Chapter 87
She looked at the piled-up clothes, then lowered her gaze to her legs wrapped in the hem of her skirt.
As soon as she had opened her eyes early in the morning, she had received bathing service from the nanny, then called the healer and had fresh bandages wrapped around her legs.
There would be no chance of showing those people her scars.
Thalia chewed on her lips, then soon nodded.
“Do as you like.”
Once her permission was given, the maids set up a screen in the middle of the room.
Thalia stood behind it like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse.
A young maid approached her, removed the thin gown, and undid the buttons of her summer dress one by one.
Soon, the loose dress that had wrapped around her body slipped down.
Thalia noticed that the maid had suddenly stopped breathing and reflexively checked her underskirt.
Through the thin fabric, the outline of her twisted legs was faintly visible.
Feeling her ears grow hot with humiliation, she shouted at the maid.
“Don’t just stand there dazed. Hurry up and finish!”
The maid, who had frozen, hurriedly brought over the clothes.
Unable to keep watching her clumsy movements, the head maid pushed the maid back and personally dressed Thalia in an ivory silk dress.
The thin hem, delicately gathered with fine pleats, flowed down her body like mist.
The head maid layered a gray-blue translucent outer fabric over it, then wrapped a waist ornament embroidered with splendid patterns around her.
The double-layered silk belt had jade, topaz, and small animal-shaped ornaments hanging from it.
After tightening it firmly to reveal her waistline, the maid let colorful cords decorated with metal bells and tassels hang over her pelvis.
The adornment did not end there.
Various jewels threaded on thin gold cords were wrapped around her neck and wrists in layers, and large earrings engraved with the pattern of golden birds hung from her earlobes.
She felt as if she had become a jewelry display stand.
Was this truly the traditional attire of the East?
As she frowned suspiciously, the maid who was dressing her in a deep blue silk coat with wide sleeves let out an exclamation like a sigh.
“You look just like Tiramere from legend.”
“Tiramere?”
When Thalia narrowed her brows at the unfamiliar word, the maid turned pale and covered her mouth.
At the suspicious reaction, her mood sank.
Could she have treated me like an idiot?
Perhaps they were mocking her, taking advantage of the fact that she knew nothing.
She pressed again.
“What is that? Why did you stop talking?”
“Tiramere is…”
“Tiramere is the earth spirit who governs the seasons.”
The head maid, who had pulled the front of the silk coat diagonally and fixed the flowing fabric with a brooch, spoke.
“The old easterners believed themselves to be descendants of Tiramere. Among the spirits of this land, she is considered the most beautiful and noble being.”
Thalia looked at the head maid’s calm face with suspicious eyes.
“Then you should have just said so. Why did she turn so pale?”
“Brisa seems to have been worried that Your Highness might misunderstand and think we believe that legend to be true.”
The head maid, who had arranged the front of the coat to fall naturally, straightened her body and answered.
“The story of Tiramere is merely an old oral legend. We hope Your Highness will not doubt our faith.”
Thalia stared intently at the head maid’s stiff face.
A faint tension lingered over that long, horse-like face.
She had no way of knowing whether it was because she was deceiving her, or because she feared being branded a heretic.
She turned her head and faced the mirror she had been avoiding all along.
On the smooth surface surrounded by deep shadows, a face that looked frighteningly similar to her mother was reflected.
However, over that delicate face, instead of the explosive vitality Senevier possessed, a gloomy gray shadow hung.
Eyes starved as if hungry for something, a gaunt face, a miserable body far removed from Senevier’s sensual body that had formed perfect balance…
Suddenly, Gareth’s mocking voice rang in her ears.
A woman’s face attached to the body of a monster…
The face that looked as though it had clumsily imitated her mother twisted miserably.
It was painful to look at herself, broken before she had ever been completed.
She roughly turned her body.
“If it’s done, move aside! How long are you going to keep touching me?”
When she rather roughly struck away the hand styling her hair, the maid standing behind her flinched and stepped back.
The head maid let out a small sigh.
“We will place the crown on you. Please endure just a little longer.”
The waiting maid immediately brought a gold crown cap.
The head maid placed it on Thalia’s head, rolled up her long hair in a round shape, then fixed it with an ornament set with jade.
At last, when all the adornment was complete, the maids took one step back and bowed respectfully.
“We will now escort you to His Grace the Grand Duke’s chambers.”
The head maid said as she stepped toward the door.
Thalia looked at her for a moment with anxiety in her eyes, then followed after her.
Dozens of soldiers were waiting in the corridor.
As she stepped carefully between them, the sound of her limping echoed.
She tried to walk as naturally as possible, but her stiff legs betrayed her will as always.
Trying not to reveal her humiliation on the outside, she held her head stiffly high.
How long had she moved her feet like that? The head maid stopped walking.
“This is the room.”
She pointed to a large door located across from the stairs.
It seemed the Grand Duke’s residence was on the same floor.
Relieved by the fact that she did not have to go up or down stairs, Thalia approached the large mahogany door.
“Her Highness the Princess has been brought.”
When the head maid announced in a polite tone, a solemn voice came from inside the room.
“Enter.”
The head maid obeyed the order immediately.
When the maids opened the doors from both sides at the same time, a wide space filled with retainers was revealed.
Thalia stiffened her spine as she faced dozens of pairs of eyes pouring down on her.
The well-dressed men were looking at her with faces as if they had been shocked by something.
Suddenly, a chill ran down her back.
Could something be wrong with her appearance?
She examined her attire.
Perhaps they had dressed her incorrectly to make her into a laughingstock.
They might have deceived her by calling it traditional eastern clothing and dressed her like a clown.
She glared at the head maid as if she would tear apart her face.
Then suddenly, she lowered her eyes again, wondering if her legs were visible through the hem.
Nothing could be seen except the abundantly pleated hem of the dress.
But from the front, perhaps the shape of her distorted legs was visible.
Cold sweat flowed down her back.
Thalia moved her eyes with an expression as if she wanted to run away at once.
At that moment, heavy footsteps sounded.
Startled, Thalia lifted her head and widened her eyes when she saw Varkas, who had approached her before she knew it.
He, too, was wearing clothing similar to hers.
A black silk tunic with a subtle sheen, a belt embroidered with complex gold patterns, and a wide coat layered diagonally flowed elegantly along the lines of his firm body.
Thalia was looking him over as if bewitched when she felt warm fingers touch the tip of her chin and lifted her gaze.
Large earrings set with blue gemstones and a necklace hung with topaz glittered in the sunlight.
For a moment, her heart dropped.
It was the first time she had seen him wearing so many jewels.
Was he not a man who always dressed more ascetically than any priest?
Luxuriously adorned, Varkas looked not like a knight of the Ro Empire, but like the ruler of an ancient barbarian tribe.
“Do your legs hurt?”
Varkas, who had been studying her intently, asked in a heavily subdued tone.
Barely coming to her senses, Thalia struck his hand away and took one step back.
It felt as though even he might hear the sound of her violently pounding heart.
“N-nothing is wrong.”
She tried to pretend to be calm, but both her cheeks burned as if lit on fire.
His blue eyes settled over that flushed face.
Varkas frowned and touched her forehead.
“Are you feverish again…”
“I said I’m fine!”
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