He found himself worrying that she would fall ill if she remained out in the cold wind much longer.
Leaning one shoulder against the window frame, Varkas silently followed her movements with his eyes.
Her gait had become much steadier now.
As long as she walked slowly at an even pace, it was almost impossible to notice that one of her legs had once been injured.
The improvement, however, never lasted for long.
Her weakened muscles would begin to spasm after only a little exertion, and after ten minutes or so, her limp became noticeably pronounced again.
She never showed it outwardly, but the pain seemed no different than before.
Standing with his arms folded, idly tapping his forearm with his fingertips, Varkas finally picked up the coat he had set aside.
He doubted he would be able to put his mind at ease unless he observed her condition himself.
He walked around the solid oak desk, crossed the carpeted office, opened the door, and stepped into the corridor.
Just then, he encountered Daren coming up the stairs.
"Your Grace."
Clutching what appeared to be a telegram in one hand, the man strode directly toward him.
A bad feeling settled in Varkas's chest, and he furrowed his brow.
"What is it?"
"The agents we dispatched to the North have sent an urgent report. I believe it would be best to convene an emergency council."
With a grave expression, Daren held out the tightly rolled paper.
Taking it, Varkas quickly scanned the cipher, written in a mixture of the eastern script and the Empire's common tongue.
The contents were unmistakable.
The North was preparing for war.
And not halfheartedly.
"Have we received anything yet from the people we planted in the capital?"
"No, not yet."
Which meant the unrest in the North had not yet reached the Central Region.
It also meant House Heimdal was proceeding with extreme caution.
Running a hand roughly through the hair that had fallen across his forehead, he said,
"This isn't enough information. Until we know exactly what's happening, make certain no rumors spread. Select only the advisers we can trust and summon them to the assembly hall."
"Do you have anyone specific in mind?"
"Beyrov, Lergen, Labomir... Those three should suffice."
As Varkas listed the subordinates he had long kept an eye on, Daren stroked his chin and nodded.
"They're all tight-lipped men. If it's them, they'll handle the matter carefully. I'll have them waiting in the council chamber immediately."
As Daren turned to leave, Varkas slipped the telegram into the inner pocket of his coat and headed downstairs without delay.
His thoughts were instantly consumed by the increasingly precarious situation in the northeastern territories.
He considered every possible course of action.
According to protocol, he ought to report the situation to the Imperial Family.
But was that truly the wisest decision?
House Heimdal would never have begun walking such a dangerous tightrope without securing guarantees first.
There was every chance they had already won over not only high-ranking officials within the Imperial Court but numerous nobles as well.
If even one of the great noble houses betrayed the Empire, the imperial order could collapse overnight.
For now, they needed to gather information while quietly tightening the noose around Valto beneath the surface.
Feeling a sharp ache spread from his temple to the bridge of his nose, he rubbed at the corner of his eye.
Just then, a cool, clear voice called from nearby.
"Varkas?"
Varkas, who had just left the Great Hall on his way toward the military administration building, came to an abrupt halt.
Only moments earlier, his wife had been strolling through the rear garden.
Now she was standing near the pavilion in front of the main keep.
She quickly rose to her feet.
"What are you doing here at this hour? I thought you were still out handling official business..."
As she hurried toward him, she suddenly stumbled badly.
Varkas immediately caught her around the waist.
The frail body in his arms weighed almost nothing.
His throat tightened, and his mouth went dry.
Looking down at her flushed face with obvious disapproval, his gaze lingered on the faint blush staining her neck and earlobes.
His body reacted in a way he found unwelcome.
Ignoring it, he carefully steadied her.
"Please be more careful."
"I usually am. You were the one who appeared out of nowhere."
She grumbled quietly with her eyes lowered.
Her tone was as prickly as ever, yet somehow lacked its usual energy.
Straightening her rumpled collar, he lightly pressed the back of his hand against her reddened cheek.
"Your fever hasn't completely subsided yet. Why have you come outside instead of resting in your room?"
"I'm tired of staying inside the bedroom. The smell of burning firewood makes my throat sting..."
His brows drew together.
It was true that she had been coughing more often ever since they had begun heating the rooms.
He would have to arrange a mana-stone heater before long.
"Even so, don't stay outside for too long. The air is cold."
"Then when am I ever supposed to wear this cloak?"
She shot him an incredulous look.
After a brief silence, Varkas answered matter-of-factly.
"You can wear it whenever you go out with me."
Apparently she hadn't expected that answer.
Eyes the color of an autumn sky widened slightly.
Lowering her long lashes to hide the disturbance in her expression, she replied in a deliberately indifferent voice,
"You're busy every waking moment. How am I supposed to know when you'll have time?"
"Soon..."
He was about to promise that he would make time.
Then he remembered the message from Valto and closed his mouth.
Feeling irritation rise within him, he rubbed between his brows.
Watching his expression, Talia quietly took a step backward.
"Forget it. You don't have to worry about me. Just go take care of your work."
She turned toward the entrance of the keep.
Almost reflexively, he caught hold of her.
His reflection appeared once again in her widened eyes.
"I'll escort you back to your room."
"No. I can walk there myse—"
Ignoring her protest, he effortlessly lifted her into his arms.
She glared at him for a moment.
Then, as though resigning herself to the inevitable, she rested her head against his shoulder.
Supporting her securely with one arm, he nodded toward the quarter-dwarf waiting awkwardly a short distance away.
"Go to the military administration office and tell them I'll arrive in about one shijin. Have them wait."
"Y-Yes, Your Grace."
Passing the woman, who bowed repeatedly in confusion, he entered the hall.
The servants bustling about immediately turned to stare.
Ignoring the looks of astonishment—as though they were witnessing something extraordinarily rare—he climbed the stairs with long strides.
Near the entrance to his bedchamber stood a young maid, pacing anxiously.
"What are you doing?"
Approaching her, he spoke.
Startled, the young maid standing outside the door immediately bowed deeply.
"Your Grace. This morning Her Grace the Grand Duchess said she wanted some fresh fruit, so I hurried to the market to procure some. However, it seems she stepped out for a while, so I've been waiting here."
Varkas lowered his eyes to the tray she was carrying.
Inside a silver bowl lay a cluster of wild grapes and several neatly peeled slices of pear.
She had always lived mostly on fruit and drinks sweetened with honey.
Even then, she would only take a few bites after her nurse pleaded with her again and again.
He had never once heard her say, of her own accord, that she wanted to eat something.
For some reason, that made him unexpectedly pleased.
Adjusting Talia in one arm, he accepted the bowl with the other.
"Thank you. I'll take care of it from here. You may go."
He then opened the bedroom door and walked inside.
"Did you want some fruit?"
Setting her gently into a heavily cushioned chair, he crouched before her.
An uneasy expression greeted him.
Pressing her lips together as though concealing her feelings, Talia answered with feigned indifference.
"That's not the fruit I wanted."
"Then what fruit did you want?"
She hesitated, nervously twisting the fabric of her dress between her fingers.
Only after a long silence did she mumble softly,
"...Strawberries."
Fine lines formed around his eyes.
They had long since gone out of season.
Knowing that she was well aware of it herself, she hurriedly added, almost defensively,
"I only told them to see if they could find any somewhere. I wasn't making unreasonable demands or throwing a tantrum. Asking someone to check the market isn't exactly an impossible request."
"You may assign errands like that as often as you wish."
His reply came in an unexpectedly firm voice.
Seeing her behave as though she were cautiously gauging his reaction filled him with a strange sense of unease.
Did she truly think I would scold her over something so trivial?
Feeling the tightness in his throat sink into the pit of his stomach, he gently lifted her chin.
"Do you really want strawberries?"
"I just... suddenly thought of them."
"It won't be possible today, but I'll have some brought to you within a few days."
The woman who had been avoiding his eyes slowly met his gaze.
Growing oddly impatient, he added,
"If there's anything else you wish to eat, tell me. Anything at all."
