Chapter 50
Her face contorted in a gruesome mask of rage, Talia struck his cheek with all her might.
“You insufferable bastard! You just can’t be satisfied unless you’re getting in my way at every turn!”
In the darkness, his blue eyes wavered ever so slightly. Yet, the face looking down at her remained as chillingly cold as ever. That unshakable composure was loathsome.
Talia dug her nails in and raked them down his cheek. Without so much as a flinch, Barkas grabbed her wrists and surveyed the chaotic campsite.
His icy gaze swept over the pale, terrified faces of the maids, the bewildered knights, and finally, the woman sobbing as she clutched her burned cheek.
A dry sigh escaped his lips.
“Take her to the healer.”
With a curt nod toward the woman, Barkas turned away.
Talia thrashed her limbs wildly, letting out a piercing shriek.
“By whose authority?! That woman is a criminal! Her head should be lopped off this instant!”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of people rushing toward the commotion, whispering as they looked at her. But she had no energy left to maintain her dignity. She screamed loud enough to shake the entire camp.
“You goddamn piece of filth! What kind of knight are you?!”
Barkas didn’t even blink.
Silently cutting through the rows of tents, Barkas headed straight for his own quarters and set her down on the wide bed.
Talia, not even realizing she had been brought to his bedchamber, remained consumed by her boiling fury.
“You’ve never once protected me properly! Always! Always! You let me be torn to pieces! You had no intention of saving me this time either, did you? You probably hoped I’d die. That’s why—that’s why you left me behind! That’s why you didn’t come for me right away! I know everything!”
Ignoring her frantic shouting, he pinned her wrists to the bed and forced her hands open.
Blood and fluid oozed from her palms, which were raw with red burns. Frowning at the sight, Barkas reached for a small glass bottle on the shelf.
When she saw him pouring an unidentified liquid onto her hands, she let out a scream.
“No! Don’t! Just leave me alone!”
He applied the medicine to her wounds in silence before wrapping them tightly in white bandages he had pulled from somewhere.
Talia, who had been pummeling his shoulders with her free hand the whole time, eventually exhausted all her strength and let her limbs go limp. Barkas looked down at her with dry eyes before slowly straightening his back.
“I will bring you a sedative.”
Talia, her face half-buried in the pillow as she gasped for breath, lifted her eyes to look at him.
Walking with measured steps, Barkas took a medicine bottle from the shelf on one side of the tent and examined it.
Over that straight back of his, the image of him running toward Aila overlapped. A searing pain, like fire, surged through her.
Talia spat out words in a twisted voice.
“You’re disgusted that I’m still alive and breathing, aren’t you?”
She saw his hand, which had been searching the shelf, falter and freeze.
After standing motionless for a moment, he turned his head with a slowness that felt unnatural.
Facing that refined countenance, as if all emotion had been distilled out of it, something inside her shattered and crumbled into dust.
A bleak smile played on Talia’s lips.
“How disappointing it must be for you. It was such a perfect opportunity for the thorn in your side to vanish from this world.”
Tears finally overflowed, wetting her cheeks. His cold face blurred, distorted as if submerged under a thin layer of water.
He strode over and knelt before her. A cold glass bottle touched her lower lip.
“Drink. It will make things a little easier.”
“I don’t need it.”
“…….”
“I don’t need anything from you anymore.”
Barkas set the bottle down.
Just then, the lamp flickered and dimmed, casting a dark shadow over his face.
It didn’t matter. She knew exactly what expression he was wearing without even looking. He would have that same indifferent face as always, or perhaps a gaze mixed with a hint of fatigue and annoyance.
She turned her back on him.
The man watched her in silence before finally leaving the tent.
Listening to the retreating footsteps, Talia reached down and felt her legs. The sensation of them being as hard as blocks of wood sent a chill down her spine.
Cripple.
She hurriedly banished the word that flashed through her mind.
That couldn’t be right. It was just nonsense spouted by those who hated her.
The Imperial Palace was full of brilliant healers. If it was her mother, she would know many sorcerers who practiced forbidden magic.
Surely, she would fix her, no matter the cost or the method.
When that time came, she would flaunt her perfect body in front of those who had mocked her.
Clutching her aching knees, Talia eventually closed her eyes.
The grand pilgrimage procession that had begun at the Imperial Palace had transformed into a somber funeral march.
The imperial attendants wore black robes instead of red surcoats, and the knights likewise draped dull-colored banners over their armor.
The wagons that had once been filled with precious wine, silk, and gold and silver treasures now carried thirty-four respectfully prepared corpses, while musicians played low-pitched dirges at regular intervals.
Talia, listening blankly to the sound from inside her carriage, felt her dormant pain flare up again and fumbled for her incense burner.
The cold brass pot was filled with nothing but piles of ash.
Muttering a short curse, Talia struggled to lift her body from where it lay sprawled on the cushions. She opened a chest tucked under the seat and pulled out a new incense stick.
It was a hardened mixture of dried Frost Grass, Evening Primrose, Mandrake leaves, and Red Shard Flowers.
She placed it in the pot and lit it using a magic stone, causing thick, hazy smoke to rise.
Talia felt her mind being shrouded in a heavy fog and slumped back onto the blankets.
Since the return journey began, Talia spent most of her time drugged on painkillers. Immersed in the acrid smoke, tomorrow became today, and today became yesterday.
In her half-conscious state, she was vaguely aware of a mage occasionally coming to check her condition or a royal guard bothering her with food, but their presence always skimmed only the surface of her consciousness.
The only one who pulled her back into the painful reality was Barkas.
Looking up at the silhouette that appeared as the carriage door opened, Talia narrowed her bleary, unfocused eyes.
For some reason, her carriage, which had occupied the very end of the procession, had been moved to the front section and was now under the intensive guard of the Captain of the Imperial Knights. Perhaps he felt the need to personally monitor her so she couldn’t cause any more trouble.
Stepping into the carriage, Barkas leaned over her as she lay scattered like seaweed.
She felt his cold fingers brush a few strands of hair away from her sweat-soaked forehead.
“Do not burn the incense so frequently. You will develop a tolerance quickly at this rate.”
“…….”
She stared at his face as if it were a long-overdue homework assignment.
The man, who had been silent as if waiting for her reaction, let out a soft sigh.
“We plan to camp here for the night.”
The sun had set and the carriage had stopped, so of course they were planning to spend the night here.
She couldn’t fathom why he was explaining things that didn’t need to be said. He was a man who remained silent even when he absolutely should have spoken, wasn’t he?
