Chapter 27
----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Diva Chapter: 27 Chapter Title: A Narrow Escape -----------------------------------------------------------------
His eyes, gleaming with eager anticipation, clung stickily to her chest before slowly sliding downward. They lingered there for a long moment, as if tracing the contours revealed beneath the thin fabric of her dress, then crawled back up to stare intently into her own.
Talia felt every muscle in her body stiffening. She knew she needed to run right then and there, but her legs refused to budge.
The man licked his lower lip and crept closer.
"If Your Highness would only permit it, I could..."
His rough, callused hand brushed against the strands of hair draped over her shoulder. With wide, terrified eyes, she watched as her hair wound around his thick, log-like fingers.
She couldn't draw a proper breath. She should have bellowed at him—How dare you lay a hand on me?—but no sound escaped her gaping mouth.
Taking her stillness as consent, the man who had been stroking her golden locks one strand at a time now reached toward her face.
His palm, rough as sandpaper, scraped painfully against her tender skin. As terror made her shrink back, a large hand encased in a gauntlet shot out from the darkness and seized the man's wrist.
Talia recoiled with a jolt, as if snapping out of a trance. When she looked up, she saw silver-blue eyes gleaming coldly.
In that instant, her heart plummeted with a heavy thud.
Instinctively, she pressed herself against the wall. Barkas, gazing down at them with an impassive face, slowly turned his eyes toward the man.
Whatever he saw in those eyes made the monk—who had been frozen like stone—begin trembling violently, as if he'd encountered a ghost.
"I-I was only... Y-Your Highness..."
"Quiet."
The heavy baritone cut off the man's excuse. The monk's face, drained white, twisted in agony. It looked like a light grip at first glance, but in truth, Barkas was squeezing with enough force to snap bones.
Barkas leaned in close to the man's sweat-drenched face and spoke slowly.
"We both want to avoid making a scene. Go back to your seat quietly."
The monk nodded frantically amid his groans of pain.
As Barkas released his arm, he added,
"Until we leave this place, you'd do well to stay out of my sight."
"I-I'll keep that in mind."
The man clutched his swollen, bruised wrist and whimpered.
Barkas jerked his chin dismissively, as if to say scram. Without hesitation, the man bolted away in a panic. Barkas watched his unseemly retreat for a moment before turning back to her.
Talia lowered her gaze without thinking. She hadn't done anything wrong, yet her mouth went dry and heat rose to the nape of her neck. Fidgeting anxiously as she stole glances at him, a voice so chillingly calm rang out.
"Follow me. I'll escort you back to your quarters."
Talia, whose body had been rigid with tension, felt a strange wave of relief wash over her, her arms going limp. In that moment, a surge of inexplicable anger and grievance flooded her.
I almost suffered something horrific. I was scared out of my mind. So why are you acting so detached?
Biting her lip in frustration, Talia strode briskly past him. She refused to show any weakness, even if it killed her.
How long had she marched across the garden with her head held high? Soon, the dormitory for the female devotees came into view beyond the long colonnade.
Keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead, she snapped curtly,
"We're here, so stop following me!"
Knights stood guard around the building. There would be no repeat of what had just happened.
She quickened her pace as if fleeing. But after only a few steps, she found herself trapped between him and the outer wall.
Talia looked up at him with wide eyes.
"Wh-what... Suddenly..."
"After getting badly burned once from playing with fire..."
His voice scratched roughly at his throat. Sensing it himself, he paused for a moment. Then a steadier tone followed.
"Isn't it about time you started being more careful?"
She felt the blood drain from her face. Barkas's gaze raked over her features as if dissecting them, and he twisted his lips.
"Or do you truly want to throw your body around recklessly?"
Talia swung her hand without a second thought. But once again, it was caught by the wrist before it could reach his face. Barkas added slowly,
"If that's the case, please restrain yourself for the time being. Until this journey ends, I'd rather avoid any troublesome incidents."
She clamped her trembling lips shut. He released her arm and slowly turned away.
"I trust you understand."
In that moment, if she'd had a knife in her hand, she would have plunged it into his back without hesitation.
Talia glared murderously at his back as it receded silently, like a fish slipping away through water. Then, feeling her vision blur, she whipped her head away.
She knew he wouldn't look back, but she feared he might catch a glimpse of her tears. Roughly scrubbing her eyes with her sleeve, Talia fled into the dormitory.
* * *
The next morning, the ceremony proceeded as if nothing had happened.
Talia perched by the window of her assigned bedroom, gazing down at the twin siblings heading toward the altar, with Barkas following close behind like their escort.
By all rights, she should have been among them. But she'd made an excuse about feeling unwell and skipped out. It was absurd for a royal to dodge a mandatory ritual with such a flimsy pretext.
Normally, the ceremony would have been postponed, but it went ahead as scheduled due to the Crown Prince's firm insistence. Perhaps the monastery welcomed the situation. After all, bestowing divine blessings on a bastard child must have chafed them.
...Maybe I should have just gone.
Talia, who had been chuckling to herself, saw Aila and Barkas standing side by side before the altar and wiped the smile from her face.
If she'd joined them there, who knew what she might have done. She might have even lunged at one of them with murderous intent.
Which of the two I hate more... I don't even know anymore.
Habitually lifting her fingers to her mouth, Talia lowered her arm again—she didn't want to ruin her newly grown nails.
She couldn't bear to watch any longer. Drawing the curtains, she flung herself onto the bed.
Huddled in the dim darkness, memories of the previous night swirled in her mind: the lust-filled gaze, the hand reaching for her, and Barkas's icy stare...
"After getting badly burned once from playing with fire... Isn't it about time you started being more careful?"
Talia yanked the blanket over her head.
Barkas believed she had seduced that man. And maybe he wasn't wrong. She had a habit of foolishly backing herself into corners... and rescuing her from peril was his role.
She'd finally escaped that tiresome duty, only for something similar to happen again—of course he'd be fed up. He must be utterly disgusted with her by now.
She buried her face in the pillow and let out a muffled chuckle.
The memory surfaced of the moment he'd walked out of her life. Perhaps because something similar had happened just yesterday.
Staring at the beam of light filtering through the curtains, Talia slowly closed her eyes. Long-buried memories unfolded chaotically in her mind.