Translator: Nox

Chapter 25

“I am always concerned for Your Highness.”

Barkas spoke in a tone so polite it was difficult to find fault with.

“I only meant to say that the Princess is resting comfortably, so you need not worry. Please do not take offense.”

Gares glared at Barkas with an irritated look before striding into the grand hall. Getting worked up against this man, who was like a stubborn block of stone, would only make him look ridiculous.

Clicking his tongue lightly, he crossed the hall, which was decorated as lavishly as any noble’s banquet room.

“Thank you for attending, Your Imperial Highness.”

As he approached the long dining table covered in a snow-white cloth, the Abbot stood up abruptly to greet him.

“Please, sit here.”

Gares took the seat the Abbot vacated and surveyed the table. It seemed the Abbot hadn’t the slightest intention of imitating a life of poverty. The wide table was laden with silver tableware, golden goblets, and luxurious dishes flavored with all sorts of spices.

Scanning it all with a satisfied gaze, Gares nodded toward the dozen or so priests surrounding the table.

“I appreciate the welcome. Come, sit.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the monks pulled out their chairs in unison and sat down. Only Barkas, attending as his guard, stood silently behind him like a shadow.

Curious eyes darted toward Barkas. They were clearly taken aback by the striking appearance of the Commander of the Imperial Guard.

Gares knit his brows slightly.

It wasn’t unusual, as Barkas always drew more attention than necessary. Nevertheless, Gares felt a prickle of annoyance that people were focusing more on Barkas than on him.

It was something he endured every time he brought the man along, yet the unpleasantness never quite faded.

Struggling not to let his irritation show, he raised his goblet high.

“I express my gratitude to the Abbot for preparing such a pleasant gathering.”

The priests’ eyes shifted back to him. Gares paused for a moment, savoring the attention, before continuing slowly.

“I hope this time will be meaningful for everyone…”

Just as he was about to conclude his toast with some plausible words, a golden phantom suddenly intruded into his field of vision. Gares froze, staring blankly at the entrance of the hall.

For a split second, he thought that nightmare of a woman, Senevia, had appeared.

He gripped his goblet fiercely and scanned his half-sister from head to toe. As if she had no knowledge of the basic rule that one should dress simply in a monastery, Talia Roem Guirta was dressed so extravagantly that she would have stood out even in an imperial ballroom. And it was an utterly vulgar, garish display.

He gritted his teeth in contempt. Talia, whose youthful curves were clearly visible beneath the thin fabric of her dress, walked slowly toward the table.

The monks looked as though they might faint on the spot. Some were even gaping at her, completely dazed. Unable to contain his rage, Gares leaped to his feet.

“How dare you… show up in such a state in a place like this!”

Wine overflowed from the goblet as he slammed it down. Without even thinking to wipe his wet hands, he pointed a finger at her.

“Did you not hear my warning to stay out of my sight?”

“Oh, of course I heard it.”

The girl pulled out the chair directly next to him and sat down as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a coquettish smile playing on her lips.

“How could I stay away when my brother said he wanted to see me? At the great Crown Prince’s request, I even took the care to dress up like this.”

She ran a hand down her skirt as if to show it off. He stared at his half-sister with an expression of disbelief.

“What nonsense are you…”

“Surely you aren’t ignorant of my contrary nature, Brother. Sending the Commander of the Imperial Guard himself to deliver such a message—didn’t that mean you were dying to see your sister?”

Her eyes, a pure cobalt blue with no hint of impurity, narrowed wickedly.

“Since the Crown Prince requested it so earnestly, as your sister, I simply had to live up to your expectations.”

Gares had to summon every ounce of his meager self-control to keep from striking her across the face. As if to provoke him further, Talia continued slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to see your face like this. Are you enjoying yourself too, Brother?”

“…I was, until you showed up.”

Talia burst into laughter at his words, which were spat out through grinding teeth.

“Then it was worth the effort of dragging my tired body here.”

Gares clenched his jaw so hard it felt like it might shatter. Every time this girl laughed like that, it was hard to resist the urge to crush that unnervingly beautiful face. His shoulders trembling, Gares tightened his fists and hissed out each word.

“How much longer do you intend to act up? Are you trying to test the limits of my patience?”

“How can you say such hurtful things…”

The girl leaned in, resting her elbows on the table. The light from the chandelier poured over her pitifully thin shoulders and prominent shoulder blades. The monks’ gazes likewise poured over her delicate form, which looked as though it were carved from ivory.

That snake-like bitch. Overwhelmed by a wave of intense loathing, he breathed heavily through his teeth. As if sensing his anger reaching its breaking point, the corners of Talia’s mouth curled upward.

“I merely accepted an invitation. I don’t know why you’re huffing and puffing when I haven’t done anything. Don’t you think you’re being too harsh… to your lovely youngest sister?”

The girl turned her head toward the Abbot sitting across from her, as if seeking his agreement. The monk’s face stiffened in embarrassment at the sudden question. Finding his naive reaction amusing, the girl’s eyes curved suggestively. Watching her act with the coquetry of a harlot made him feel nauseous. He roughly grabbed her arm.

“If you’re so desperate for attention, pick one of your attendants to sleep with. Stop playing games with the monks. If you tarnish the Imperial name with a filthy scandal, I’ll make sure you can never show that pretty face of yours again.”

At that savage threat, the girl’s eyes flashed.

“And what exactly are you going to do?”

Talia spat out the words fiercely, tilting her head as if picking a fight.

“Since you put it that way, I’m dying to live up to your expectations.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He reached out to wring that slender little neck of hers.

In that moment, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

“Your Highness.”

Gares jerked his head up. Barkas Raedgo Siyeokan was looking down at him with a calm face.

It was the same stoic face he had seen a thousand times, devoid of any trace of emotion. Yet, for a split second, Gares felt threatened. Even though such a thing was impossible.

“Everyone is waiting for Your Highness’s toast.”

Barkas pressed down firmly on his shoulder, as if telling him not to fall for Talia’s provocation.

Gares shoved the hand away roughly. His fingertips trembled with the unfulfilled urge for violence.

Clenching his fists to hide it, he glared at the girl’s enchanting face.

Talia Roem Guirta was baiting him on purpose. He must not get swept up in it. Repeating this to himself, Gares calmed his boiling rage and released the girl’s arm with a shove. He picked up his wine glass again and shouted in an exaggerated, theatrical tone.

“We’ve wasted time with useless bickering. Come, let us eat. I express my gratitude once more to the Abbot for arranging this fine gathering. I hope today will be a meaningful day for everyone.”

The monks, their faces frozen as they looked back and forth between the Crown Prince, the illegitimate Princess, and the Commander of the Imperial Guard standing behind them, hesitantly picked up their glasses. Only Talia Roem Guirta watched the scene with her arms crossed, a mocking look on her face.

Just as his temper was about to flare again at her defiant attitude, Barkas leaned over Talia.

“Please show basic courtesy as a guest, Princess.”

He then gently opened her hand and placed a silver goblet in it. Talia stiffened at the sudden contact and glared up at him with venomous eyes.

Gares expected her to hurl the glass immediately. Perhaps because they had clashed at every turn since childhood, Talia had always seemed particularly eager to tear Barkas apart.

But contrary to his expectations, Talia, who had been glaring like a poisonous cat, soon straightened herself up. He narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t like Talia Roem Guirta to back down from such a warning. Wasn’t she the girl who always ran wild without knowing when to stop? Instead of submissively yielding to Barkas’s pressure, it would have been more like her to fly into a frothing rage.

What is she plotting?