He practically carried her in his arms as he crossed the side aisle.
Talia moved her stinging lips, raw from biting them so much.
Are you really planning to marry me like this? Truly?
She almost asked, but closed her mouth again.
He was right. Perhaps they had already gone too far to turn back.
Lowering her gaze, she looked over the guests filling the nave.
Countless faces reflected in eyes whose tears had not yet fully dried. The Empress's close aides, high-ranking officials, and nobles from numerous distinguished houses... influential figures whose status even she recognized were watching the two of them in silence.
Now she thought she understood why Varkas had not simply abandoned her and left the wedding hall.
No matter that he was the heir to a grand ducal house, he could hardly destroy a wedding hosted by the Emperor before the eyes of so many nobles.
“The ceremony will begin shortly. Bride and groom, please proceed to the waiting seats.”
When they reached the crossing, a waiting priest carefully approached and spoke.
Varkas immediately followed the priest toward the seats prepared beside the altar.
Staggering after him, Talia rolled her eyes restlessly.
Beyond her hazy vision, faces drifted by as though they were watching an entertaining play. Those cold, ash-colored expressions all seemed to be mocking her in unison.
“Does your leg hurt?”
Noticing her body stiffening, Varkas asked while cupping her chin with one hand.
Talia stared blankly at him.
Varkas gently rubbed the damp corners of her eyes with his thumb. His touch was so soft that she almost wondered if this entire thing was merely an illusion born from sleeping grass.
Looking quietly into her eyes, he whispered in a low voice.
“Endure just a little longer. Once the ceremony is over, I'll let you rest.”
The tone with which he spoke, as though soothing a child, made her throat tighten painfully.
He's only doing this because he's worried °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° I'll cause a scene in front of all these people.
He's only trying to calm me down in case I throw a tantrum.
She desperately tried to quiet her frenzied heart by repeating that to herself when a voice she never expected to hear here echoed beside her ear.
“This is unbearable to watch. Anyone seeing this would think you're marrying for love.”
Startled, Talia stiffened and slowly turned her head.
Dressed in a crimson doublet, Gareth was approaching through the pews with five or six Imperial Guards at his back.
For a moment, it felt as though all the blood in her body had frozen.
“Why the funeral face? Your brother came to congratulate you.”
Stopping before her, Gareth twisted his lips into a mocking smile.
Talia looked up at him with frightened eyes.
Perhaps seeing the half-sister who always scratched at his nerves pale and unable to utter a word delighted him.
A strange smile passed over Gareth's rough features.
Leaning down toward her, he whispered eerily.
“You've gained the position of Grand Duchess for the price of one leg. You should be smiling.”
Talia glared at him with a rigid expression.
Normally, she would have clawed that slick face of his with her nails. But at that moment, she could not even part her lips. Her already clouded mind seemed to have completely stopped functioning at his unexpected appearance.
She merely stood there, her eyelids trembling like someone facing a nightmare, when suddenly her head was turned sharply away.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Pulling her head against his chest and forcing her face into his breast, Varkas spoke in a warning tone.
“If you have come as a guest, then please behave with the dignity appropriate to one. Must you truly cause discord on the wedding day of an old friend?”
Heavy silence pressed down upon her head.
Burying her forehead in his ceremonial attire, Talia swallowed dryly.
She could not understand why Varkas was protecting her from Gareth.
It was supposed to be the opposite. Was it not his role to protect Gareth and Aila from the vicious bastard daughter?
“No need to bare your fangs. As long as you keep your promise, I'll keep mine as well.”
Gareth's cold voice came from behind them.
She wanted to turn and see his expression, but the hand pressing down on her head left her unable to move.
Putting strength into the arm wrapped around her waist, Varkas coldly recited,
“If you intend to observe the ceremony, then please take your seat.”
A grinding of teeth rang out before Gareth's presence finally retreated.
Only then did Varkas loosen his grip.
Twisting her head, Talia watched Gareth's back as he headed toward the section reserved for honored guests.
As soon as he sat down, an elderly man seated beside him said something. It wasn't difficult to recognize him as Marquis Oristein.
Had the two of them discussed something beforehand?
Narrowing her eyes, Talia suddenly realized that many of the people filling the seats were conservative nobles who supported the Crown Prince.
Her eyes widened.
Just what exactly was happening?
Looking around the chapel with a bewildered expression, she felt a strong hand pull her head back once more.
“You don't need to think about anything.”
Those ice-cold eyes firmly captured her gaze.
“Once today is over, you will never see these faces again. Don't waste your attention on them.”
He spoke with force, as though engraving the words directly into her mind, and without a trace of hesitation walked toward the altar.
Talia followed as though being dragged by him, biting her cracked lips.
Varkas did not seem particularly surprised by the current situation. His calm reaction gradually untangled the chaos in her mind.
Most likely, Gareth wanted to show everyone that this marriage had not caused a rift between himself and House Siorcan.
And Varkas had agreed to it.
From the beginning, this marriage had been nothing more than a play born from the Emperor's demands, Varkas's sense of duty, and her own desire for revenge.
He was still on Aila and Gareth's side.
“His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress are arriving!”
A booming voice rang out from the stairs leading to the elevated seats.
Breaking away from Varkas's gaze, Talia looked upward.
The Emperor and Empress gracefully emerged before the throne placed on the second floor.
They looked like the true protagonists of this stage.
Talia stared briefly at the Emperor, radiating solemn authority, before turning her eyes toward Senevier beside him.
As always, she shone with a brilliance dazzling enough to blind.
Deep golden hair that looked as though it had been forged from melted pure gold, exquisitely beautiful features existing in perfect harmony, and a sensual body tracing flawless curves...
The beauty she had once believed she could someday possess stabbed at her retinas like needles.
“From this moment, the ceremony shall begin.”
As the Emperor and Empress seated themselves upon their thrones, the High Priest climbed the altar and proclaimed in a solemn voice.
Led by Varkas's hand, Talia stepped forward before the priest.
Behind his wrinkled, dignified face stretched a black sky heavy with rain. With dark clouds at his back, the priest began reciting scriptures in the ancient tongue.
Everything felt like some ridiculous farce.
Senevier wearing an ambiguous smile. The Emperor looking somehow uncomfortable. The priest muttering formal words of blessing. And the guests watching their false ritual with cynical eyes.
“Varkas Laedgo Siorcan, do you swear to accept Talia Roem Gwirta as your wife and remain with her for the rest of your life?”
After finishing the lengthy passages of scripture, the priest finally posed the final question.
Keeping her eyes fixed on the floor, Talia moistened her dry lips.
After several seconds of silence, Varkas spoke.
“Yes.”
It was such a dry answer that it almost sounded indifferent.
The priest asked her the same question.
“Talia Roem Gwirta, do you swear to accept Varkas Laedgo Siorcan as your husband and remain with him for the rest of your life?”
Talia looked up at the priest with clouded eyes.
Like Varkas, she wanted to answer casually, but only ragged breaths escaped her lips, as though someone were choking her.
As her silence dragged on, the hand around her waist tightened.
Turning her head, Talia looked at him.
Blue eyes quietly urged her for an answer. As though he had no desire to prolong this moment, his resolute gaze pushed her forward, and she barely managed to utter a single word.
“...Yes.”
“Thus, under the names of God and His Majesty the Emperor, I declare that the two of you are now officially husband and wife.”
Proclaiming the words in a dry tone, the priest added the final sentence that would conclude the ceremony.
“Now, prove your union with a kiss.”
