Gareth watched his half-sister’s profile with suspicious eyes for a moment before abruptly turning away, irritated with himself for paying such excessive attention to every insignificant movement she made.
What did it matter what lurked inside that worthless little head of hers? The day he ascended the throne, she would be erased from this world forever anyway. All he had to do was endure until then.
As though trying to erase the irritating existence of his younger sister entirely, he drank down the harsh wine in deep gulps.
* * *
Feigning a bored expression, Talia lifted the wine to her lips.
Then she noticed the faint trembling in her fingertips and immediately set the goblet back down.
Trying as hard as possible to appear natural, she hid her hand beneath the table and moistened her parched lips.
The place where Varkas had touched her felt as though it were burning.
Their bare skin had not even met, yet it still felt that way. The sensation of the firm bones of his hand beneath those cold leather gloves seemed to have seeped all the way beneath her skin.
Tensing her shoulders to stop herself from shrinking inward, she wiped her damp palms against her skirt. The moisture-soaked fabric clung unpleasantly to her skin.
A sudden sense of disaster swept through her.
The dress she had chosen specifically to provoke Gareth now felt as though it were strangling her instead.
Feeling sharp prickling sensations along her exposed shoulders and spine, Talia clenched her fists tightly.
She knew perfectly well that man had no reason whatsoever to be looking at her.
And yet her nerves remained wound so tightly it hurt.
Talia desperately suppressed the urge to turn around and check where he was looking.
Years of practice allowed her to maintain a reasonably calm expression, but she could do nothing about the sweat slowly dampening her skin.
Feeling the thin fabric stick to her body like a layer of sticky liquid, Talia bit down hard on her lower lip.
Choosing this dress had truly been idiotic.
“Does the food not suit your taste, Your Highness?”
At the sudden voice, Talia’s shoulders twitched.
The young monk seated across from her was staring at her intently.
Was he the abbot?
Talia deliberately shrugged.
“It’s rather pathetic compared to the food served at the imperial palace.”
At her indifferent reply, the monk’s face twisted faintly.
Talia abruptly turned her head away, signaling for him to stop paying attention to her, and picked up a small piece of cake.
If she pretended to eat something, perhaps he would stop speaking to her.
With that thought, she shoved the dry thing into her mouth and mechanically chewed and swallowed.
It felt like swallowing a sponge.
Suppressing nausea, she took a sip of wine.
Then she noticed several monks persistently stealing glances at her and frowned.
Their sticky gazes felt fouler than the greasy food itself.
Talia abruptly rose from her seat.
“What a disappointing banquet. I think I’ll return and get some sleep instead.”
Gareth shot her an irritated look.
Normally, she would have thrown out several more remarks just to scrape at his nerves, but sour bile felt ready to rise from her stomach at any moment, and she could no longer remain standing there.
She hurried out of the hall.
Once she escaped the suffocating space thick with the smell of grease, alcohol, and burning candles, the nausea seemed to ease slightly.
Taking a deep breath, Talia brushed back the sweat-damp hair sticking to her forehead and slowly walked down the corridor.
She could feel the cold night air sweeping across her spine.
Wrapping her arms around the gooseflesh rising along her skin, she quickened her pace slightly.
Sometimes she no longer understood why she continued doing such things.
What meaning was there in displaying herself before others and deliberately stirring conflict?
“The Crown Prince truly cannot tolerate your existence. Sometimes it seems he loathes you even more than he loathes me.”
Senevier’s pleased voice drifted faintly through her ears.
It had probably been the day of the memorial ceremony for the late Empress Bernadette.
The moment Gareth saw Talia entering the hall led by her mother’s hand, he had completely lost his mind.
The nobles who witnessed the Crown Prince shrieking as he strangled the young imperial princess had turned pale with horror and tried to stop him, but Gareth had refused to let go.
Only after two knights rushed forward together were they finally able to drag him away.
Barely freed from those vicious hands, Talia had crawled to her mother’s feet and curled herself tightly together.
Then Senevier had wrapped an arm around her protectively.
For a brief moment, relief had nearly brought tears to Talia’s eyes.
But then she saw the pleased expression that flickered across Senevier’s face.
That was probably when it began.
The moment Talia started provoking Gareth whenever an opportunity arose.
Her reputation, already buried in the dirt, had plummeted even further afterward, but she did not care.
The Crown Prince’s reputation would suffer as well.
And that would make Mother happy.
A hollow laugh suddenly escaped from deep inside her chest.
Even after everything had become this twisted, she was still desperately clawing for a scrap of that woman’s affection.
Even if she dragged the Crown Prince’s honor through the mud, Senevier would never love her.
Mother loved no one.
Not the Emperor.
Not even Asros, whom she cherished so carefully.
To Senevier, everyone was merely a tool. A means to an end.
Perhaps Talia continued all this precisely because she understood that too well.
If she failed to prove herself useful, then she truly would become nothing to that woman.......
“Your Imperial Highness.”
The sudden voice tore Talia from her thoughts.
Turning sharply, she saw a black figure standing motionless in one corner of the dark corridor.
The moment she recognized him as one of the monks who had been persistently staring at her during the banquet, Talia’s body stiffened.
‘Did he follow me?’
Carefully, she glanced around.
The long corridor leading toward the garden was utterly deserted.
Realizing he had silently followed her all the way here until they reached an isolated place made cold dread crawl over her skin.
“What business do you have?”
Trying not to reveal her fear, Talia deliberately forced authority into her voice.
Fortunately, her bluff seemed effective.
The monk visibly hesitated.
Talia shot him a sharp glare, hoping he would simply turn around and flee.
“I asked what business you have.”
“B-Because of what you said earlier.......”
The monk stammered awkwardly.
Talia frowned.
“What exactly did I say?”
“W-Well...... back in the banquet hall.......”
The man squirmed unpleasantly before darting strange glances at her, his freckled face flushing red.
Talia tightened her legs to stop herself from stepping backward.
The moment weakness was revealed, the other side would only become bolder.
She lifted her chin arrogantly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you have no important business with me, I shall be leaving.”
“Y-You said...... you wanted to live up to the Crown Prince’s expectations.......”
The man blurted out hurriedly.
Talia, who had just begun turning toward the garden, froze and slowly looked back at him.
Surely not.
Had he followed her because of ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) the words she had thrown out provocatively after Gareth warned her not to toy with the priests?
A chill suddenly ran down her spine like icy water.
