothes torn before the camp hands, Varkas finally stopped.
Confronting that haughty face, Talia ground out every word between her teeth.
“How long have you waited for this? You must be overjoyed to be free from taking orders from a wretched girl. Is that why you won’t even feign obedience anymore?!”
“Words must make sense for me to even feign listening.”
He retorted coldly, peeling her fingers from his sleeve with callous indifference.
Talia ground her teeth. Humiliation burned through her as he brushed off his sleeve, as if ridding it of something filthy.
Perhaps it would be better if this man simply vanished from the world. Then she would never have to endure this misery again.
Glaring at him with raw venom, Talia let out a harsh laugh.
“My words make no sense to you? Then should I speak in the tongue of beasts, as your barbarian ancestors did? Would you understand me then?”
The attendants watching turned pale at the crude insult. Yet Varkas merely looked down at her, unbothered. Facing that icy demeanor, Talia pressed on.
“I could whinny like a horse if you prefer. I’m sure you would understand that much better. You’ve always preferred beasts to people.”
“Speaking with a horse would indeed be an improvement,” Varkas said with a mocking edge.
“I can actually communicate with my stallion. At least he doesn’t bore me to death with endless whining.”
Talia’s shoulders trembled with rage. Watching her, Varkas curled his lip into a contemptuous smirk.
“You flush crimson at the slightest cut, yet never hesitate to tear at another’s wounds… Do you behave this way because you believe no one else can match your malice?”
She glared daggers at him, her throat tight with words desperate to strike back.
What do you know about me?
Who in this world knows human malice better than I do? It is because I know too well how cruel people can be that I chose to be cruel myself. If I do not trample them first, they will trample me.
Yet speaking those truths aloud would only lay her own wounds bare.
She took a step back, smoothing her features into an aloof mask, as though she had not been screeching only moments before.
“I did not come here to trade petty insults. As I said, I want my camp moved elsewhere. Order the knights to strike the tents at once.”
Varkas drew a long breath, as if steeling his patience.
“I have no intention of indulging your whims. Save your breath and return to your quarters.”
“I am not asking to move the entire encampment! Why can’t I have this?”
“I am under no obligation to explain my commands to you.”
“I am the daughter of the Emperor! When I command, you are to obey—!”
“Enough.”
A heavy shadow fell across her.
Talia flinched, her shoulders drawing in. Stripping away the last shred of courtly pretense, Varkas leaned down and spoke in an icy murmur.
“I have exhausted today’s allotment of patience. If you have any sense, you will save the rest for tomorrow.”
Despite his harsh words, the face looking down at her remained breathtakingly composed. He was a man who retained his dignity even when sharpened by wrath—and that unyielding grace only made her feel more wretched.
“Escort the Princess back to her quarters.”
Drawing himself up, he issued the order to the knights nearby. Those who had been watching in silence immediately stepped forward.
“This way, Princess.”
Talia shot a venomous glare at the knights barring her way before turning her eyes back toward Varkas.
He had already moved on. Watching his distant back, moving with effortless composure, Talia ground her teeth.
He had not even asked why she wanted to move the camp. He could not care less what went on in her head.
‘I hope he dies.’
How foolish she had been, running about in a frenzy out of fear that harm might come to him.
He would belong to another woman once this pilgrimage ended anyway. A man who would never be hers… What did it matter if he was a corpse by morning?
Talia turned away sharply.
END