70
Varkas, who had been breathing in the cool air thick with the smell of rain, turned back toward her.
A bleak shadow lay over eyes as still as early dawn.
She wondered what thoughts flickered beneath that surface of an icy lake.
Was he brooding over a future now tangled beyond repair, or already regretting what he had done?
As if to mock her vow never to concern herself with him again, the questions rose unbidden in Talia’s mind.
‘Just as I thought. It was never because you cared for Ayla that you meant to marry her.’
‘I knew it.’
‘You’re a man incapable of burning with passion for anyone.’
In truth, it likely hardly mattered who stood beside him.
That was how he could play the solicitous fiancé to Ayla, and why he could now enact the role of a plausible guardian to her.
Talia rubbed the corner of her mouth where his fingers had touched, wiping away every trace.
Talia Roem Guirta was nothing more than one among the countless burdens he had chosen to shoulder. She would not be taken in by meaningless kindness thrown her way like alms.
She turned her back to him and pulled the duvet over her head.
At some point, sleep must have taken her.
Her body, strung taut all day, gave way all at once under the heavy wine.
Buried face-first in the pillow, her limbs lay limp beneath the soft bedding. She had drifted in that haze for who knew how long when a prickling ache began to gnaw at her knees.
Shifting against the dull discomfort, Talia felt the pain sharpen and forced her heavy eyelids apart. Only pitch-black darkness met her blurred sight.
The daze that had weighed her down vanished in an instant. Talia stared into the utter dark, terror seizing her chest.
The suffocating night, devoid of a single sliver of light, choked the air from her lungs. As she panted, clutching her constricted throat, the ache in her knees flared into a sudden, vicious strike like lightning.
She reached down and seized her calves with both hands. The withered muscle spasmed violently beneath her palms. A cold sweat broke across her back from pain that felt like blades driving into bone.
Biting down hard on her lower lip, Talia dug her fingernails into the contorting knot of muscle.
Right then, the spark of flint cracked through the room, and light struck her face. When she snapped her head up, she met a small, flickering candle and Varkas’s pale silhouette.
Seeing her bloodless face, his expression hardened, and he leaned over the bed.
Without a thought, Talia let out a shrill scream.
“Don’t touch me!”
She shoved wildly at the hands reaching for her legs and scrambled toward the far side of the bed. But she was caught almost immediately.
Pinning her shoulders down with one firm hand so she could not thrash, Varkas reached for the calves gouged by her own nails.
Talia shrieked as though boiling oil were being poured over her skin.
“No! Don’t touch me!”
“Be still. I am only checking the wound.”
“No! I said don’t!”
As she twisted her entire body, gasping as if she might black out, he muttered something inaudible and dragged her upper body hard against him. Holding her tightly enough to curb her struggles, he reached out with one hand and jerked the bellpull hanging above the bed.
A moment later, the bedroom door burst open, and pale, panicked maids poured in.
Varkas barked an order.
“Summon a healer immediately!”
Bedlam followed.
While an elderly mage rushed into the chamber to cast restorative magic, the maids hurried about lighting candles and set soothing incense beside the bed.
Through all the noise, Varkas held her clamped in his arms, never letting go.
Pressed hard against his thudding chest, Talia looked about with wild, frightened eyes.
She was terrified someone might peel back her skirts to inspect her legs. Curling her knees as tight as she could, she clutched the fabric around her like armor.
Presently, the disheveled mage held out a bluish glass phial before her.
“Drink this, and the pain will ease at once.”
Talia glared at it, her eyes narrowing.
‘If I drink that, I’ll lose consciousness. Someone will pull back my skirt while I’m under.’
She pressed her lips tightly shut and jerked her head away.
Long fingers took hold of her chin, forcing her head up. The rim of the phial pressed hard against her mouth, but Talia clenched her teeth and fought back.
With eyes as cold as thin ice, Varkas brought the bottle to his own mouth.
Before she could register what he meant to do, lips wet with the bitter draught came down over hers.
Talia’s eyes snapped wide.
Cupping her jaw and pressing firmly into her cheek, Varkas forced his tongue between her parted lips. Instantly, the bitter fluid flooded her mouth.
Talia’s hands clenched into his thin shirt so hard the fabric strained.
She could not make sense of it at all. Swallowing against the pooling medicine, her throat tightened around his tongue.
Tongue moved against tongue in a slow, heavy rub. A broken whimper escaped into the seam between their lips.
Had he fed her poison? Her throat felt as if it were searing with fire.
“Hah…”
Their lips, pressed together for what felt an unnaturally long time, finally pulled apart.
Talia stared up at him, the throbbing pain in her legs entirely forgotten.
Looking down into her dilated eyes, Varkas tilted the phial once more and tipped the remaining liquid into his mouth.
Again his mouth came down upon hers. Talia dug her nails into his forearm.
Prying past her wet lips, his tongue forced the medicine—heavy with the scent of wild, dark roots—down into her throat. Her throat convulsed, swallowing him down instinctively, entirely apart from her will.
Talia curled her toes, overwhelmed by shame, bewilderment, and a sensation so vivid she had never known anything like it.
Whether the draught had begun to take hold, the room began to spin.
Tepid spit slid down into her throat. Even after the bitterness had faded from her tongue, he continued to part the narrow, wet space within her mouth, moving with a slick deliberation that made her doubt this was merely medicine.
When she struck his chest in panic, that soft weight slowly drew back.
Talia gasped for breath, looking up at him.
Unlike her, undone and trembling, his face remained as calm as ever. That stillness made the confusion swirling inside her head all the more unbearable.
‘Was what just happened only my own delusion?’
While she stood paralyzed by the thought, his thumb brushed across her lips. Only when she heard the wet sound did she realize her mouth was completely slick.
Talia quickly ducked beneath the duvet. A warm sigh stirred the hair at the crown of her head.
“…Sleep now.”
He cupped her head and brought it back against his chest. Wrapped in that warm, steady rhythm, her ragged breathing slowly settled.
Before long, the draught spread throughout her limbs. Feeling her vision blur and fade, she tightened her grip on his shirt.
‘Don’t you dare touch my legs while I’m asleep.’ Whether he caught the faint mutter or not, his hand stroked gently down her back.
Soon after, all strength slipped from her limbs, and the darkness took her. She fell into sleep like dropping off an edge.
When she opened her eyes again, bright daylight flooded the room.
Staring at the ceiling with sleep still clouding her mind, Talia flinched and turned at the sense of another presence.
Varkas stood by the window, changing his clothes.
The morning light cutting through the glass fell white over a body carved like marble. As she stared as if spellbound, his quiet eyes drifted toward her.
Talia drew her shoulders inward.
As though the night before had never happened, Varkas looked down at her with an entirely blank, indifferent face.
END