48.
The beads of sweat gathering on my forehead trickled down, wetting the corners of my eyes.
It might be a drug meant to induce agony. Or perhaps a lethal poison.
Even as she failed to shake the suspicion, Talia parted her lips.
He tipped the vial, pouring the bitter liquid into her mouth. When she coughed and reflexively turned her head, he gripped her chin, forcing the vial back against her teeth.
Talia looked up at him, listlessly swallowing the liquid as it seeped into her throat.
She saw lights flickering over his pale eyes, which seemed obscured by a veil. As she searched for any remnant of emotion within those inorganic pupils, her limbs went limp.
She strained to keep her eyes open, struggling to cling to the fading thread of consciousness, but her mind grew hazy and her vision blurred.
Blinking slowly, Talia sank into a silence like death.
I did not know how much time had passed. It felt like seconds, yet also a lifetime.
Talia, who had been staring into the void, frowned at the rhythmic echo of horse hooves and the clatter of carriage wheels. As the fog in her vision cleared, the dim interior of the carriage came into view.
For a moment, she wondered if it had all been a dream. The monsters, Varkas abandoning her to save Aila, the wyvern’s near-lethal strike—could all of it have been a nightmare?
As if to refute that thought, a sharp, white-hot pain lanced from her knee to her waist.
Talia bit her lower lip, clutching her burning, throbbing knee.
She felt the texture of rough fabric beneath her thin chemise. As her fingertips fumbled over it, she realized her entire left leg was swathed in thick bandages, and her eyes widened in shock.
Lifting the hem of her skirt, she saw shreds of cloth matted with blood and discharge clinging to her thigh and side.
Talia traced the wounds with trembling hands before pulling her skirt back down and struggling to sit up.
Inside the spacious carriage, a cotton-stuffed mattress had been laid out, with cushions and summer quilts tangled in a mess.
Staring blankly, she gripped the handle on the wall and pulled herself up. Her legs, however, refused to obey.
Talia tried to straighten her legs, which felt as heavy as lead, but the agonizing pain shooting up her spine forced her to collapse with a thud. A scream tore from her throat as the agony pierced her entire body.
“Are you all right!”
The carriage jolted to a halt, and the door swung open.
Talia looked up at the man standing with his back to the light. The Imperial Guard, his hair even more disheveled than usual, looked down at her with wide, worried eyes.
He climbed inside and rummaged through a small box in the corner.
“The pain is severe, isn’t it? The healing mage prepared a painkiller. If you drink this…”
“Why? Did you not cast healing magic on me?”
The man paused, turning his head.
Talia pulled the sheet toward her, shooting him a look of wariness.
“Did my brother forbid them from treating me?”
“N-no, that is not it.”
The man waved his hands frantically.
“The healing mage set the bones as a stopgap measure and closed the surface wounds… but your Highness’s injuries were too severe to treat all at once. They suggested it would be best to leave the prognosis to the Imperial Palace’s specialized healers…”
Talia, who had been glaring at him with distrust, lowered her gaze to her leg.
Dimly, she recalled a massive rock crushing her knee and thigh. If they had merely allowed the wounds to close, she would have been crippled forever. Though she reluctantly acknowledged this, she did not stop her complaining.
“So, you expect me to stay in this state until we arrive at the Imperial Palace?”
“I know it is agonizing, but please bear with it a little longer. We plan to travel to Gillian via the fastest route possible.”
Talia looked at him with narrowed eyes before turning toward the window.
She could see the knights in a long formation across the vast plains where pale sunlight poured down. Talia, who had been unconsciously searching for ash-blonde hair among them, felt a shudder of self-loathing and pulled the curtains shut. Even moving her body brought on a crushing fatigue.
“It is a surprise that my brother accepted the proposal to return to the Imperial Palace.”
“A significant number of casualties occurred due to the wyvern attack. He could hardly oppose the argument that we must return as quickly as possible to hold their funerals.”
Surprised by the unexpected cynicism, she turned back, but the knight hurriedly adjusted his tone, realizing the sarcasm he had let slip.
“More than that, your complexion is poor. Please, drink this medicine.”
The man held out the bottle cap toward her. Talia stared at it blankly, waving a hand.
“I don’t need it. Take it away. I need to rest.”
“…If you cannot trust me, I will summon Lord Siorcan.”
As she lay back down, Talia looked at him with a hardened face.
For an instant, her heart dropped as if caught in a surprise attack. Masking it, she wore a cold, icy sneer.
“Do I look like I trust that man?”
“But your Highness, you…”
“I don’t trust anyone,” Talia snapped, cutting him off. She spat every word toward his annoyingly honest face.
“Especially not him.”
“…”
“So stop talking nonsense and get out.”
The man, who seemed as if he wanted to say more, let out a small sigh and stepped outside.
A moment later, the carriage began to move again.
Talia pulled the thin summer quilt to her shoulders. The pain, which had subsided, turned savage again, bringing a sensation as if her skin were sizzling. Tossing and turning while stifling her groans, she squeezed her eyes shut to escape the agony.
By twilight, a stout mage arrived to cast recovery magic.
Talia accepted his touch in silence. It was horrific to have someone else’s hands on her, but she no longer had the strength to resist.
“I will light incense to dull your senses. The pain will subside considerably.”
Perhaps having heard she refused the medicine, the mage placed a small censer at the entrance and lit it.
Stale air filled the carriage. Talia, who was about to snap at him for doing useless things, felt her taut nerves gradually loosen and dropped the tension in her shoulders.
The bone-deep pain slowly faded, and her consciousness blurred. It seemed he had burned herbs with sleep-inducing properties.
She welcomed the drowsiness, but her sleep did not last long. Before much time had passed, the pain began to rage again.
Waking with a moan, Talia lifted her eyelids with difficulty. She would have to call the mage and instruct him to burn more of the incense.
As she struggled to sit up, rubbing her throbbing head, her breath hitched.
Talia looked around into the deep darkness with dilated eyes.
She did not know what it was she had been startled by.