Translator: Nox

Chapter 4

True to his nature as a man who detested drawing more attention than necessary, he raised a hand to stop the servant who was about to announce his name. He then descended the stairs with an elegant, upright posture.

Despite his efforts, however, every eye in the room remained fixed on Barkas. Even the presence of the future Emperor seemed to pale in comparison to his arrival.

Talia drank in his appearance greedily, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

As always, he was dressed impeccably in the uniform of the Imperial Guard. The only difference from his usual attire was that beneath the ornate greatcoat provided by the order, he wore a black breastplate engraved with the crest of a dark horse instead of the golden armor symbolizing the Roem Knight Order.

It was a declaration that he attended this banquet not as a knight, but as the heir to Duke Siyeokan and the fiancé of Aila.

Just as Talia expected, Barkas headed straight for the center of the hall where Gares and Aila stood.

“I greet Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

He offered Gares a bow that was neither excessive nor lacking, then turned toward Aila, who was smiling shyly.

Talia’s fingertips began to tremble violently. She gripped her wine glass so hard her knuckles turned white.

When Barkas extended a hand toward the ‘legitimate princess,’ Aila took it demurely. In that instant, a pain as sharp as twisting entrails surged through Talia.

Don’t touch her. I told you not to touch Barkas.

She wanted to scream it, though she had no right to. Talia had to bite her lip to keep from making a hideous scene.

“Wouldn’t it be better to leave the banquet hall now?”

The man who had been observing her face made the suggestion cautiously. Hearing such words from someone who had seemed to genuinely enjoy the chaos snapped her back to her senses. She hadn’t come here to make a miserable, pathetic exit.

Talia composed her shattered expression and crossed the hall with elegant strides. Those surrounding the Crown Prince, the First Princess, and the noble son of the East naturally stepped aside to open a path.

They were undoubtedly hoping for something exciting to happen. Talia intended to satisfy their expectations perfectly.

“Hello. My respected brother, and… my lovely sister.”

She deliberately ignored Barkas’s presence, offering her slow greeting only to the two siblings. She felt that if she looked him in the face, the thread of reason she was barely holding onto would snap entirely.

Keeping her back to Barkas, she fixed her gaze solely on Aila’s face and spoke in a mocking tone.

“I’m glad to see you’ve recovered your health. You showed such… an unseemly side of yourself before, didn’t you?”

“Thank you for your concern.”

Aila replied with a gentle smile that held not a single shadow.

For a moment, goosebumps broke out over Talia’s skin.

This woman couldn’t possibly be unaware that it was her half-sister who had drugged her glass. Despite that, there wasn’t a speck of anger in the gaze she directed at Talia. It was the look one gave to a common, mundane object found anywhere.

Like the wine glasses, plates, or candlesticks scattered about the hall… How could a person feel anger toward such things?

Seeing her attitude, which was beyond calm and bordered on indifferent, a wave of deep regret washed over Talia.

She should have given this woman a deadly poison, not an emetic. Even if it meant facing a gruesome execution… even if it meant burning in the fires of hell for eternity…

Compared to her, the brother who wore his raw hatred openly felt almost human.

“How dare you show your face here.”

Gares leaned in close to her, his teeth grinding together. His glistening eyes scanned her up and down with profound loathing.

“And in such a vulgar state! Did your mother order you to play the whore to win over my loyal subjects?”

“A vulgar state? Your words are quite harsh.”

Talia spread her skirts wide for all to see.

“This dress is the very one my mother wore the day she first met His Majesty the Emperor. It is a very meaningful dress.”

Silence fell over the hall instantly.

A fire of rage flickered and burned in the Crown Prince’s eyes. Regrettably for him, Talia loved playing with fire.

“Our father would have loved this outfit dearly. Don’t you think so?”

The Crown Prince’s shoulders jerked upward. It looked as though he might succumb to his temper and strike her across the face.

But his clever sister was not about to let that happen. Placing a hand on Gares’s forearm to restrain him at the perfect moment, Aila looked back at her half-sister and offered a crystal-clear smile.

“Yes. It truly suits you well.”

Surprisingly, there was no malice in her voice. The tone was so calm, as if she were merely stating an obvious fact, that it piqued Talia’s nerves. Perhaps this woman thought that reacting to the provocations of a lowly bastard was beneath her dignity.

Giving her twin brother a steady look to tell him to stay calm, Aila stepped closer to her fiancé. She leaned lightly against his side and spoke with a look of supreme happiness.

“At any rate, thank you for coming. Today is a very meaningful day for us… especially for me. I wanted to be congratulated by as many people as possible.”

Aila’s slender hand came to rest as softly as a shadow upon the arm of the man standing silently beside her.

Talia stared down at that hand as if she wanted to tear it to shreds. She couldn’t bring herself to look up. She felt that if she saw him smiling at Aila, she wouldn’t be able to stay sane.

Aila spoke in a voice as soft as a feather.

“Our official wedding date has finally been set. On the day the Season of Winds begins, I will be heading to the East to become a member of the Siyeokan family. Of course, I’ll have to set out on a pilgrimage to receive the blessings of the saints before that. Since we must leave before the weather gets too hot, today might be the last time I see you.”

She feigned a look of regret quite well.

“I’m glad we could meet like this before I leave the Imperial Palace. I wanted to at least share a final goodbye.”

Then, as if wishing to end the conversation, she leaned her shoulder lightly against Barkas and added serenely.

“Please, enjoy the banquet held for us to your heart’s content.”

Wearing a smile of tolerance, Aila turned gracefully. Talia, who had been staring intently at her, suddenly spoke.

“The last time… I simply must bless your future, sister.”

As she took a step toward Aila, the man who had been quietly observing the silent war between the two women reacted instantly. Seeing him thrust his arm forward as if to protect his fiancée made Talia’s vision turn crimson.

Before Barkas could completely block her path, Talia swiftly poured her wine over Aila’s chest.

The dark-colored wine stained the white upper half of the pearl-encrusted dress red, flowing down to the hem of the skirt. It looked as if she had been stabbed through the heart and was bleeding out.

“I shall pray every single day that you end up looking like this very soon.”

At the horrific curse, everyone in the room gasped sharply.

Even Aila’s face, which had been stoic throughout, turned deathly pale. Her expression of genuine terror was so ridiculous that Talia almost burst out laughing.

But the joy was fleeting. A powerful hand seized her wrist and yanked her back roughly. Forced by the momentum, Talia had no choice but to look directly into the face of the man she had tried so hard to avoid.

A pair of pale, glowing blue eyes glared down at her, filled with cold, sharp fury.