“Forgive me. I was thoughtless.”
The man immediately lowered his head. Without another word, Varkas entered his room.
A page quickly followed after him. Dismissing the boy with a light gesture, Varkas sat down on a chair and personally removed his armor and clothes, folding them neatly before sinking into the bath the servants had prepared in advance.
After riding all day, his body must have been thoroughly permeated with dust and the smell of horses.
After carefully washing himself from head to toe in the clear water, he put on a dark navy doublet and wool trousers. Pulling on boots that reached his shins, he stood before the mirror, where a perfectly composed silhouette met his eyes.
His body, honed by years of training, had long been disciplined into maintaining flawless posture at every moment.
He stared for a while at the man who looked as though he had been cast by the imperial family itself, then picked up his coat and left the room.
Just as he was about to head for the banquet hall, a woman descending the stairs caught his eye. Recognizing her as the healer sent from the Imperial Palace, Varkas immediately stopped her.
“Why are you coming down from the upper floor?”
The woman hastily bowed her head.
“Her Highness the Princess summoned me...”
He narrowed his brows. He had expected Talia not to listen to him, but seeing it with his own eyes still stirred a faint irritation.
In a stiff tone, he asked,
“How is Her Highness's condition?”
“She appeared better than usual, perhaps because she rested well throughout the day. Her fever has completely subsided. However, the pain in her leg seems unchanged...”
“So you've burned sleepgrass again.”
Perhaps sensing the reproach in his voice, the healer's face visibly stiffened.
As though making an excuse, the woman said,
“Her Highness suffers from severe chronic pain. Using sleepgrass is the best measure available to ease her suffering.”
He studied her face with sharp eyes.
Could he truly trust the healer attached to her by the Empress? Senevier was a woman who treated even her own daughter like a piece on a game board. There was no telling what schemes she might be weaving behind the scenes.
He carefully examined the woman's expression as though trying to discern her intentions, then gave a slight nod, indicating she could leave.
She lowered her head and descended the stairs at a measured pace, neither hurried nor slow.
Watching her retreating figure, Varkas soon headed toward Talia's room.
He knocked on the firmly closed door, and a somewhat drowsy voice answered from inside.
“Come in.”
The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, cool air brushed against his face.
He frowned.
Contrary to his expectations that the room would be heavy with stale smoke, the spacious bedroom contained only a faint floral fragrance and the scent of dried grass.
Suppressing the unease within him, he slowly surveyed the cluttered room.
Before long, he found a small figure sitting on the windowsill.
Varkas, who had been about to call her name, suddenly closed his mouth. He did not know what had stopped the words.
The woman, bathed entirely in the light of the setting sun, turned her head toward him.
The moment their eyes met, an inexplicable anxiety rose even stronger.
Pulling at the collar of his doublet, he strode over to her. After firmly shutting the wide-open window, he placed the back of his hand against her pale cheek.
She was ice cold.
“How long have you been sitting like this?”
“What?”
“How long have you been sitting in the cold wind?”
Her eyes narrowed.
With that sulky expression filling her small face, she looked two years younger than her actual age.
She slapped his hand away and answered bluntly,
“How should I know? Why would I care?”
“And what if your fever returns?”
“Then it'll return.”
He frowned.
Whenever he spoke with this woman, strange impulses arose within him. At times, he wanted to force her to obey him through sheer strength. At the same time, he felt an equally strange urge to coax and soothe her by any means possible.
As though trying to shake off those bizarre emotions, he stepped back.
Once he put some distance between them, she seemed relieved, and the tension left her rigid shoulders.
Wrapping both arms around her knees, Talia slowly looked him up and down before speaking sullenly.