Varkas brushed his thumb over her lips, then rested the bridge of his straight nose against her temple.
"On that day, I'll keep the room dark."
Resting her shoulder against his broad chest, Talia let her eyes wander before slowly nodding.
He cupped the tip °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° of her chin and quietly searched her eyes.
Just as an inexplicable sense of shame made her want to run away, Varkas lowered his lips once more. This time it was a light kiss, like a bird rubbing its beak against another.
That featherlight touch crumbled something deep inside her heart. As if denying it, Talia squeezed her eyes shut.
* * *
After that day, Talia naturally began staying in his bedchamber. She justified it by claiming she needed to keep an eye on the healer she still didn't trust.
Yet even after his treatments were over, she never left the room.
Whenever he asked her to feed him his medicine, she would pretend to give in reluctantly, lingering until, somehow or another, she ended up falling asleep in his bed.
Barely a month had passed since she had caused a scene, insisting that she would rather die than stop sleeping in her own room.
She was disgusted with herself, yet Talia dragged every excuse she could find into service to justify her actions.
This is only temporary.
He's injured, and I simply can't bring myself to abandon him while he's hurt. That's all. I'm only compromising for now.
Once Varkas had fully recovered, she intended to retreat beyond the line she had drawn between them.
Which was precisely why her anger toward him for refusing to take proper care of himself was entirely justified. The slower his recovery, the longer this ambiguous state of affairs would continue.
Having stewed over it all day, Talia finally confronted him the moment he returned to his room late that evening.
"You have no right to lecture me about my health."
Varkas, who had just stepped inside, looked at her in puzzlement.
Throwing aside the book resting on her lap as though hurling it away, Talia jumped down from his bed and raised her voice.
"You're working like an ox every single day in that condition! You even had a fever before dawn..."
"My body was perfectly fine."
Removing his coat, Varkas answered calmly.
Talia narrowed her eyes.
"No. You were hotter than usual."
"If that was the case, it probably wasn't because of a fever."
She stared blankly for a moment before her face turned scarlet.
She couldn't understand how he could say something like that without changing his expression in the slightest. It seemed the very concept of embarrassment simply didn't exist for him.
Grinding her teeth, Talia said,
"The poison from that monster is still in your body. There's no way you're fine. You need proper rest until it's completely neutralized."
"I've already been finishing work earlier than usual lately."
Replying in the same emotionless tone, Varkas unfastened his sword belt and placed it on the stand.
Talia let out a hollow laugh.
Earlier that day, after pressing the head butler for answers, she had finally learned what his daily schedule actually looked like.
It bordered on torture.
She doubted even the most ascetic monk could live like that.
Every morning, Varkas rose before sunrise and headed straight for the training grounds. After completing his martial practice, he made his way to the military headquarters, where he personally inspected the training status of every unit, recruitment reports, and even the management of military supplies before working through endless stacks of official documents.
Afterward, he reviewed petitions submitted from across the East, met with members of the City Council to discuss policy, and, from time to time, attended ceremonies held by the Grand Temple or meetings of the Noble Alliance.
It was difficult to believe a single person could accomplish that much in one day.
With mounting unease, she blurted out,
"Even a healthy person would die if they lived the way you do."
"I've been trained since I was eight years old to maintain this schedule. You won't become a widow because of me, so there's no need to worry."
At his indifferent reply, Talia clenched her fists.
Had he been completely healthy, she would have thrown a pillow directly into that infuriatingly impassive face.
"And how can you be so certain? Every person who dies from overwork thinks exactly the way you do. They all overestimate their own health until one day they simply collapse and never open their eyes again. Just wait. Keep living like this, and you'll be next."
"...Is that concern, or a curse?"
Still undoing the buttons of his doublet, Varkas turned toward her with an incredulous look.
Smiling viciously like a cornered cat with its fur standing on end, Talia asked,
"Which do you think it is?"
After narrowing his eyes, Varkas let out a quiet sigh and pulled off his shirt, tossing it over a nearby chair.
The moment the lamplight revealed his bare upper body, Talia unconsciously drew in a sharp breath.
The bandages she had replaced for him the previous night were already gone.
She walked over and carefully examined his shoulder.
Only the faintest trace remained where the wound had been.
"What happened? They said it would take another day before it healed completely."
"The ointment that healer prepared worked better than expected. As soon as I confirmed the poisoning symptoms had disappeared, I had a priest finish treating it."
She swallowed hard.
"Th-that's... good."
She awkwardly stepped back.
Then gloved fingers touched her face.
"Are you finally relieved now?"
Varkas quietly asked as he gazed into her eyes.
For some reason, an icy sensation swept through her, as though the obedient hunting dog she had always believed she could handle had suddenly sunk its teeth into her throat.
Turning her head aside as if to shake off his hand, Talia answered curtly,
"Yes. There's nothing left to worry about now."
An awkward silence settled between them.
Staring at his shadow stretching across the carpet, Talia slowly lifted her head.
Eyes filled with quiet contemplation were looking down at her from only a short distance away.
Brushing the hair away from her forehead, he asked,
"What would you like me to do?"
Talia tightly gripped the folds of her skirt.
Her lips felt painfully dry.
"I..."
She couldn't understand why she kept avoiding the subject.
Wasn't this exactly why she had rushed his recovery?
Now she simply had to ask him to share her bed, just as she had planned.
Clutching her dress tighter, she moistened her parched lips.
Then a soothing voice drifted down over her head.
"If you don't wish it, I'll wait longer."
Yet even as he said that, his large hand slipped around her waist, as though he had no intention whatsoever of allowing her to leave the room.
With trembling eyes, Talia looked up at him.
If we aren't going to sleep together, then there's no reason for me to stay here.
So why can't I push this hand away?
And why... why do you want me to remain beside you?
To be satisfied simply because we're together, even if nothing happens.
Isn't that... almost like love?
At that moment, something frightening enough to resemble terror crawled down her spine.
It felt as though she were standing naked in the middle of a grand banquet hall.
She clasped her trembling hands together.
Don't expect anything.
You mustn't expect anything.
Repeating the words obsessively to herself, she forced out a strained voice.
"Put... put out all the lights."
Even if she suffocated to death, all she wanted at that moment was to hide inside the darkness.
She urged him in an anxious voice.
"Right now."
"...Are you certain you're all right?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Talia answered with a mocking laugh.
"That's the only thing I want from you. I don't want anything else."
Something subtle flickered across his face.
She didn't want to know what it meant.
Keeping her eyes fixed on the floor, Talia endured the knife-edged silence.
At last, he turned away and extinguished every light in the room one by one.
But moonlight pouring in through the windows still bathed the chamber in pale brightness.
Suppressing the tremor in her voice, Talia urged him again.
"Close the curtains too."
The man walked toward the window with excruciating slowness.
Yet instead of drawing the curtains, he simply stood there, silently gazing at the brilliant moon.
Overcome by an unidentifiable fear, Talia stared fixedly at his straight back.
Then, after standing perfectly still as though lost in thought, he suddenly strode back toward her.
Startled, Talia instinctively stepped backward.
Varkas reached out, effortlessly lifted her into his arms, and carried her straight to the bed.
She struggled on instinct.
"No! I told you to close the curtains!"
"I won't look at anything you don't want me to see."
Setting her down upon the bed, Varkas whispered into her ear.
Talia looked up at him with frightened eyes.
Bending over her, Varkas pulled the blanket up, wrapping both of them beneath it.
