“I-I... I only came to visit you...”
Her ruined eyes settled upon the bouquet clutched against his chest.
Asros felt his ears grow hot.
For some reason, it felt as though he were doing something unforgivably cruel.
Talia lowered her eyelids like an exhausted person.
“...Leave it there and go.”
Awkwardly, Asros placed the bouquet upon a shelf beside the bed.
After that, he had no idea what to do.
He stared helplessly at his sister.
Then he left the room.
Waiting in the hallway, Berens frowned upon seeing his pale face.
He looked as though he suspected some sort of harm had come to the prince.
Without offering any explanation, Asros grabbed his hand.
“Let's go back to the main palace. Quickly.”
Then he ran down the corridor that was as silent as a tomb.
He did not know what he was fleeing from.
He only knew that he desperately wanted to leave this unnaturally cold and damp place as soon as possible.
Looking back once over his shoulder at the half-open bedroom door, Asros hurried down the stairs.
Moments later, like an animal escaping a trap, he fled the detached palace in one breath.
* * *
It felt as though an ant was crawling through her veins.
A stabbing pain crept up her shin, gnawing at her knee, her thigh, her pelvis, and finally her waist.
It was not as intense as before.
But it was just as unbearable.
Talia dug her nails into the uneven flesh of her knee and scratched relentlessly.
Immediately, the ant crawling beneath her skin seemed to resist, burrowing deeper into her bones.
Determined to rip the loathsome parasite out, Talia peeled away the tough layers of skin as though stripping bark from wood.
Blood streamed from the reopened wound.
Ignoring the burning pain, she dug her nails into the raw flesh beneath.
At that moment, the nanny entered the room.
Seeing the scene, she let out a shrill scream.
“Please stop doing that!”
The woman nearly threw the tray she was carrying onto a nearby table before rushing forward and grabbing Talia's hand.
Talia looked at her with lifeless eyes.
Then she simply placed her other hand atop the scar.
“Why are you doing this again?!”
The nanny seized that hand as well and sighed heavily.
“If those scars get any worse, what are you going to do? They're already terrible enough.”
Talia stared at her blankly.
This was the same nanny who had spent years praising her beauty until her mouth practically dried out.
The same woman who used to say she looked exactly like a young Senevier.
The same woman who had doted on her endlessly.
Apparently, even in the nanny's eyes, she had become ugly now.
Twisting her wrist free with force, Talia shoved the woman in the shoulder.
“Get out! I don't even want to look at you!”
The nanny glared back stubbornly before stomping toward the shelf.
Picking up the bowl of porridge and the medicine bottle from the tray, she thrust them forward.
“I'll leave after you've eaten this, so stop worrying about it.”
Talia reached out, intending to throw the bowl.
But even the dense nanny had learned after experiencing the same thing countless times.