Varkas turned around without a word.
Practically dragged out of the room by him, Talia scanned her surroundings with anxious eyes. A belated wave of dread washed over her, fear that someone would take issue with that disastrous succession ceremony.
Yet most of the vassals looked relieved, as if a crushing weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
“This will finally restore order to the East.”
A man who had caught up to them spoke. His face was familiar; she recalled seeing him on the day of Varkas’s duel.
Dressed impeccably in fine formal wear, he offered her a slight bow before turning his gaze back to Varkas.
“Do you intend to begin the provincial tour today?”
“If there are no issues.”
Varkas gave a blunt reply, then looked down at Talia.
“Can you leave at once?”
“…Go where?”
“It is one of the principal rites of succession. A ceremonial progress through the Eastern lands to present the new ruler’s face to the people and inspect the provinces,” the man interjected to explain. Talia looked up at him, bewildered.
“Must I go as well?”
“Customarily, it is standard for the Grand Duchess to accompany him, but…”
He trailed off into uncertainty, glancing at Varkas. Varkas, who had been striding quietly down the corridor, came to an abrupt halt.
Talia flinched as fingers touched her cheek. Lifting her chin, Varkas spoke in an even tone.
“Your Highness must come as well.”
Talia’s eyes widened. It was the first time since she had injured her leg that he had forced anything upon her like this.
“Did you not tell me never to hide you?”
He added the words stiffly, fixing her with a chilling look.
“I intend to do exactly as you wished. From this day forward, not a soul in this land will fail to know you are the Grand Duchess of Shearkan.”
Her mouth fell open. She had thought this would end with showing her face to the vassals; she had never dreamed she would be paraded before the entire population of the East.
Talia swallowed dryly.
“I—I cannot depart this instant. I have to pack, and Nanny and my physician need to—”
“I have already instructed Your Highness’s attendants. Their preparations should be complete by now.”
He cut her off, shutting down every avenue of retreat.
Talia’s eyes darted frantically. Before she could invent another excuse, Varkas leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. Talia swallowed a cry and threw her arms around his neck.
Ignoring her fluster, Varkas marched down the stairs and across the great hall, throwing orders to the vassals as he walked.
“Have the lancer corps stand by. We ride for the Norden Plains.”
He swept through the arched gates where the sunlight poured down. Talia squinted against the sudden glare. As her vision cleared, she saw the courtyard packed with attendants.
Talia stiffened under their stares. They were looking at her as if she were some bizarre creature.
A memory struck her—the monstrous bird she had once seen at the Imperial Palace. She recalled the fascinated eyes of onlookers peering through the bars at the caged beast.
As nausea swelled inside her, Talia pressed her face into his shoulder.
“Tell them not to stare at me. It makes my skin crawl.”
“…I doubt they would obey such an order,” Varkas replied flatly. Talia glared at him as if he had lost his mind.
“You are the Grand Duke now. Tell them you will execute anyone who disobeys. Or tell them you will impale them on a spear like before.”
A faint, mocking curve touched his lips.
“Would you have me slaughter the entire East?”
Talia frowned. Was this man actually joking with her?
As she studied his impassive face, searching for any crack in the mask, Varkas added calmly,
“If I executed everyone who looked at you, the Khan would soon be extinct.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I meant you should threaten them.”
“Easterners do not deal in idle threats. Once spoken, the word must be answered with blood.”
Talia sat in a daze. She could hardly believe she was having such absurd banter with Varkas. She had not burned any sleeping herbs, yet a corner of her mind felt woolly and dull.
Wetting her dry lips, she muttered sourly,
“That was a very long way of telling me to endure it.”
“I am glad you understand.”
His mouth twisted with dry cynicism as he turned her head to face forward. Talia drew in her shoulders. A smooth, low voice brushed against her ear.
“Hold your head high.”
Shifting his grip so that her head was elevated above his own, Varkas murmured,
“Did you not say that even if you hide yourself, I am never to hide you?”
A gust of wind cut past them. As though drawn by an unseen force, Talia lifted her chin.
The cool breeze, laden with the dry scent of grass, swept through their robes. The vile sensation crawling across her skin gradually faded. Talia blinked slowly.
Thin silk brushed softly against her flesh. She gazed up at the clear sky for a long moment before letting her eyes drop back to the grounds.
The people were still staring unblinkingly. Yet Talia sensed something different in their eyes.
Something akin to awe. A strange shiver ran down her spine. They were looking at her as though she were Senevier. Realizing this, Talia looked back up at Varkas.
Was it because this man was beside her? She could hardly believe no one saw that she was broken.
“Greetings, Your Grace.”
As Varkas crossed the sprawling courtyard to the castle gates, one of the knights arrayed in tidy formation stepped forward and bowed his head. It was the warrior named Tyrone.
Halting before a massive traveling carriage, Varkas answered indifferently,
“I am merely the deputy.”
“You hold all true authority already, do you not?”
Tyrone crossed his arms, letting out an easy chuckle.
“Everyone is beside themselves with joy to see a strong young lord take charge. Do not pour cold water on their spirits.”
Varkas ignored him as though he were beneath notice and pulled open the carriage door.
Talia narrowed her eyes, taking in the comfortably appointed interior. She felt she finally understood why he had not shown his face for a full week. Between securing the vassals’ allegiance, forcing the Grand Duke to concede the succession, and arranging every detail of this tour, he must have been occupied without a moment’s rest.
He stepped inside and set her down on the wide bench. Just as he went to pull the door shut, the warrior outside caught the handle.
“I have one request. Please permit Lord Lucas to accompany this journey.”
“Did you not hear that I confined the boy to his quarters?”
Tyrone let out a quiet sigh.
“I heard. But Lord Lucas is your younger brother. In a few years he is to serve as your right hand. Rather than keeping him penned at a desk like a ten-year-old child, would it not be wiser to let him learn in the field?”
A faint crease settled between Varkas’s brows. He studied the man’s sun-darkened face, weighed the words, and finally let out a heavy breath.
“Very well. Assign him as my squire.”
A satisfied look crossed the man’s face as he stepped back. Varkas shut the door at once and sat on the bench opposite her.
Talia watched him, awkward and uncertain. Whenever they traveled, Varkas invariably rode Toruk. When he showed no sign of leaving the carriage even after several moments had passed, she ventured carefully,
“Are you not riding your horse?”
Varkas, who had been unbuckling the heavy ornaments at his wrists, cast her a cool sideways glance.
“Do you wish for me to step down?”
“Who said that? I was only curious.”
At his unusually sharp tone, Talia lowered her gaze and muttered under her breath.
After what she had done, she could not muster her usual insolence. She shrank back against the carriage wall, pretending to gaze out the window for no good reason.
He leaned his head back against the seat, raking a hand through his unkempt hair.
“As Your Highness can imagine, endless rumors surround our marriage. To quiet the talk, we must appear as an ordinary couple for the time being.”
END