Ch#81
“My apologies. I was shortsighted.”
The man immediately bowed his head. Varkas entered his bedroom without offering a response.
A page quickly followed after him. Dismissing him with a light gesture, Varkas sat on a chair, personally removed his armor and clothes, and arranged them neatly. He then soaked his body in the bathwater the servants had prepared in advance.
Having ridden all day, his body was likely thick with the scent of dust and horses.
After washing every inch of himself in the clear water, he pulled on a dark navy doublet and wool trousers. Standing before the mirror in boots that rose to his shins, a neatly groomed silhouette met his eyes.
His body, tempered by years of training, was perfectly disciplined to maintain a flawless posture at any given moment.
He stared at the man in the mirror—who looked as though he had been cast in the Imperial Palace—for a long while before picking up his overcoat and leaving the room.
Just as he was about to head toward the hall, he spotted a woman descending the stairs. Recognizing her as the healer dispatched from the Imperial Palace, Varkas immediately called out to her.
“Why are you coming down from upstairs?”
The woman hurriedly bowed her head.
“Her Highness the Princess summoned me…”
He narrowed his eyes. He had expected Thalia wouldn’t listen to him, but seeing the evidence with his own eyes sparked a faint flicker of irritation.
He asked in a stiff tone, “What is Her Highness’s condition?”
“She seemed better than usual, perhaps thanks to a full day of rest. Her fever has completely broken. However, the pain in her leg seems to persist…”
“Did you burn the sleeping herb again?”
Whether she read the hint of accusation in his tone or not, the healer’s face stiffened visibly. The woman spoke as if making an excuse.
“Her Highness suffers from extreme chronic pain. Using the sleeping herb is the best measure to alleviate that suffering.”
He scrutinized the woman’s face with a sharp gaze.
Could he truly trust a healer sent by the Empress? She was a woman who treated her own daughter like a pawn. There was no telling what schemes she might be running behind the scenes.
He studied the woman’s face intently, as if gauging her inner thoughts, before giving a nod to signal she could leave.
The woman bowed and descended the stairs at a pace that was neither fast nor slow.
Varkas watched her retreating figure for a moment before heading toward Thalia’s bedroom.
When he knocked on the firmly closed door, a slightly thick voice drifted out.
“Come in.”
The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, cool air brushed against his cheeks. He knit his brows. Contrary to his expectation that the room would be filled with heavy smoke, the spacious bedroom was instead thick with only a faint floral scent and the smell of dried grass.
Calming his turbulent inner thoughts, he slowly scanned the cluttered room.
Eventually, he discovered a small shadow sitting on the windowsill.
Varkas was about to call her name but suddenly fell silent. He didn’t know what it was that had sealed his lips.
Bathed in the pouring light of the sunset, the woman turned her head toward him. As their eyes met, an inexplicable anxiety grew stronger.
Tugging at the collar of his doublet, he strode toward her. After firmly locking the wide-open window, he brought the back of his hand to her pale, glowing cheek, feeling a chill as cold as ice.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“I am asking how long you have been exposing yourself to the cold wind.”
Her eyes narrowed. As a pouty expression filled her small face, she looked about two years younger than her actual age.
She swatted his hand away and spoke bluntly.
“I don’t know. Who cares?”
“What if your fever returns?”
“Then it returns, so what?”
He frowned. Whenever he exchanged words with this woman, strange impulses reared their heads. He felt a desire to make her listen even if he had to use force, while simultaneously feeling a bizarre urge to coax her gently.
He took a step back as if to shake off those peculiar emotions. Seeing him put some distance between them, the tension seemed to drain from her stiff shoulders.
Thalia, hugging her knees with both arms, looked him up and down before speaking sullenly.
“More importantly, why are you all dressed up?”
“Guests have arrived, so we plan to hold a small banquet.”
“Guests?”
“Regional lords from the East. I’m told they’ve come to make an impression on me.”
“Hmm…”
She made a curious sound while fiddling with the hem of his overcoat. He watched her hand silently.
After plucking at his sleeve for a long time, the woman spoke hesitantly.
“Shouldn’t I be attending too?”
He raised his gaze again. A face so beautiful it felt uncanny filled his vision.
She was a woman who stimulated the emotions of others to an extraordinary degree. Even he, who kept most of his senses under strict control, felt strange impulses around her. He could tell without looking what kind of chaos she would cause here.
He paused for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
He couldn’t keep her hidden forever, but at the very least, he didn’t want her catching people’s eyes until he had the East firmly under his control.
“There is no need for that. I will explain things to the vassals, so Your Highness should focus on resting for the time being.”
“…It’s because you’re ashamed of me, isn’t it?”
Suddenly, there was an edge to her voice. Varkas, who was about to turn toward the door, paused and looked down at her.
Tearing at her scabbed lips, she said mockingly, “Are you already regretting taking a cripple as your wife?”
He clenched his fists tight. He felt as though if he didn’t, he might do something regrettable. Taking a long breath, Varkas looked down at her with cold eyes, waiting for his sharp emotions to subside. At that, the hostility in her eyes became even more distinct. In an instant, the words he had been suppressing finally scraped their way up his throat.
“Sometimes I honestly can’t tell. Whether the things you say are meant to stab me, or to wound yourself…”
Her mouth went rigid as if she were at a loss for words.
He stared down at her face, which was thick with distrust, before letting out a faint sigh and turning away.
“I will send for a maid, so please prepare yourself. If you truly wish to attend, I will not stop you.”
“Forget it.”
Thalia, hopping down from the windowsill, snapped coldly.
“I think my fever will go up just from being around you.”
With that, she stumbled toward the bed and threw herself onto the sheets. Varkas watched her for a moment before finally leaving the room.
As he descended the stairs and stepped into the Great Hall, hundreds of eyes flew toward him.
They rose from their seats in unison.
“You have arrived, Young Family Head.”
One of the vassals positioned near the entrance offered a polite bow.
He accepted the greeting with a slight nod and slowly crossed the hall.
High-ranking nobles in splendid attire and his own relatives occupied the tables in the center of the banquet hall, while men in much humbler clothing were seated around them as if surrounding the center.
As he passed them and reached the seat of honor, the faint melody flowing through the hall abruptly stopped. He scanned the assembly slowly before offering a formal greeting.
“I thank you for traveling such a long way. I ask for your understanding if the hospitality is lacking.”
“Lacking? Perish the thought! This is the finest wine I have ever tasted in my life!”
One of the men sitting around the long table shouted boisterously.
Varkas turned his gaze toward him. Embroidered on the flamboyant overcoat wrapped around the man’s body was the crest of a black bear. It was the symbol of the Gutban family, which dominated the southeastern region.
The man held his wine glass high and continued in a provocative tone.
“The gifts bestowed by His Imperial Majesty are indeed different. I wonder if it is even acceptable for wretches like us to touch them to our lips. Is this not the reward the Young Family Head received as the price for a lifetime of devotion?”
The man, shouting in a theatrical tone, gulped down the wine and slammed the glass down with a loud bang.
“When I think of it as the sweat and tears shed by the Young Family Head, this fine wine tastes quite bitter.”
A heavy silence descended upon the hall.
Varkas leaned back against his chair and twisted the corners of his mouth.
“It seems you’ve come looking for a fight.”
