Fortunately, three years still remained before the Zram invasion. He had to find a way to prepare before then.
‘…Is there truly no way to warn her of what is to come?’
Stepping out from behind the screen again, he slowly surveyed the pointlessly massive furniture.
He spotted a few books and writing utensils on the desk. Holding a pen with a beast’s paws was out of the question, but perhaps he could leave a message using the ink. Yet would that truly be a wise move?
He turned his gaze back to the bed. She lay fast asleep, oblivious to the world. As he took in her pale face, which still bore the lingering traces of illness, his heart twisted with pain.
Even if he managed to leave a message against all odds, would she actually believe it? He himself had yet to fully accept this reality. If a mere beast left an ominous warning, it was far more likely to be branded an evil spirit and chased away.
Even if a miracle occurred and she did believe him, it would only breed new disaster. She could easily be accused of witchcraft.
Keeping a magical beast was already enough to arouse suspicions of heresy; if anyone caught her communing with one, she would surely be condemned as possessed.
In the end, only one realistic course of action remained: to stand resolutely by her side until that fateful day three years from now.
Using his hind legs, which had grown longer and sturdier since he first woke in this body, he leaped onto the bed and sat by her head.
Paltry as his size was now, magical beasts grew with terrifying speed. He knew all too well how massive this wolf would eventually become. As long as he avoided being driven from the castle before the Zram invaded, he could avert the tragedy awaiting her.
‘…To do that, I must act entirely harmless.’
He looked down quietly at his wife’s face, half-buried in the pillow. To protect her, he had to present a gentle, docile front to those around them.
Above all, he could never show aggression. If he harmed anyone—just as Khan had once mauled Lucas—he would undoubtedly be put down on the spot.
That could never happen. No matter what, he had to stay by her side. If he could simply hold his ground in this castle for three years, he could change what was to come.
And after that…
He cut the thought short. He could not afford to dwell on a future so distant. For now, every thought had to belong to keeping her safe.
He curled into a ball beside her. Part of him feared that closing his eyes would make all of this vanish like a mirage, but he needed sleep if his body was to grow.
Pressing close against her, he rested his chin on his neatly aligned forepaws. Just then, a ragged gasp brushed against his ears.
It sounded like a drowning soul desperately fighting for air. He snapped his head up to find her clutching her throat with both hands.
Startled, he sprang to his feet. Even in the dim light, he saw her face turning blue, suffocating as if underwater. Without thinking, he let out an urgent cry.
A chilling dread gripped him as she gasped as though each breath were her last. Desperate for anyone to come running, he howled louder. Panting in agony, Talia forced her sweat-drenched eyelids open and looked at him. Her hands reached out at once, pulling him frantically against her chest.
“Varkas…”
At her weeping voice, his spine went rigid.
For one fleeting heartbeat, hope flared that she had recognized him. But as he met her unfocused eyes, it withered to nothing. Gripping him so tightly it bruised, she murmured in a daze.
“I knew you would come. I knew… you would come to save me.”
The blood froze in his veins. Recognizing the nightmare that tormented her felt like a cold blade driven through his ribs.
He buried his face into her pale, cold neck, his breath turning shallow and ragged. Vivid memories tore through him—leaving her behind to race toward Ayla Roem Guirta, and the monster tearing into Talia’s flesh.
He had never once truly protected her. But this time would be different. Even if it cost him his life, he would keep her safe. It mattered nothing whether he could ever hold her as a man or kiss her lips again.
‘As long as you are breathing in this world, nothing else matters to me.’
Listening to her breathing slowly steady, he gently licked the tears from her cheek.
Before long, calm returned to her face.
Until the first pale light of dawn crept into the room, he watched over her without looking away.
“That medicine works remarkably well.”
Seeing Marisen arrive to check her condition, Talia spoke with unusual brightness.
“I walked two laps around the garden with Khan, and my leg barely hurt at all. I think I tossed and turned less during the night, too.”
Sorting through the shelves to fetch fresh bandages for her leg, the sorceress turned back with a courteous smile.
“That is wonderful news indeed.”
“So I’d like you to prepare more of it. I ought to take it every day.”
“Your Highness, it is quite potent. You must allow at least three to four days between doses so as not to strain your body.”
“I didn’t find it that strong.”
Talia pouted with discontent.
“It wasn’t very bitter, and it didn’t upset my stomach afterward.”
“That is merely how it tastes, but the medicine itself is exceptionally powerful…”
“What kind of medicine is it?”
Tiuran, who had been quietly clearing ash from the incense burner, spoke up with hesitation.
Marisen turned to her, her expression souring.
“I merely gave Her Highness a stronger painkiller because the pain in her leg flares every night.”
“May I ask which herbs you used?”
“It was prepared by blending mandragora extract with poppy, henbane, and wild boar bile.”
At Marisen’s answer, a faint crease gathered between Tiuran’s brows.
“Those are all intensely bitter ingredients. How did you prepare them so that—”
“Why should I have to explain that to you?”
Marisen’s voice dropped several degrees.
“You are merely an assistant. I find it offensive that you interrogate me as though you were Her Highness’s personal healer.”
“I meant nothing of the sort. I only asked because I wished to learn from you, Marisen-nim… If I have given offense, I sincerely apologize.”
Tiuran bowed her head at once. Marisen glared at her, and just as she opened her mouth to snap again, Talia cut in with sharp irritation.
“Enough. In whose presence do you think you are playing these petty games?”
“…Forgive me, Your Highness. I have shown you an unseemly side of myself.”
Marisen answered smoothly, retrieving fresh bandages and ointment from her satchel. She then began the examination as usual.
Talia gazed out the window with a sour look as Marisen lifted her hem, unwound the linen, and applied the salve. Feeling warmth press against her, Talia looked down. The young wolf had hopped onto the bed when no one was looking, inspecting the scarred leg with an anxious gaze.
She gathered him into her arms and stroked his small head.
“There’s no need to worry. This scar is years old. It hardly even hurts anymore.”
The wolf, who had been quietly gazing up at her, lowered his eyes back to the jagged mark. A deep sorrow seemed to pool in his clear, gem-like eyes.
A sudden tightness gripped her chest, and she pulled him closer. Just then, she heard footsteps outside the door.
“Your Highness, I have an urgent matter to report. May I enter?”
END
