Ch#92
92
The thick scent of water and the sharp tang of peppermint rushed into her lungs.
Thalia looked up at him with trembling eyes. Varkas, leaning over her, let a low voice slip into her ear.
“If Your Highness makes such a fuss, there is no point in us sharing a room.”
His reproving tone snapped her back to her senses. She swatted his hand away and hurriedly pulled back.
As the distance grew, his smoothly gleaming, sculpted physique came into full view.
Thalia hastily cast her gaze downward.
“Put some clothes on! Have you no shame?”
When she snapped at him in a hushed, rebuking voice, a slight crease formed between his brows.
Shaking his head as if exasperated, Varkas straightened up and spoke dryly.
“That is hardly something to be said by someone who used to strut around the Imperial Palace dressed in next to nothing at every opportunity.”
“When did I ever…!”
Thalia, who had jerked her head up with an indignant expression, fell silent when she saw him pulling on a fresh shirt. Sliding his arms into the sleeves, Varkas threw a pointed remark.
“From the time your coming-of-age ceremony approached, you began to clumsily imitate the Empress.”
Thalia’s face contorted in humiliation.
As memories of those days—when she had struggled desperately to catch even a glimpse of his attention—surfaced, a surge of sorrow welled up within her.
She snatched the pillow from the head of the bed and struck him across the back with all her might.
“Well, now that I have a body that can’t even dream of wearing such clothes, you must be quite relieved!”
Varkas, who had been fastening his buttons, looked back at her with a cold gaze.
Thalia, huffing with rage, suddenly froze. Since the accident, Varkas had silently endured every fit of temper she threw. However, it seemed his patience was finally beginning to run thin.
The man, sending her a ruthless look, climbed onto the bed. Thalia rolled toward the opposite side almost instinctively. She tried to flee, but a firm forearm wrapped around her waist.
Pinned down again in an instant, Thalia looked up at him with stiffened eyes.
He was a man who would resolutely subdue her using physical force whenever she spiraled out of control and ran wild. Therefore, even though his somewhat rough actions were not entirely unfamiliar, her heart sank.
Varkas brought his face close and spoke threateningly.
“It would be best if you started fixing that habit of using your hands.”
Thalia looked up at him with terrified eyes. His expressionless gaze settled on her lips, which were stinging from being bitten so much. He added slowly.
“And your habit of self-harm.”
Her faltering heart began to throb as if it might explode.
She couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or some other emotion.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“G-get away.”
“…”
“Didn’t you hear me? Move!”
Varkas did not budge. Under his persistent stare, her lips felt parched.
She tucked her lips, which were encrusted with dried blood, into her mouth. Watching her with narrowed eyes, Varkas released the hand that had been pinning her wrist. But before she could use her freed hand for anything, her chin was caught.
Thalia drew a sharp breath. His calloused fingers forcibly pulled out her tucked-in lips. His damp fingertips brushed over the swollen membrane.
“Stop tormenting your lips.”
Thalia looked up at him with eyes clouded by a mixture of anxiety and confusion.
If anyone else had touched her that way, she would have taken it as a sexual overture. During the days she frequented Empress Senebier’s banquet halls, hadn’t she dealt with countless men who were itching to lay a hand on her?
However, his indifferent face, devoid of even a trace of desire, muddled her judgment. It felt as though this contact, which felt like her heart was being squeezed, was an action that truly meant nothing to him.
Thalia exhaled a stifled breath.
“I-I get it, so… go away.”
At her pleading tone, his eyes, containing silver shards, drifted upward. It felt as if his bottomless pupils were stripping away all her reason.
Thalia habitually stuck out her tongue to moisten her lips. Then, her tongue-tip brushed his thumb, and her face flushed bright red. Varkas was observing her reaction carefully. He seemed to be checking if she truly disliked it.
Feeling as though her inner thoughts were being completely laid bare, cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Thalia blurted out urgently.
“M-my legs hurt.”
Varkas hesitated.
She twisted her head to the side and repeated in a tight voice.
“I said I woke up because it hurts. C-call a healer.”
Only then did he finally pull back.
Thalia scurried to the corner of the bed like a beast released from a trap. Varkas watched her with contemplative eyes before turning away with a short sigh.
“I have already received medicine in advance.”
“I don’t need medicine. Sleeping grass works a hundred times better. If you call my healer, she’ll take care of it…”
A cold gaze flew her way again at her surly words. Thalia’s voice trailed off as she pulled the blanket up to her chin.
Varkas picked up a glass bottle from the shelf, opened the cap, and held it out. After glaring at it as if it were a mortal enemy, Thalia reluctantly took the bottle. It was the medicine she had been pouring into flowerpots every time since the first day she arrived in the East, after being forced to swallow it down then.
She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to gulp down the liquid, which was so bitter it felt like it was burning her tongue.
He naturally took the empty bottle and laid her back down on the bed. His detached manner, as if he were handling a ten-year-old child, made her mind even more complicated.
What was that action just now? Was he trying to scare her? Or…
“Go to sleep now. You must get enough rest to handle tomorrow’s schedule.”
The train of thought was snapped by his hand straightening the blanket.
Thalia watched him as if observing a viper that might turn on her at any moment.
Whether he noticed her wariness or not, Varkas dimmed the lamp and walked to the corner of the tent. He sat at the table and opened a book that looked like a ledger. He seemed to be reviewing the financial records of this place.
Thalia watched his dry, monotonous figure with bated breath, wondering when he would lie down beside her. But as the night grew deep, he did not move from the desk.
Eventually, she was the one who succumbed to exhaustion.
Thalia, who had fallen into a deep sleep at some point, woke up the next morning alone in the empty tent. It was a morning that made the tension she had felt all night about sharing a bed with him seem pointless.
Surveying the dim tent soaked in the morning dawn with eyes still heavy with sleep, Thalia let out a hollow sigh.
He had promised from the start that nothing would happen. So why had she been so anxious?
“My Lady, are you awake?”
As she was searching the space beside her to see if any trace of him remained, her Nanny’s voice drifted in from outside the tent.
Thalia climbed down from the bed with unsteady steps.
“I’m up.”
Soon after, the Nanny entered the tent with quick steps, balancing a large tray on her head.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
She looked unusually cheerful. With a beaming smile on her lips, the Nanny chattered as she set down the tray filled with food.
“I’ve prepared breakfast. I think you’ll like it this time, My Lady. The manager here served a bountiful meal last night, and every single dish was delicious.”
Thalia frowned as she looked down at the gold-plated bowls. They were piled high with porridge made of various grains, rustic white bread, pungent cheese, and sticky jam. Just looking at it made her feel nauseous.
“Forget it, just bring me some honey wine.”
“You can’t. The Grand Duke gave me a proper scolding to make sure I take care of your meals. Is it alright with you if I get punished by His Grace?”
Thalia, who had picked up a piece of bread and was inspecting it to see if any flies were stuck to it, shot her a suspicious look.
The Nanny was someone who firmly believed that, in a corner of his heart, the Emperor cherished his daughter born out of wedlock. She was likely attaching excessive meaning to a passing remark this time as well.
Thalia spoke cynically.
“And where did that Grand Duke go so early in the morning?”
