He too had studied for years at the academy in the capital, but he could never grow accustomed to the values of the central nobles.
The East valued blood ties more deeply.
Raina was an irritating younger sister, but if she had been cast aside by her fiancé, they would have been willing to wage war to avenge that humiliation.
Suddenly, he found himself feeling sorry for the First Imperial Princess.
She had been betrayed not only by her fiancé, but also by the younger brother she trusted.
Perhaps Raina was right.
Perhaps women with the blood of House Taren truly possessed some dangerous charm that made men abandon even their loyalty.
He remembered those deep blue eyes hidden beneath the hood.
Filled with faint warmth, they had shimmered like living jewels.
No.
Even the finest lapis lazuli could never compare.
Trying to remove her hood had been entirely instinctive.
The moment their eyes met, his hand had moved before he realized it.
His voice slightly lowered, he asked,
“What kind of person does the Second Imperial Princess seem to be?”
Deep wrinkles formed on Tyron's brow.
After a moment's pause, he answered.
“I only spoke with her once, so I cannot say for certain. But one thing is obvious. The rumors are right. She is no ordinary person.”
“Worse than Raina?”
“Surely not worse than the young lady.”
He said it jokingly.
But shallow wrinkles lingered around his eyes, as though even he wasn't entirely sure.
Lucas felt his curiosity swell even more.
Just what sort of person could make even this slippery, easygoing man wear such an expression?
“What about her appearance? Is she really that beautiful?”
At the sudden question, Tyron, who had been reaching for the bottle again, paused and looked at him searchingly.
For some reason, Lucas felt guilty.
Scratching the ground with the heel of his boot, he looked away.
After studying him silently, Tyron emptied the remaining mouthful of wine and spoke indifferently.
“Beautiful enough to become a problem.”
Then, wearing a thoughtful expression, he added meaningfully,
“Which is precisely why Lord Siorcan keeps her hidden so carefully.”
* * *
When she opened her eyes, darkness had settled over everything.
Talia gasped harshly and clutched her throat.
It felt as though someone were strangling her.
Scratching at her skin in an attempt to tear away those invisible fingers, she crawled to the head of the bed and tugged the bell cord.
A moment later, she heard the door open.
Turning her head, Talia froze.
The instant a familiar silhouette entered her vision, the suffocating pressure vanished.
It was as though her body recognized him before her mind could.
“Are your legs cramping again?”
Lighting the lamp by her bedside, Varkas bent over the bed and asked.
Taking a long breath, Talia shook her head.
“I was just thirsty. I called for a maid.”
His eyes narrowed.
Apparently, he didn't believe her.
Placing one hand against her forehead to check her temperature, Varkas turned toward the maids who had just arrived and gave a curt order.
“Fetch medicine from the healing mage.”
Then he personally poured her a glass of water and handed it over.
His blatant disregard for her words irritated her for a moment, but she was grateful that he had come immediately, so she accepted the glass without complaint.
One sip of cold water made her hazy mind clear considerably.
Setting the glass down, she looked him over with eyes no longer clouded by fever.
Varkas wore a fitted tunic beneath the loose outer garment favored by the men of the East.
The unfamiliar attire made something churn inside her.
Stealing glances at the outline of his chest visible between the folds of his clothing, she lowered her eyes with an uncomfortable expression.
“What kind of outfit is that? It's strange.”
“...It's traditional attire of the East.”
“Don't wear that anymore. It doesn't suit you.”
In truth, it suited him infuriatingly well.
The man who always dressed with blade-like perfection now wore loose clothes that seemed as though they might come undone at any moment.
There was something vaguely sensual about it.
And for some reason, that irritated her.
She emphasized her words.
“You look terribly lacking in dignity. If you dress like that, your retainers will underestimate you. So don't wear it.”
Varkas quietly looked down at her face.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Understood.”