Chapter 41
----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Diva Chapter: 41 Chapter Title: Veins of Fury -----------------------------------------------------------------
Veins bulged on the Crown Prince's thick nape.
Edric sidled up close to Talia at the sight of him looking ready to swing a fist at any moment. It wasn't just him who had sensed the danger; Barkas, who had been standing silently like a shadow, inserted himself between the two.
"The schedule has been delayed quite a bit. Shall we proceed with the ceremony now?"
The 2nd Princess, who had gone rigid for a moment, turned her eyes to Sir Sheerkhan.
Though it was but an instant, Edric—who had every nerve on edge—could tell that her body had tensed up stiffly. Even this thunderbolt of a woman knew enough to tread carefully when Sir Sheerkhan turned serious.
She clamped her mouth shut and looked away. The Crown Prince, who had been snorting like he was about to explode, ground his teeth and returned to the altar.
With the situation seemingly settled, the head priest—who had been shrinking his neck like a turtle and watching nervously—cleared his throat and resumed the ceremony.
Edric stood a short distance away, watching as the three royals received their blessings one by one.
The Crown Prince stepped up to the altar first, bowing his head. The head priest lifted a silver chalice, poured holy water over it, and chanted blessings in the ancient tongue.
Next came the 1st Princess and her soon-to-be husband, Sir Sheerkhan. Finally, Talia bowed before the priest.
Edric stared at Talia, who had her eyes cast down, as if she were a stranger.
The light from hundreds of candles cast a mystical glow over her tawny golden hair and pale skin, making her look like a being from another world.
He was gazing at her in a daze when the priest poured holy water over her head as well.
The clear stream soaked her golden-thread-like hair, trickling down her smooth forehead and cheeks, along her straight nose, and pooling at the tip of her chin.
The priest placed his hand over her head and poured in his divine power.
"May the grace of the gods be with you forever..."
The prayer, which had seemed like it would never end, finally came to a halt.
As the priest rang the silver bell, the Crown Prince rose first and crossed the nave.
The 1st Princess and Sir Sheerkhan followed, and Talia Roem Guirta slowly straightened up as well. She then lifted her chin high and strode across the nave with the bearing of a queen.
No one could tear their eyes away from her commanding figure.
The incarnation of discord. An ominous, foreboding presence.
As if in that moment, they were realizing for the first time that the woman they had always seen that way was, in truth, an imperial princess...
* * *
Perhaps due to the sharp rise in altitude, the air—which had been as hot as a steaming bath—had cooled.
Talia inhaled the dry, crisp air and gazed out the window at the sky where the sun was dipping low.
Deep blue night was gathering from the east. Another day was drawing to a close without incident.
Her throat burned as if she had swallowed a lump of fire.
Talia opened the compartment in the corner of the carriage and took out the small silver knife she had picked up from the monastery. The pale blade seemed to be calling out to her, as if tired of waiting.
She slipped it into her pocket and carefully alighted from the carriage. The lively encampment came into view at once.
She pulled the hood attached to her gown over her head and scanned her surroundings cautiously. It seemed they were throwing a grand feast to lift Gares's sour mood.
The servants bustled between tents more busily than usual, carrying alcohol and food, while some soldiers were already thoroughly drunk.
Talia toyed with the blade in her pocket and wet her parched lips. The rowdy atmosphere was welcome. It would make carrying out her task easier. She crossed the encampment carefully.
At that moment, a guard knight who spotted her came running over with a bright face.
"Your Highness!"
Talia furrowed her brow.
Why was this man wagging his tail at her so persistently? His inexplicably friendly attitude even made her feel unpleasant.
Talia glared at his innocently harmless face as if he harbored no ill intentions, then snorted derisively and brushed past him. But even at her cold response, the man didn't falter.
"You must have been feeling really cooped up, right? Come this way. The servants have prepared food. If you watch them cook, Your Highness can rest assured, can't you?"
Ignoring the knight's nonstop chatter, she headed toward the sound of music.
It wasn't long before she found Gares in front of a lavish tent, fire lit, enjoying a feast.
She stopped at a distance. His retainers were doing everything they could to cheer up the sulking Crown Prince, who was tilting his glass with a grumpy face. While footmen dressed as clowns juggled daggers, musicians played sticky tunes to his taste, and some maids pretended to serve him while flirting coyly. As she watched the scene with a sneer, the guard knight blocked her path.
"It would be better to go that way."
Talia looked up at his serious face. He had worn the same expression guarding her side at the temple. As if he would protect her from danger.
Talia scoffed inwardly. As if I'd fall for that.
"Mind your own business."
She snapped coldly and turned toward the tents lined up near the riverbank.
Her target had never been Gares to begin with. Talia rolled her eyes, trying to find Aila's camp while appearing as natural as possible. Soon, she spotted her half-sister, surrounded by a group of maids, enjoying her meal.
She fell into brief contemplation.
Aila was surrounded by knights. To them, she was a person of interest, so approaching rashly would get her stopped immediately.
She bit her lip anxiously.
How could she get close to her half-sister without raising suspicion?
Lost in thought, she noticed the guard knight, who had been talking nonstop, suddenly go quiet.
Talia glanced up. The man was looking down at her with suspicious eyes. He seemed to have noticed something off about her unusual behavior.
Feigning nonchalance, she perched on a nearby dining table. Then, to divert the knight's attention, she blurted out,
"I'm hungry. Bring me something to eat."
His face lit up at her words, as if delighted. What an absurdly simple man.
"Please wait just a moment! I'll have it ready right away."
With the annoying watchdog gone, Talia peered from under her deep hood to check Aila's movements again. Her half-sister was laughing continuously at the maids' jokes.
Could she really end that detestable woman's life?
Her mouth went dry. She might get subdued by a knight who noticed something suspicious before she even tried. It wouldn't pass as a prank then.
She toyed with the blade in her pocket, pondering if this act was truly worth staking her life on.
Even if Aila vanished from the world, she wouldn't get Barkas. He would live his life as always, and she would turn to dew on the execution ground. All this foolish action would bring was a miserable death.
'Still...'
Was watching Aila become Grand Duchess Sheerkhan and bear his heir any better than death?
While Aila raised his successor as Grand Duchess Sheerkhan, she would wither away in excruciating pain.
She might even be forced to marry the man Senevia had chosen. Unable to endure that filthy man's grubby touch, she would hang herself. No, she surely would.
Either way, death awaited. Better to end it cleanly today, taking Aila as her companion on the road.
With her resolve hardened at last, Talia rose. As she moved to approach Aila as naturally as possible, a familiar figure suddenly entered her view.
'That woman...'