“Are you cold?”
Having already stepped outside, Varkas placed the hood over her head and asked.
Talia shook her head.
The garden was filled with the cool air of late autumn, but the sunlight was still warm.
Crushing rustling blades of grass beneath his feet, he followed the narrow path.
Several blackbirds pecking at flower seeds in the browned flowerbeds fluttered into the air.
Watching them absentmindedly, Talia turned her gaze to his face.
The pale sunlight turned his light blond hair silver.
She remembered the first time Varkas had stepped into her palace.
Back then, she could never have imagined this man caring for her like this.
Yet thinking back, Varkas had always been gentle with the weak.
He had carefully cradled dying birds.
He had taken in a foal that rejected human touch and had been wasting away to skin and bones.
And that wasn't all.
At a young age, he had taken it upon himself to protect Gareth and Aila after they lost their mother.
Even a woman who had been hostile toward him—he could not ignore her once she had fallen apart and ultimately accepted her as his wife.
Had he not suffered abuse at the hands of the priests, perhaps he would have become an exceedingly soft-hearted man.
As she drifted through those thoughts, Varkas suddenly stopped.
She soon understood why.
Autumn roses were blooming in one corner of a withering flowerbed.
Talia looked up at him in surprise.
“You like flowers too?”
“Neither like nor dislike them.”
Varkas answered dryly.
Then why—
She stopped herself before asking.
Only now did she realize he had stopped so she could see them.
On impulse, she blurted out,
“Pick that one for me.”
He immediately reached toward the rose.
She saw the sharp thorns sink into his fingers.
But Varkas did not even blink.
With an expressionless face, he snapped off the stem and scraped away the thorns with his fingertips.
When the stem was finally smooth, he held it out to her.
A strange emotion welled up inside her.
He had always endured Gareth's mistreatment in silence.
He had served the Emperor faithfully and had been a flawless fiancé to Aila.
And now, without a single complaint, he was fulfilling the role of her husband as well.
Was this man going to live his entire life according to the expectations and demands of others?
For the first time, she questioned his life.
“Will you... do anything I ask?”
“If it is something I can do.”
Wearing a puzzled expression, Varkas answered as though it were nothing.
Talia stared at him speechlessly before lowering her gaze to the pale-colored rose.
It meant nothing to him.
Just a worthless flower handed over because she had asked for it.
Yet she knew she would love this flower until the day she died.
At that moment, she saw clearly the true nature of the emotion inside her.
It was resignation.
Never in her life would this old love be returned to her.
The feverish madness that had consumed her would never torment this man.
But he would do everything he could as her husband.
Perhaps that was enough.
“If it doesn't please you, I'll pick another.”
Having noticed the shadow that had fallen across her face, Varkas made the offer.
Talia shook her head.
“This one is enough.”
Carefully embracing the large yellow rose, she watched him resume walking.
Pale clouds drifted across the bright sky.
As the sunlight gradually faded, he turned back toward the main castle.
At that moment, a booming voice came from behind.
“Your Grace!”
Turning around, Talia's expression darkened when she saw Daren hurrying across the garden.
One look at his grave face was enough to tell her that terrible news had arrived.
Just as she feared, the man who had rushed over spoke in a heavy voice.
“I believe we must return to Laedgo Castle immediately.”
Sadness filled his eyes.
After taking a moment to catch his breath, he continued heavily.
“His Grace the Grand Duke... no, Your Grace's father... a telegram has arrived saying that his condition is critical.”