Chapter 78
At his calm reply, Thalia lifted the corners of her eyes.
She had no way of knowing whether he was brushing it off perfunctorily because arguing was bothersome, or whether he was agreeing obediently because he truly did not care about his clothes.
Thalia looked over his expressionless face as if dissecting it, then soon wore a drained expression.
“Sometimes, when I’m with you, I feel like I’m going to burst inside.”
Even at her sudden provocation, he showed no particular reaction.
As the silence lengthened, she grew increasingly anxious.
Thalia pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned to the other side.
“Leave now.”
“I will leave after seeing you take the medicine.”
“I’m not taking it, so leave.”
“I will leave after confirming that you took the medicine and are feeling better.”
“I said I’m not taking it!”
When she turned back to him with an angry face, pale eyes shimmering with gold bound her gaze.
He pulled a chair to the side of the bed, sat down, and spoke slowly.
“If you keep being stubborn, I will make you take it by force.”
Thalia tensed her body.
Suddenly, the memories of the first night of their marriage tore through her head.
The confusing memory, where she still could not clearly distinguish what had been dream and what had been reality, vividly replayed in her mind.
Was Varkas thinking of that day too?
Sweat formed above her upper lip.
Unable to endure the strange tension lingering in the room, Thalia awkwardly changed the subject.
“Did you drink alcohol?”
“A little.”
He leaned against the back of the chair and said indifferently.
Watching him with wary eyes, Thalia snapped in a harsher tone than usual.
“If you’re drunk, you should wash up and sleep. Why come to someone else’s room and make a drunken scene?”
“I did not drink enough to become drunk. They held such a grand welcome ceremony that I merely played along a little.”
He answered halfheartedly and, as if finding them cumbersome, removed the ornaments wrapped around his arm and placed them on the shelf.
Thalia, who had been staring at him, carefully asked a question.
“Did they not say anything because I didn’t show my face?”
“Who would say anything to you?”
Suddenly, a crease formed between his brows.
“Your Highness holds the highest status in this castle. There is no one here whose mood you need to watch.”
“Who said I was watching anyone’s mood? I was just asking because I was curious.”
Thalia grumbled and glared at him.
It was a little absurd to hear that from a man who had never properly treated her as a Princess.
Just as she was about to snap that he should do better himself, a knock sounded at the door.
“Young Master, I have brought the medicine.”
“Come in.”
Soon, the door opened, and a petite maid entered the room.
Varkas took the medicine bottle from her hand and sent the maid back outside.
Thalia looked at the medicine bottle in his hand with a tense expression.
For some reason, her stomach tightened.
As she struggled to swallow through her stinging throat, he shook the medicine bottle in front of her eyes.
“Drink it.”
Thalia looked back and forth between the small blue glass bottle and his face.
If I don’t drink this, will he kiss me like that night?
At the thought that suddenly surfaced, her heart clenched tightly.
When she avoided his gaze without knowing what to do, he leaned his upper body forward and asked in a low voice.
“Are you not going to drink it?”
Her face burned as if on fire.
If she stubbornly insisted that she would not drink it, it felt as though he would see right through everything inside her.
She snatched the medicine bottle with trembling hands.
“I-I’ll drink it.”
As if to show him, she pulled out the cork stopper and poured the strong herbal liquid into her mouth.
The bitter liquid, harsh enough to make her tongue burn, scraped down her esophagus.
Thalia coughed dryly with tears in her eyes. It was the bitterest medicine she had ever tasted.
“What kind of medicine is this?”
“It is medicine made by a healer of House Siarkan.”
He poured a glass of apple wine from the shelf and handed it to her.
“From now on, the healer here will be solely responsible for you.”
Thalia, who had accepted the glass and hurriedly drank down the sweet liquid, glared at him as if dumbfounded.
“Who decided that? I already have a personal healer. A high-ranking practitioner trained by the Taren family has been taking care of me until now…”
“That healer did not seem to take any particular measures other than burning sleep herb and casting recovery magic. At that rate, your condition will never improve.”
Thalia sharpened her eyes.
The healer currently caring for her was a skilled person carefully selected and assigned by Senevier.
Did he think a shaman of the Khan people, who could use nothing more than ancient arts at best, dared compare to a mage of the Taren family? Or did he have some other scheme?
After glaring at him suspiciously, Thalia soon snapped coldly.
“No. I will be treated by the practitioner Mother assigned to me. How can I trust the people here? They all obviously hate me…”
His mouth stiffened.
“Why do you think that?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? House Siarkan supports the Crown Prince. I know very well that they have no reason to welcome me after I pushed Ayla aside and married you.”
Thalia sneered.
“Who knows? They might even try to poison me.”
“Thalia Roem Siarkan.”
His soft voice scraped chillingly against her eardrums.
Thalia hunched her shoulders.
More than the unfamiliar surname attached to the end of her name, the warning contained in his low voice froze her thoughts.
He added stiffly.
“I have decided that, as far as possible, I will accept all your tantrums. But do not cross the line.”
At the cold voice, her temper flared.
She threw the glass she was holding at him.
“Who asked you to accept my tantrums?”
Sticky apple wine soaked his chest.
A terrible silence settled.
Letting out a long breath, Varkas slowly rose from his seat.
Thalia startled and hid herself in the corner of the bed.
Varkas looked silently at her, then shook his head.
“Why do something that will frighten you?”
Thalia’s face flushed with shame.
He lightly shook off the liquid flowing down his chest and added calmly.
“No matter how much of a temper you throw, it will be useless regarding this matter. Starting tomorrow, the new healer will examine your condition.”
“I clearly said I don’t want that!”
He walked toward the bedroom door without even pretending to listen.
Thalia raised her voice at his back.
“You liar! You said I was the highest-ranking person in this castle! Then why are you doing whatever you want?”
“I may not know about anyone else, but you should listen to your husband.”
Varkas stopped by the door, looked back at her, and spoke as if admonishing a childish little girl.
“I listen well too, don’t I?”
Then, as if showing her, he removed the loose coat and draped it over one arm.
Thalia opened her mouth blankly.
He pulled the doorknob and calmly added,
“Sleep now. You will need to rest well for several days for the fatigue from the journey to fade.”
Only belatedly coming back to her senses, Thalia threw a pillow, but he had already left the room.
Looking down helplessly at the bundle of fabric rolling on the floor, Thalia soon slumped on the bed.
For some reason, she felt unfairly wronged, as if the one being tormented by this marriage had become not him, but herself.
***
The next morning, Thalia opened her eyes in a relatively refreshed state.
Perhaps sleeping almost the entire day had helped, because the pain in her legs was less than usual.
Rubbing her dry eyes as she rose from the bed, Thalia looked up at the vividly blue sky outside the window, then shook the bell beside the bed.
A short while later, a middle-aged woman with a strict face and a young maid who looked much younger than her entered the room side by side.
“Good morning, Your Highness. I apologize for greeting you so late.”
The older woman spoke first.
“My name is Areta, and I oversee the maids of this castle. This is Brisa, the personal maid who will serve Your Highness from now on.”
When the woman pulled the arm of the maid who seemed dazed, the girl named Brisa hurriedly bowed her head.
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