Even after repeatedly confirming that the layers of fabric covered her feet, her anxiety refused to subside.
With sweaty hands, she gripped the hem of her skirt and tugged it lower, glancing toward the audience seats in case anyone was looking at her leg.
Instead, she saw hundreds of eyes opened wide.
Thinking that her appearance must truly be that hideous, her spine stiffened.
Suddenly, the dark coat blocked her vision.
“It seems we will have to wait until His Majesty arrives.”
His voice was strangely gentle.
Passing through the crossing, he headed toward a quieter side wing.
“Until then, perhaps you should get some sleep.”
Talia stared blankly at the tip of his chin.
Today, he was saying an unusual number of strange things.
What bride in the world slept during her own wedding?
Just as she was about to say so, a familiar voice sounded behind them.
“Lord Siorcan.”
Talia peeked over his collar.
The knight who always followed Varkas like a shadow was hurrying toward them.
“Marquis Oristein is looking for you. He says he would like to speak with you before the ceremony.”
Marquis Oristein was Gareth and Aila's maternal grandfather.
Why had someone like him come to the cathedral?
Looking up in confusion, she saw Varkas's face stiffen ever so slightly.
After a brief silence, as though weighing something, he set her down upon the choir seats.
Removing his coat, he draped it over her shoulders.
“Wait here for a moment. I'll return shortly.”
Talia reached out to stop him, only to hurriedly lower her hand.
He had only accepted her because he was forced to by the Emperor.
She had to become accustomed to being pushed aside.
“Watch over her carefully.”
After giving the instruction to his knight, Varkas departed the side wing with graceful steps.
Watching his retreating back, Talia bit her lips anxiously.
Marquis Oristein had undoubtedly come to stop the marriage.
How would he try to persuade Varkas?
She was blankly lost in thought when she felt a burning stare upon her cheek.
Turning abruptly, she froze.
A pair of dark brown eyes were staring directly at her.
The knight, who had been secretly observing her with an odd expression, flinched and turned his head away.
Cold sweat formed down her back.
Why had he looked at her like that?
Had something happened not only to her leg, but to the rest of her appearance as well?
She looked down at the body wrapped in flowing layers of dress.
Perhaps the outline of her twisted leg was visible beneath the fabric.
“Would you like something to drink while you wait?”
The knight cleared his throat awkwardly.
Suppressing her anxiety, Talia deliberately adopted an arrogant tone.
“N-No need.”
But her tongue, loosened by the medicine, refused to obey her.
Moistening her dry lips, she looked around.
Besides the knight standing beside her, priests and attendants waiting for the ceremony lined the walls of the side wing.
Not only them, but even those gathered at the crossing cast furtive glances her way.
Those sticky gazes grated on her nerves.
Biting her lips, she wanted to scream and ask what they were staring at.