37.
Talia couldn’t find a single word of excuse, only clicking her tongue against her teeth. She wanted to feign her usual brazen attitude, but both her body and mind had reached their limit, and her thoughts refused to align.
She pulled her hood tight to hide her disheveled, agitated face. As she tried to brush past her brother, who stood blocking the entrance, Gareth caught her wrist in a flash.
“I asked why you were rummaging through Varkas’s tent.”
“Let go of me!”
She shook her arm violently, but Gareth’s hand clung to her like glue.
He yanked her back, snarling like an enraged wolf.
“Tell me what kind of scheme you were trying to pull!”
Talia bit her lip at the grip that felt as though it would crush her bones. He was nothing but a brute, relying solely on his strength.
She kicked his shin without mercy. Perhaps because he wasn’t armored yet, Gareth jumped back, muttering curses.
Not missing the opening, Talia wrenched her arm free. She bolted from Varkas’s tent and ran frantically.
Behind her, she heard the sound of things being smashed, as if Gareth were in pursuit. Talia didn’t look back; she dashed madly between the tents.
Soon, her carriage came into view. She jumped inside, locked the door, and curled up in the corner.
Worry surged within her—would Gareth, flushed with anger, try to tear the carriage apart? But even after a long while, there was no sign of a commotion. It seemed he had halted his pursuit, wary of the surrounding eyes.
Talia exhaled a long breath and buried her face in her knees. Suddenly, she was overcome with a wave of disillusionment. She felt sickened by herself, disgusted by her own idiocy.
Why had she lost her reason, worrying about his well-being? And why had she allowed herself to show such vulnerability to Gareth?
*That man couldn’t have noticed anything, could he?*
Talia bit her lip, cautiously peeking out the window.
She saw the knights dismantling the tents; they didn’t seem aware of the ruckus she had caused.
Pressing her face against the glass, her eyes darting back and forth, she pulled the curtains shut once more.
As the sky brightened, the knights mounted their horses and began to align. Varkas was among them. Talia, who had been stealing glances at him through the curtains as he checked the vanguard, hastily hid herself when he approached her carriage.
Was he coming to question her after hearing something from Gareth?
As she frantically scrambled for excuses, Varkas stopped near the carriage, gave some orders to the knights, and moved back to the front.
Talia let her shoulders sag in relief. At that moment, the loud voice of an Imperial Guard rang out.
“We shall depart now.”
She didn’t reply. Perhaps not expecting an answer, the knight rode off without another word. Soon after, the carriage began to roll forward.
Talia leaned against the seat, looking up at the sky, which was turning white through the gap in the curtains. In the end, it seemed, another tedious day was about to begin as if nothing had happened.
The march, which began at dawn, was halted before the sun had even set.
Gareth, having reached the end of his patience, had unilaterally declared they would move no further today.
Strictly speaking, the travel schedule was at the discretion of the overall commander, Varkas. However, few dared to disobey the heir to the throne.
In the end, with Varkas’s tacit approval, they set up camp in an empty field just before the second holy site, Ulgram Hill.
It was an unsatisfactory situation for the soldiers who wanted to leave the plains as quickly as possible, but it was a relief for Talia. Stuck in the swaying carriage all day without proper food or sleep, her stamina had hit rock bottom.
She lay on the seat, blinking her dizzy eyes.
Just then, that detestable voice drifted from outside.
“Your Highness, I’ve brought some fruit.”
Talia furrowed her brows. She found the knight’s persistence, meddling yet again after being rebuffed yesterday, truly unfathomable.
Unless he had some ulterior motive, there was no reason for him to be so sycophantic.
She snapped back sharply.
“Get lost.”
“You said you couldn’t eat because you feared the food might be poisoned, didn’t you? Fresh, raw fruit should be safe, right?”
Too annoyed to respond, she clamped her mouth shut. Then, with brazen insolence, the knight ripped the carriage door open and shoved a tray of fruit right in front of her.
“I’m worried this might actually become a funeral procession at this rate. Please, stop being so stubborn and eat something.”
Staring at him in disbelief, she cast her gaze down to the silver tray. There were ripe red apples, plums, and green grapes.
Talia, who had been staring at them blankly, muttered in a hollow voice, no longer having the energy to be angry.
“How would I know if you haven’t coated the peels with poison?”
One would think he would have resigned himself by now, but the knight didn’t budge. Heaving a heavy sigh, he picked up an apple from the tray. He took a big bite out of it and held the bitten fruit toward her.
“Are you satisfied now?”
“Are you telling me to eat what you were just eating? It’s disgusting, get that away!”
The knight looked as if he wanted to strangle her. Whether he did or not, Talia turned her back on him. In truth, she was starving, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch food handled by someone else. She knew that if she forced it down, she would only throw it back up.
“Forget it. Just stop bothering me and get lost.”
“Are you only capable of telling people to get lost, Your Highness?”
The knight’s conduct, increasingly crossing the line, made her blood boil.
Talia stood up abruptly. She felt a wave of dizziness, but she braced her legs, refusing to show any weakness.
Once her vision cleared, she stepped out of the carriage, ignoring the knight who watched her warily.
The sky was already shifting from deep blue to pale orange. After watching it for a moment, Talia moved toward the edge of the campsite, avoiding the eyes that glanced her way.
She wanted to find a place where no one was and take a quiet rest. But if she wandered too far, the knights would surely follow.
After a moment of deliberation, Talia headed toward a thick forest a short distance from the supply wagons.
At this distance, they could see her position with the naked eye, so they wouldn’t loiter under the guise of “escorting” her.
Talia sat down, leaning against a large tree, and inhaled the cool evening air. She hadn’t been there long when she heard a faint sound of laughter nearby.
Talia snapped her eyes open. It seemed she wasn’t the only one seeking solitude; through the sparse spruce trees, she saw Aila walking leisurely.
Talia twisted her face.
Her mind and body were exhausted. She didn’t think she could bear the sight of that happy expression.
She stood up, intending to leave, when the figure of another person, hidden behind a tree, came into view.
It was the man who, just this morning, had made her pray that he would simply stay alive.
Talia stared at him with blank eyes. Varkas, holding the reins of Torque in one hand while quietly following Aila, looked calmer than she had ever seen him.
She had grown tired of seeing him with a cold expression or furrowed brows, so this serene face was entirely unfamiliar.
*Did he always wear such an expression in front of Aila?*
As she watched in a daze, Aila pulled on Varkas’s arm, stood on her tiptoes, and tilted her head up. Talia, realizing what she was asking for, held her breath.
She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to burn into her memory a scene she would be unable to erase, a sight she would chew over and over again.
Even while screaming internally, Talia couldn’t tear her eyes away. Perhaps she had wanted to see him coldly reject her. But Varkas responded to Aila’s wish like a loyal hound.
Seeing him bow his head toward her, Talia turned and began to run. But before long, she was grabbed by someone.
She looked up, startled. Gareth, his cheeks flushed as if he had been drinking, gripped her arm, looking down at her intently.
Talia hastily bowed her head to hide her face, but it was too late; he had caught the moisture welling up in her eyes.
“You, by any chance…”
Gareth muttered with a scoff.
Talia twisted her arm to break free, but the Crown Prince didn’t budge.
Gareth, looking down at her as if her emotional turmoil were some rare spectacle, finally burst into laughter.
“So that’s how it was?”