Chapter 67
He crossed the transept while practically carrying her in his arms.
Thalia moved her lips, which stung from how much she had bitten them.
Are you really going to marry me like this? Truly?
She was about to ask that, but closed her mouth again.
He was right. They might have come too far to turn back now.
She lowered her gaze and looked around at the guests filling the nave.
Countless faces filled her eyes, where her tears had not yet dried. The Empress’s close associates, high-ranking officials, and nobles from various prestigious families…
Powerful figures whose positions even she could recognize were watching them in silence.
She felt as though she understood why Varkas had not been able to abandon her and leave the ceremony hall.
No matter how much he was the heir of a great lord, he could not break off a wedding hosted by the Emperor in front of so many nobles.
“The ceremony will begin shortly. Bride and groom, please come to the waiting seats.”
When they reached the crossing, the priest who had been waiting carefully spoke to them.
Varkas immediately followed the priest toward the waiting seats beside the altar.
Thalia followed him with unsteady steps, constantly moving her eyes.
Beyond her foggy, indistinct vision, faces passed by as if they were watching an exciting play. Those cold faces, dyed gray, seemed to be laughing at her all at once.
“Do your legs hurt?”
Noticing that her body had stiffened, Varkas asked while cupping her chin with one hand.
Thalia looked at him with a dazed face. Varkas lightly rubbed her wet eyes with his thumb. It was such a gentle touch that she wondered whether all of this might be an illusion created by the sleep herb.
Looking silently into her eyes, he whispered in a low voice.
“Please endure it just a little longer. As soon as the ceremony is over, I will let you rest.”
At his tone, as if coaxing a child, her throat tightened.
This man was only doing this because he was worried she might throw a fit in front of all these people.
He was only soothing her appropriately because he was afraid she would throw a tantrum.
As she repeated that to herself and desperately tried to calm her wildly beating heart, a voice she had never expected to hear here rang in her ears.
“I can hardly bear to watch. Someone might think this is a marriage you actually want.”
Thalia, who had flinched and stiffened her shoulders, slowly turned her head. Gareth, dressed in a red doublet, was crossing the pews with five or six imperial guards.
For an instant, it felt as though all the blood in her body had frozen.
“Why the deathly face for your elder brother who came to congratulate you?”
Gareth, who had stopped in front of her, twisted the corner of his mouth and sneered.
Thalia looked up at him with fear in her eyes.
Was he thrilled that his half-sister, who had always scraped at his insides, had turned blue with fear and could not even open her mouth?
A strange smile passed over Gareth’s rough face.
He bent toward her and whispered chillingly.
“You gained the position of Grand Duchess for the price of one leg, so you should smile brightly.”
Thalia glared at him with a stiff face.
Normally, she would have left nail marks on that slick face of his. But at that moment, she could not even open her mouth. Her already hazy mind seemed to have completely stopped working at his unexpected appearance.
As she merely trembled her eyelids like someone facing a nightmare, her head suddenly turned.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
Varkas, who had pulled her head in and made her bury her face against his chest, spoke as if warning him.
“If you have come as a guest, please show manners befitting one. Must you cause trouble on the wedding day of an old friend?”
A heavy silence pressed down on her head.
Thalia swallowed dryly with her forehead buried in his ceremonial clothes.
She could not understand why Varkas was trying to protect her from Gareth.
Originally, it should have been the opposite. Had his role not been to protect Gareth and Ayla from the wicked illegitimate child?
“There is no need to be so sharp. As long as you keep your promise, I will keep mine too.”
Gareth’s cold voice came from behind her.
She wanted to turn her head and check his expression, but because of the hand pressing down on her head, she could not move at all.
Putting strength into the arm wrapped around her waist, Varkas recited coldly.
“If you intend to watch the ceremony, please take your seat.”
A grinding sound of teeth was heard, then Gareth’s presence moved away. Only then did Varkas loosen the strength in his hand.
Thalia twisted her head and looked at Gareth’s back as he headed toward the seats for honored guests.
When he sat down, the elderly man sitting right beside him said something to him. It was not difficult to recognize him as Marquis Oristein.
Had the two of them discussed something beforehand?
Thalia narrowed her eyes, then suddenly realized that many of those filling the audience seats were conservative nobles who supported the Crown Prince, and her eyes widened.
How on earth were things unfolding?
As she looked around the chapel with a confused expression, a strong hand pulled her head once more.
“You do not need to think about anything.”
Those ice-like eyes firmly bound her gaze.
“After today passes, these are faces you will never see again. Do not give them your attention for no reason.”
He spoke forcefully, as if engraving the words into her mind, then walked toward the altar without the slightest hesitation.
Thalia moved her feet as if being pulled along by him and bit her cracked lips.
Varkas did not seem particularly surprised by the current situation. At his calm reaction, the tangled thoughts in her mind slowly began to organize themselves.
Perhaps Gareth wanted to show everyone that this marriage had not caused a rift between himself and House Siarkan.
And Varkas must have agreed to that.
From the beginning, this marriage was nothing more than a play created by the Emperor’s demand, Varkas’s sense of responsibility, and her own desire for revenge. He was still on Ayla and Gareth’s side.
“His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress are entering!”
A short while later, a loud voice came from the stairs leading to the seat of honor.
Thalia tore her gaze away from Varkas and looked up.
The Emperor and Empress walked gracefully toward the thrones on the second floor.
They looked like the true protagonists of this stage.
Thalia looked for a moment at the Emperor, who exuded solemn dignity, then turned her gaze to Senevier standing beside him.
As always, she was radiating a dazzling brilliance bright enough to blind.
Her dark golden hair that looked as if it had been made by melting pure gold, her delicate features in perfect harmony with it, her sensual body drawing perfect curves…
The beauty Thalia had once believed she, too, could one day possess stabbed at her retina like needles.
“Now, we shall begin the ceremony.”
Once the Emperor and Empress each sat upon their thrones, the high priest climbed onto the altar and declared in a solemn voice.
Thalia was led by Varkas’s hand and stepped before the priest.
Behind the solemn, wrinkled face, she could see the black sky heavy with rain. With dark clouds at his back, the priest began reciting scripture written in the ancient language.
All of it felt like a ridiculous comedy.
Senevier with her ambiguous smile, the Emperor looking somehow uncomfortable, the priest babbling formal words of blessing, and even the guests watching their false ritual while biting down on cynicism.
“Varkas Raedgo Siarkan, do you swear to take Thalia Roem Ghirta as your spouse and spend your life with her?”
After reading the long passage of scripture, the priest finally asked the final question.
Thalia moistened her dry lips while keeping her gaze fixed on the floor.
After a few seconds of silence, he opened his mouth.
“Yes.”
It was an answer so dry that it felt insincere.
The priest asked her the same question.
“Thalia Roem Ghirta, do you swear to take Varkas Raedgo Siarkan as your husband and spend your life with him?”
Thalia looked up at the priest’s face with hazy eyes.
She wanted to answer casually, as Varkas had, but only wheezing breaths flowed out, as if someone were choking her.
As her silence lengthened, the hand around her waist tightened.
Thalia turned her head and looked at him.
His blue eyes quietly urged her to answer. As if pushed by that firm gaze, which seemed to have no desire to drag out this moment, she barely forced out one word.
“…Yes.”
“Thus, in the name of God and His Majesty the Emperor, I declare that these two have formally become husband and wife.”
The priest, who proclaimed this in a dry tone, added the final words to conclude the ceremony.
“Now, the two of you shall prove your union with a kiss.”
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