Chapter 66
“Did you burn incense again?”
Varkas said reproachfully, staring into her unfocused eyes.
For a moment, her cheeks grew hot.
She had only used medicine because she was in pain.
She had not done anything particularly wrong, so she did not know why she felt as though she had done something worthy of being scolded.
As she lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze, a dry sigh tickled her forehead.
“…Perhaps it is better this way.”
Varkas murmured bitterly, then put one knee on the floor and wrapped one hand around her back.
Thalia looked up in confusion at the sharp line of his jaw right before her eyes.
He slid his other arm beneath her legs and slowly rose.
Thalia reflexively clutched the hem of her skirt tightly. A chill ran down her back at the thought that her dress might roll up by mistake.
“I-I can walk on my own.”
“You should simply remain intoxicated by the medicine.”
Varkas said dryly after stepping down from the carriage.
“That will make today easier to endure.”
Thalia, reading the cynicism in his voice, hunched her shoulders. To him, it seemed that today was a day to be endured. As she lowered her head dejectedly, an unfamiliar voice sounded nearby.
“Commander, it seems His Majesty will be a little late.”
Thalia flinched and burrowed into his arms.
Varkas opened his coat to cover her body and gave an instruction in a blunt tone to the man who had spoken to him.
“Go to the chief priest and inform him of that.”
Then he strode toward the arch carved from marble.
Thalia unconsciously clutched his shirt tightly. Beyond the thin coat that smelled of mint, she could see the sky heavy with dark clouds.
A gloomy gray light, as if foreshadowing her dark future, ominously illuminated the faces of the saints carved into the stone walls and pillars.
As those faces drew close enough to seem almost accusatory, the fear pooled inside her stomach squirmed up her esophagus.
She spoke on impulse.
“The weather is too gloomy today.”
Blue eyes filled with silver fragments fell onto her forehead.
Avoiding that gaze, she stammered,
“No one gets married on a day like this.”
So it would be better to stop after all. Just as she was about to say that, his lips opened.
“Then we will be the first.”
At that soothing voice, Thalia swallowed the words that had risen to her throat.
He was a man who had grown sick and tired of her whims. It was only something he said to pacify her appropriately.
Although she tried to steady herself like that, her pride-less heart pounded as it pleased.
She lowered her head deeply to hide her heated face.
Before long, the enormous mouth of the Great Temple swallowed them.
Cold, heavy air pressed down on the body wrapped in a thin dress.
Thalia hunched her back and spied outside between the folds of Varkas’s coat. The sight of hundreds of people filling the cloister entered her eyes. At the number of guests, greater than expected, her mouth dried up.
There was no way they had gathered to celebrate this marriage.
They had probably been forced to attend because they were watching Senevier’s mood.
Or perhaps they had come to see what state the illegitimate Princess had ended up in.
She lowered her gaze and checked whether her legs were well hidden inside her clothes. Even after seeing several times that the trailing fabric covered all the way to her toes, her anxiety did not easily settle.
With hands damp with cold sweat, she grabbed the end of her skirt and pulled it downward, then looked around the pews to see if anyone was peeking at her legs. Then she saw hundreds of pairs of eyes opened wide.
Thinking that her appearance must be that terrible, her spine stiffened, and a dark-colored coat blocked her view.
“It seems we must wait until His Majesty arrives.”
His voice was strangely gentle.
As he passed the crossing and turned his steps toward the relatively quiet transept, he added,
“Until then, close your eyes for a while.”
Thalia looked up blankly at the tip of his chin.
Today, he was saying an unusual number of strange things. What bride in the world slept at her own wedding?
Just as she was about to say that, a voice that sounded somehow familiar came from behind.
“Sir Siarkan.”
Thalia cast her gaze beyond his collar. The knight who followed Varkas like a shadow was running toward them.
“Marquis Oristein is looking for you. He says he wishes to speak with you briefly before the ceremony.”
Marquis Oristein was the maternal grandfather of Gareth and Ayla. Why had such a person come to the ceremony hall?
When she looked up with a flustered expression, she saw his face stiffen slightly. Varkas, who had remained silent for a moment as if pondering something, set her down in the choir seats. Then he removed his coat, draped it over her shoulders, and said,
“Please wait here for a moment. I will be back shortly.”
Thalia reached out to grab him, then hurriedly lowered her hand again.
He had only been forced to take responsibility for her by the Emperor’s order. She had to get used to being pushed aside.
“Watch her well.”
Varkas said to the knight as if giving a request, then left the transept with graceful steps.
Thalia anxiously bit her lip as she watched his retreating back.
Marquis Oristein had surely come to stop this marriage. What would he say to persuade Varkas?
As she was thinking that blankly, she felt a stinging gaze on her cheek.
Thalia whipped her head around and flinched when she found a pair of dark brown eyes silently looking down at her.
The knight, who had been secretly looking at her with a strange gaze, flinched and turned his head. Cold sweat formed down her back.
Why had he looked at her with those eyes?
Could something be wrong not only with her legs, but also somewhere else in her appearance?
She looked down at her body wrapped in the airy dress. She suspected that the outline of her twisted legs might be visible through the fabric.
“Would you like me to bring you something to drink while you wait?”
The knight cleared his throat and asked in an awkward voice.
Thalia hid her anxiety and deliberately spoke in an arrogant tone.
“N-no… need.”
But her tongue, loosened by the medicine, did not move as she intended.
She moistened her dry lips and looked around.
In addition to the knight standing stubbornly beside her, priests and attendants who seemed to be waiting for the event were lined up along the transept wall.
Of course, they, and even the people gathered at the crossing, were glancing at her. Those sticky gazes stirred her nerves.
She bit her lip. She wanted to scream and ask what they were staring at so much.
Senevier’s voice, saying that ugly things were meaninglessly mocked and trampled, circled her ears.
She wanted to kick herself out of the seat and run out of the ceremony hall at once. But if she did that, she would surely fall unsightly in front of everyone. Then laughter would pour down over her like a torrential rain.
Illegitimate child.
Cripple.
Worst bride.
“Your Highness, your complexion does not look good. Shall I call a priest?”
The knight approached her with a worried face.
Thalia shook her head.
“No need.”
“At least receive a simple recovery magic…”
“Do you have a problem with your hearing? I said no need.”
When she snapped irritably, the troublesome man pressed his mouth shut. But he did not withdraw that strange gaze.
She was gradually beginning to find this man’s presence unbearably irritating. Every gaze clinging to her was horrifying.
She stared anxiously at the place where Varkas had left.
When on earth is he coming back?
What kind of conversation was taking so long?
Suddenly, Ayla’s voice, saying that she would regret it, circled inside her head. Perhaps that woman had incited her maternal grandfather to use some scheme.
Yes, that must be it. A marriage between Varkas and herself. It had been absurd from the start.
Could all of this have been a play meant to humiliate her from the beginning?
Varkas must have already left the ceremony hall. And she would become a miserable bride abandoned at the ceremony hall, on top of being an illegitimate child and a cripple.
“I want to go back.”
At the words she abruptly spat out, the knight sent her a bewildered gaze.
Thalia pulled off the coat Varkas had put on her, threw it to the floor, and staggered to her feet. Then, avoiding the tiresome gazes looking at her, she stepped toward the small side door at the end of the transept.
The knight, who had been watching her with a bewildered expression, hurriedly blocked her path.
“Where are you going? The ceremony will soon…”
“Move aside!”
She reached out to push the man. But there was no way a knight in armor would be pushed aside by her weak strength.
She sent him a gaze filled with hostility.
“Can’t you hear me telling you to move?”
As she stretched out her arm to push him again, strength left her legs, and her body tilted to one side. Thalia reflexively grabbed his arm.
She felt the knight’s body stiffen rigidly. She was equally horrified.
It was terrible to touch a man. His large body, which she could not do anything about with her own strength, sent chills through her.
The only one it was all right to touch was Varkas. But that man had left her behind in the ceremony hall. Suddenly, tears burst out.
“Let go of me!”
As she violently shook off the hand that seemed to be trying to support her shoulder, her body suddenly floated into the air.
Thalia turned around with startled eyes. She saw Varkas’s cool eyes.
He stared at her face as if he would take her apart, then turned his gaze toward his subordinate.
The knight flushed bright red and bowed his head. Varkas stared at him silently for a long while, then turned around with one arm wrapped around her waist.
“All the guests have arrived. The ceremony will begin now.”
A cold voice rang clearly above her head.
“It is too late to turn back.”
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