Translator: Nox
Chapter 27
Eyes glistening with anticipation latched onto her chest with a sticky intensity before slowly dragging downward. He stared at the contours of her body beneath the thin fabric for a long time, as if tracing them with his gaze, before crawling back up to stare directly into her eyes.
Talia felt every muscle in her body turn to stone. She knew she had to run immediately, but her legs refused to budge.
The man licked his lower lip and slithered closer.
“If Your Highness would only allow it, I…”
A rough, calloused hand reached out and touched the hair draped over her shoulder. She watched with terror-stricken eyes as her strands were wound around his wood-like fingers.
She couldn’t breathe properly. She should have roared at him, demanding how he dared lay a hand on her, but no sound escaped her parted lips.
Taking her silence as consent, the man—who had been meticulously caressing each strand of her golden hair—now reached his hand toward her face.
His palm, as coarse as sandpaper, scraped painfully against her delicate skin. Just as she pulled her neck back in a fit of horror, a large hand encased in a gauntlet lunged out of the darkness and seized the man’s wrist.
Talia recoiled as if snapping out of a trance. When she lifted her head, she saw a pair of piercing, silver-blue eyes.
In that instant, her heart dropped.
She instinctively pressed her back against the wall. Barkas, looking down at her with an expressionless face, slowly shifted his gaze toward the monk.
Whatever the monk saw in his eyes, the man—who had been frozen like a statue—began to tremble violently as if he had encountered a ghost.
“I-I was merely… Her, Her Highness…”
“Quiet.”
The heavy bass of his voice cut off the man’s excuse. The monk’s face, pale as a sheet, twisted into a gruesome mask of pain. Though Barkas appeared to be holding him lightly, he seemed to be applying enough pressure to crush bone.
Barkas spoke slowly, right into the face of the man who was now dripping with cold sweat.
“Neither of us wants to make this a bigger issue than it is. Return to your place quietly.”
The groaning monk nodded frantically.
Barkas let go of his arm and added, “It would be best if you stayed out of my sight until we leave this place.”
“I-I will keep that in mind.”
The man clutched his bruised, purple wrist, looking as if he were about to burst into tears.
Barkas jerked his chin, signaling him to get lost. The man didn’t hesitate and scrambled away. After staring at that unsightly retreating back for a moment, Barkas turned his head back toward her.
Talia reflexively lowered her eyes. Even though she had done nothing wrong, her mouth felt dry and heat rose to the back of her neck for some reason. As she fidgeted, glancing at him nervously, a voice rang out—one that was chillingly calm.
“Follow me. I will escort you back to your quarters.”
Talia, who had been stiff with tension, let her arms hang limp as a strange sense of exhaustion washed over her. Simultaneously, a surge of peculiar resentment and sorrow rushed in.
I was almost subjected to something horrible just now. I was scared to death. So why are you being so detached?
Biting her lip with a face full of indignation, Talia stormed past him. She refused to show him any weakness, even if it killed her.
She marched across the garden with her head held high, and after a short while, the dormitory for female devotees appeared beyond the long corridor.
She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead and snapped, “We’re here, so stop following me!”
Knights were standing guard around the building. She wouldn’t face another ordeal like the one before.
She hurried her steps as if fleeing. However, before she could take more than a few paces, she found herself trapped between him and the exterior wall of the building.
Talia looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.
“Wh-what… so suddenly…”
“If you’ve been severely burned once while playing with fire…”
His voice sounded as if it were scraping the back of his throat. Perhaps noticing it himself, he paused briefly. Soon, a much calmer voice followed.
“Isn’t it about time you started being careful?”
Talia felt the blood drain from her face. Barkas, scrutinizing her face with a gaze sharp enough to dissect it, twisted his lips.
“Or do you truly wish to throw your body away so recklessly?”
Without a second thought, Talia swung her hand. But once again, he caught her wrist before it could reach his face. Barkas added slowly:
“If that is the case, please exercise restraint for the time being. I would prefer to avoid any troublesome incidents until this journey is over.”
She clamped her trembling lips shut. He released her arm and slowly turned his body away.
“I trust you understand.”
In that moment, if she had held a knife in her hand, she would have plunged it into his back without hesitation.
Like a fish gliding through water, Talia glared at his silently receding back with murderous intent. Then, feeling her vision blur, she hurriedly turned her head away.
Even though she knew he wouldn’t look back, she was terrified he might see her tears. Talia rubbed her eyelids roughly with her sleeve and ran into the dormitory as if escaping.
The next morning, the ceremonies proceeded as if nothing had happened.
Talia sat on the windowsill of her assigned bedroom, looking down at the twin siblings heading toward the altar, and Barkas, who followed behind them like a guardian.
Normally, she should have been among them. However, she had excused herself, claiming she was unwell. She had refused a rite that was mandatory for members of the imperial family with a flimsy excuse.
Under normal circumstances, the ceremony should have been postponed, but it proceeded as scheduled according to the Crown Prince’s firm will. Perhaps the monastery welcomed this situation. Bestowing a divine blessing upon a mere bastard likely didn’t sit well with them anyway.
‘…Maybe I should have just attended.’
Talia, who had been chuckling to herself, wiped the smile off her face when she saw Aila and Barkas standing side by side before the altar.
If she had joined them, there was no telling what she might have done. She might have even lunged at one of them, intent on killing them.
‘I don’t even know which of the two I hate more anymore.’
Talia habitually brought her finger to her mouth, but lowered her arm again, not wanting to ruin the fingernails that had finally grown out.
She couldn’t stand to watch any longer. She drew the curtains and threw herself onto the bed.
As she curled up in the dim darkness, memories of last night swirled in her head. The lust-filled gaze, the hand reaching for her, and Barkas’s cold eyes…
“If you’ve been severely burned once while playing with fire… isn’t it about time you started being careful?”
Talia pulled the blanket up over her head.
Barkas believed she had seduced that man. Perhaps it wasn’t any different. She had always driven herself into corners with her foolish actions… and it had been his role to rescue her from those crises.
She had only just escaped that tedious duty, yet a similar incident had occurred again; it was only natural he would be fed up. He must truly be sick of her now.
She buried her face in her pillow and giggled.
She recalled the moment he walked out of her life. Was it because something similar had happened yesterday?
Staring blankly at the sliver of light seeping through the curtains, Talia slowly closed her eyes. Buried memories began to unfold haphazardly in her mind.
