Chapter 10 :

Chapter 10

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After the commotion, Thalia began staying only inside the detached palace.

But because of the maids who whispered endlessly, as though they had never once behaved like mutes, she learned that the boy who had assaulted her was the Crown Prince of the Empire and her half-brother.

And she also learned that the black-haired girl she had seen in the birch forest that day was her half-sister...

She also learned that it had not even been six months since the two of them had lost their mother.

That meant Thalia and Senevier had entered the imperial family only three weeks after the former empress Bernadette had died.

Senevier had even erased every trace of the former empress as soon as she entered the imperial palace.

Perhaps that small garden behind the main palace was a trace of Bernadette that her mother had not yet managed to remove.

She looked out the window.

Summer rain was pouring down over the garden her mother had carefully decorated.

The plants in the garden, soaked with moisture and giving off the thick scent of grass, felt like horrible monsters.

She drew the curtains over the window.

Then she curled up on the bed and recalled the Crown Prince’s hate-filled gaze and the face of her half-sister, which had turned white with fear.

And the blue-eyed boy who had embraced her as though protecting her, while glaring at Thalia...

“Varkas Raedgo Siarkan...”

She looked up at the ceiling and blankly murmured his name.

She had finally learned the boy’s name, but she was not happy in the slightest.

Because she had realized that he would never smile at her.

The former empress Bernadette had been from the Marquisate of Oristein, one of the prestigious families of Osiria, but her mother had been a noblewoman from House Siarkan.

In other words, the dead Empress and Varkas were distant relatives.

She had even carefully looked after Varkas, who had entered the imperial palace at a young age and begun receiving harsh education.

Perhaps he thought of Senevier as an enemy.

‘And me too...’

When she recalled the cold eyes that had looked at her, for the first time, she resented being Senevier’s daughter.

Even her appearance, which resembled the woman she had always been proud of, felt shameful.

Thalia did not want to feel such emotions.

I’m the one who was beaten so terribly, so why should I feel guilty?

The one who did something wrong was the Crown Prince.

I really knew nothing at all.

What did I do wrong?

I am not bad.

I did not do anything bad.

Thalia repeated that to herself without pause.

But whenever she was surrounded by the servants’ cold gazes, such thoughts disappeared without a trace.

Thalia fully understood the meaning of their cruel hands when they touched her.

Bringing bathwater as cold as ice and scrubbing her roughly until her skin turned red, cleverly pricking her flesh with tweezers every time they changed her clothes, brushing her hair so harshly that wounds formed on her scalp, bringing cold food to her at every meal...

All of it was their own form of punishment against her.

She knew she was hated.

But it had not been very different when she lived with the Taren family, so she had not cared much.

Whenever she was intimidated, Senevier would hold her tightly in both arms and whisper that she was the result of true love, and that she did not need to care what anyone said.

Thalia believed those words and always tried to act confidently.

But now her mother no longer stayed by her side, and all around her were whispers about how benevolent and kind the former empress had been, and how she had lived and died in great pain.

Thalia became visibly dispirited.

Her head, which she had always held high and straight, shrank in like a turtle’s, and her gaze naturally turned toward the floor.

And the servants, who keenly sensed that change, became more and more cruel.

Since neither the Emperor nor even Senevier paid her any particular attention, they seemed to have lost even the fear of being punished.

To begin with, to them, Thalia was not an imperial princess.

She was merely the being who had hurt the heart of Bernadette, the Empress they had served loyally for so long, and the proof of a sordid affair.

Whenever Thalia passed through the corridors, she could hear them whispering about her that way.

It felt as though her mind might break.

Every time she heard words blaming her, she felt wronged and furious.

But when they said that so many people had suffered because she was born, this much sorrow also felt like something she ought to endure.

However, their torment eventually reached a level she could no longer bear.

It was around the time two seasons had passed since she entered the imperial palace.

Thalia came down to the dining room to have breakfast and was seized by a strange sense of unease.

That day, especially many servants had come out to attend her.

When she saw the maids lined up along the wall, she had an ominous feeling that something was about to happen.

But contrary to her expectations, the servants were courteous, and there was an unusually large amount of food on the table.

Thalia looked down at the silver plate as though enchanted.

Instead of hard, stale bread, a kitchen maid brought freshly baked golden-brown bread and butter, and soon, roast quail and hot stew steaming heavily were placed before her.

For the past several months, she had eaten nothing but terribly poor food day and night.

When she saw hot stew filled with ingredients instead of watery soup as cold as rainwater, shamefully, she felt as though she might cry.

Thalia looked around at the servants.

Dozens of pairs of eyes were watching her reaction.

Could it be that they no longer want to punish me?

Maybe they have decided to forgive my existence and show me kindness now.

Thalia lifted her spoon.

Then she scooped up the steaming hot broth and put it into her mouth.

The flavors of butter, milk, and various vegetables, along with a gentle sweetness, spread throughout her mouth.

At the taste of warm food after so long, an intense hunger surged up.

Forgetting all dignity, she hurriedly spooned up the stew.

How long had she been moving her spoon like that?

Suddenly, she tasted something very strange.

It was far too foul to be merely the gamey smell of meat that the spices had failed to cover.

She furrowed her brow and stared intently at the stew.

Just then, she heard giggling laughter from behind her.

Thalia whipped her head around.

All the maids had expressionless faces and lowered eyes.

But Thalia could clearly see the corners of their mouths twitching.

In that instant, cold sweat formed along her spine.

After hesitating for a long while, Thalia stirred through the bowl with her spoon.

When she pushed aside the large pieces of food, she saw something like a heavy lump of meat sunk at the very bottom of the deep bowl.

No.

It was not a lump of meat.

Thalia scooped up the dark object with her spoon and froze in shock.

A gray rat, swollen in the thick broth, was hanging limply with its mouth open.

She could not even scream.

She tumbled down from the chair and vomited the stew onto the floor.

Even though she threw up more than she had eaten, the nausea did not stop.

The foul smell at the tip of her nose grew stronger and stronger.

It felt as though the taste of the dead rat had stuck to the tip of her tongue and would never disappear.

She shoved her fingers down her throat and scraped her tongue, painfully forcing up vomit that would no longer come.

How long had she been lying on the floor, retching like that?

Through her vision blurred with tears, she saw a pair of feet moving around the table.

Thalia blankly lifted her head.

The maid in charge of kitchen work was calmly clearing the plates as though nothing had happened.

The other servants, too, busily moved around the table, clearing dishes and wiping the surface.

As though they could not even see her lying in her own vomit...