38.
“Let go of me!”
Talia kicked his shin. But her brother was not one to fall for the same trick twice. Gareth swiftly shifted his leg to evade her strike, grabbed her arm with a rough twist, and let out a vulgar cackle directly into her face.
“I had my suspicions, but to think the imperial nuisance had designs on the young lord of the East!”
Talia looked up at him, her eyes wide with terror.
It felt as though the blood in her body had frozen. She forced herself to compose her distorted expression.
“Don’t talk nonsense. Who would…”
“That’s exactly what it is. Pure nonsense. A mere illegitimate child, forgetting her place, daring to covet the successor of Grand Duke Siorcan!”
Delighted to have seized upon a weakness in the younger sister he had always considered an eyesore, Gareth laughed until his whole body shook.
He gripped her chin, exhaling a putrid, bitter breath reeking of alcohol directly into her face.
“The blood never lies, after all. Besides, where else would a base-born wretch inherit the nature of a harlot who eyes another woman’s man?”
Talia glared at him with piercing intensity. Seeing her venomous look, Gareth leered before shoving her aside. He added with a greasy grin,
“Get it out of your head. Varkas is not someone a thing like you could ever hope to reach…”
“You’ve forgotten one thing, brother. You see, not only does the blood of a base-born harlot flow through me, but also the blood of a man who played around with a young girl while his wife was heavy with child.”
In an instant, the smile on the Crown Prince’s face vanished.
Staring straight into his eerily twisted features, Talia continued.
“Come to think of it, doesn’t the blood of that shameless man flow through your veins as well?”
She could see tension ripple through his large, muscular frame.
She knew she should stop, but she could not end this having surrendered only her own weakness. Just as he had done, Talia wore a sardonic smile.
“Since you’ve dug up my secret, shall I dig up one of yours?”
A faint flicker of unease clouded Gareth’s eyes. Looking at him with a mocking gaze, Talia whispered into his ear.
“There is a secret rumor among the maids. That His Highness the Crown Prince, in all his exalted glory, seeks out only women with deep wheat-colored hair and eyes as blue as the sea—every single night.”
The color drained from Gareth’s bronzed face.
Talia wore a malicious smile as she observed his ash-pale features.
“I have a feeling I know who that woman in your dreams was—the one you met the first night you became a man and defiled your bed… Shall I take a guess?”
His body convulsed as if struck by lightning. She sensed that if she didn’t stop now, she might truly be killed. But, as always, she listened to the devil’s voice urging her on.
“Don’t tremble so. I’m a kind sister, so I’ll keep your secret until the end. The fact that His Highness the Crown Prince seems to have inherited the Emperor’s bloodline very, very strongly.”
No sooner had she finished than a heavy impact sent her head snapping to the side.
Talia fell to the ground, clutching her face, which burned as if it had been set on fire.
The world blurred. As she clutched her dizzy head and tried to rise, Gareth loomed over her and clamped his hands around her throat. Her eyes felt as though they would pop from their sockets.
Talia struggled desperately. She clawed at his arms with sharp fingernails and kicked his rock-hard body, but her frail constitution was powerless against him.
She thrashed like a fish out of water before her limbs finally went limp. Just then, the vice-like grip on her throat suddenly gave way.
Talia twisted, gasping for air. Through eyes blurred with tears, she saw Varkas holding Gareth’s arm.
Varkas, his face as unreadable as a mask, looked down at her before shifting his gaze to Gareth.
Gareth was still glaring at his half-sister with murderous intent, his face twisted in a look of injured innocence so absurd that a wheezing chuckle escaped her lips.
Gareth’s face flushed a deep, mottled red as he raised his fist.
“You wretched bitch…!”
But his hand never reached her.
Varkas, who had gripped Gareth’s thick forearm as easily as if it were a child’s wrist, glared at her. He seemed weary of her, someone who wouldn’t stop provoking her own brother even while staring death in the face.
“Escort Her Imperial Highness to her quarters.”
He gave the order to the Imperial Guard, who had come running, his face pale.
The guard stepped in to support her.
Talia roughly shook off the hand and staggered to her feet. She wiped the dirt from her skirt with a calm face, as if nothing had happened. Gareth, watching her with burning eyes, roared at Varkas.
“Let go of me right now!”
“Will you stop this!”
Aila, who had been watching from a short distance, raised her voice. Her face was deathly pale, as if this were the first time she had witnessed such violence from her brother up close.
She hurried to his side, her voice hard.
“What on earth are you doing? You are the Crown Prince of this Empire! How could you cause such a scene…!”
“Don’t you interfere!”
Gareth growled like a beast.
Aila flinched and took a step back, clearly shocked that the brother who had always been a docile puppy toward her had finally bared his teeth. Talia spoke to her half-sister with a sneer.
“That’s right. Sister, don’t interfere in our affairs.”
Aila glared at her with sharp emerald eyes, then recoiled when she saw the horrific state of Talia’s face. Talia touched her swollen cheek and smiled suggestively.
“It was just a light sibling quarrel. Isn’t that right, brother?”
When she tilted her head to seek his agreement, the sound of grinding teeth came through his clenched jaw.
She stepped in front of the seething Gareth. A guard moved to intervene, but she ignored him, looking straight into her half-brother’s deep green eyes.
“Actually, we’re close enough to share secrets, aren’t we?”
His face was flushed so red it looked as if it might burst. He looked like he wanted to chew her up alive.
But perhaps unwilling to risk his sordid secret being exposed before Aila, he released his tension and spoke in a strained, choked voice.
“……Take your hand off me.”
Varkas, who had been watching Gareth’s face, let go. It seemed he had been exerting significant pressure, as clear handprints remained on Gareth’s sun-tanned skin. Gareth clutched the spot, glared at Varkas and Talia with pure hostility, and spun toward the encampment.
Talia watched his retreating, defeated figure and tittered, but then she felt a cold gaze on her. She wiped the laughter from her face and held her head high. As always, that emotionless, unreadable face was looking down at her silently.
However, Talia could clearly read the disillusionment and rage within his icy pupils.
He gripped her arm with his gauntleted hand and gestured to the guard.
“Escort the First Imperial Princess to her chambers.”
Then, after a slight bow to the stiffly standing Aila, he led Talia away through the trees as if she were a prisoner being marched to her sentence.
Talia twisted her face in a vicious scowl.
No matter what anyone said, she was an Imperial Princess. As an imperial vassal, he had no right to drag the Emperor’s daughter around like a stray dog.
Talia violently pulled her arm from his grip.
“You insolent wretch! Let go of me this instant—!”
At that moment, her body soared into the air. Talia let out a scream. Varkas, having hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, strode through the tents, ignoring the looks of astonishment.
Talia, her face burning, thrashed like a cornered beast. But no matter how hard she pounded on his back and shoulders or kicked out wildly, Varkas did not budge in the slightest.