“There is no need for Your Highness to be anxious. Whatever scheme the Empress may be plotting, no harm will ever come to you.”
She raised her head and looked up at his face.
The man who had moments ago turned away wearing the face of a stranger had once again become the loyal knight she knew. Aila felt her disordered emotions settling back into place almost instantly.
A man capable of shaking her so effortlessly, then soothing her with only a few careless words...
Before him, even the pride, dignity, and authority she possessed as an Imperial Princess became meaningless.
Clinging to the cool embrace that had never once grown warm despite the many years they had spent together, Aila searched those pale blue eyes desperately.
What was this man looking at?
Those hollow, bottomless eyes always seemed to wander someplace impossibly distant.
“I swore to the former Empress that I would protect both of you for as long as my strength allowed.”
He brushed several strands of hair stuck to Aila’s cheek behind her ear as he spoke.
“No matter what happens, I intend to keep that promise. So there is nothing for Your Highness to worry about.”
Aila studied his face for a long while before finally nodding.
Yes. As long as this man remained on their side, there was nothing to fear.
Nothing at all.
* * *
After trimming her broken nails, her hands felt unbearably empty.
How many more weeks would it take before they grew long enough to sink deep into flesh again?
Talia stared anxiously at the faint pink nails slowly beginning to emerge at her fingertips.
The satisfaction of injuring the Crown Prince had not lasted long. Her noble brother had undoubtedly summoned a priest immediately and healed his hand without leaving even a scar.
Meanwhile, she had lost the precious weapon she had carefully cultivated for weeks.
‘If possible, I would have preferred to use them on Aila...’
How many times had she imagined driving her nails into those spring-green eyes whenever that woman looked at Varkas?
Talia scratched at the wound left behind when her nail had broken.
The thin scab peeled away instantly, and droplets of blood welled up from the torn skin.
Her nerves grew sharper and sharper.
She stared blankly at the nail slowly staining red before slipping her finger into her mouth and lightly sucking away the blood.
Then she rose from the window.
For some reason, Varkas had been particularly difficult to spot today. There was no longer any reason to remain pressed against the glass beneath the scorching sunlight.
She trudged across the room and poured cold water into the basin resting atop the shelf before lightly washing the sweat from her face.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
The nanny must have brought more snacks again.
Drying her face with clean linen, Talia called out lazily,
“Come in.”
But the one who opened the door was not the short quarter-dwarf with plump limbs.
Instead, a small boy stepped inside, possessing dark /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ reddish-brown curls and bright green eyes that shone vividly.