Chapter 5
----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Diva Chapter: 5 Chapter Title: The Line You Dare Not Cross -----------------------------------------------------------------
“You just can’t seem to grasp that there’s a line you’re not supposed to cross.”
Barkas spoke in his usual flat tone. But his handsome face was twisted in barely restrained fury, patience worn thin.
Talia twisted her arm, trying to wrench free from his grip. But the iron hold of a seasoned knight felt like a shackle. Standing like a faithful shield in front of the crown prince and Aila, Barkas pulled her even closer and spat the words right in her face.
“Just how far do you plan to sink before you’re satisfied? Even scraping the very bottom isn’t enough for you?”
“I showed you the bottom?”
Talia tilted her chin up defiantly and let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“Noble son of Grand Duke Sheerkhan, do you really think you know anything about the depths of human depravity? Don’t pretend you do.”
She pressed herself right up against him, flashing a suggestive smile. Unlike the other men who’d melt into dazed confusion at her gaze and scent alone, Barkas didn’t flicker an inch. His eyes just screamed utter disgust.
Talia felt the urge to jam her meticulously manicured nails—honed sharp every night—straight into those icy pupils.
“From where you’re standing, I must look pretty low. But I’ve still got a long way to go before I hit rock bottom.”
She stared straight into his eyes as she spoke. A fathomless mire lurked in their depths.
This man will shove me into that abyss soon enough. So before I fall, I’ll at least rake some deep scars across their futures. Fair’s fair.
Her deep blue eyes gleamed with venomous light. A dangerous glint flickered in Barkas’s gaze as he looked down at her malice-twisted face. They glared at each other like they wanted to kill, when a heartbreakingly pitiful voice came from behind him.
“Barkas.”
The man who’d been glaring daggers at Talia whipped around to his fiancée at once.
Aila wore an expression so wretched it could pierce any onlooker’s heart. She timidly tugged at the hem of Barkas’s coat with her fingertips and pleaded,
“I… I want to change my clothes. Will you take me out of here?”
“……As you wish.”
Barkas wrapped one arm around Aila’s shoulders and turned away. He gave no sign that Talia even existed anymore—his eyes never strayed back over his shoulder as he led his fiancée out of the banquet hall.
Talia felt the madness that had gripped her drain away in an instant.
Despair, pain, and jealousy rushed in to fill the void. But even amid the gut-wrenching agony, she forced a composed front.
As if she’d claimed victory, Talia plastered on a triumphant smile and sauntered toward the terrace laden with drinks and food. The crowd parted like they were dodging something repulsive.
She ignored them, elegantly lifting a fresh glass of wine. But before she could take two sips, Count Serian, who’d been watching their scuffle from afar, hurried over and snatched it away.
“You should leave the banquet hall at once.”
“Why?”
She reached casually for a plate of pomegranate seeds as she replied.
“Didn’t you hear 1st Princess Highness say to enjoy the party? I haven’t had my fill yet.”
“I admire Your Highness’s boldness, but there’s a dangerous beast glaring at you from behind like it’s about to pounce any second.”
The count nodded toward the crown prince. Just as he said, Gares looked ready to draw steel right then and there.
A thick vein bulged taut along his sun-bronzed neck, and the clenched muscles of his jaw twitched faintly. It was clear he was barely holding back an explosive temper.
Normally, she’d prod her brother further, goading him into some horrific act. But right now, she didn’t have the energy.
Talia dropped the bravado and placed a hand on Count Serian’s forearm. They slipped out of the banquet hall at a swift but dignified pace—not quite a run.
A carriage waited in front of the garden. As the guard knight eagerly opened the door, Talia stepped onto the footboard. But just as she settled into the plush seat, someone shoved her roughly inside.
Talia tumbled to the floor and looked up. Gares had shoved past her guard knight and thrust his head into the carriage, eyes blazing with menace.
“We’re barely tolerating your existence.”
He growled, wrapping his callused, rough hand around her throat. The guard knight couldn’t bring himself to touch the crown prince and could only shout in protest.
Gares ignored the whining knight, squeezing her neck harder with both hands. Instinctively, Talia kicked and scraped her nails into the bulging veins on her brother’s hands. But in his rage-blinded state, he didn’t seem to feel a thing.
He leaned in close to her ear and spat,
“And we’ve endured it for a very long time. Endured, endured, endured.”
The crown prince’s vivid green eyes burned like hellfire.
“So no need to push anymore, little sister. We already hate you plenty……”
Gares finally released her and stood.
Talia clutched her throat with both hands, gasping desperately for air. Coughs kept bursting out, making it hard to breathe. Her face flushed red as she panted raggedly, and then the crown prince’s sinister voice pierced her eardrums.
“Remember this. Your mother’s meddling days, and you—filthy bastard—strutting around the palace… they’re numbered.”
With that, he kindly shut the carriage door himself and left.
As Talia staggered to her feet, she noticed two of her carefully manicured nails had snapped off. She frowned. Sticky blood beaded at the jagged tips. She stroked them fondly, then muttered in a hoarse, fading voice,
“……Guess I’ll have to grow them out again.”
This time, I’ll file them even sharper. Sharp enough to dig into bone.
A hissing laugh escaped her lips, like air leaking out.
She didn’t even know why she was laughing.
Her useless guard knight flung open the door to check on her, staring down in stunned disbelief. He must think I’ve lost my mind. And maybe he’s right. I went mad a long time ago.
She sprawled on the dark carriage floor, giggling for a good while.
* * *
The entire palace was in an uproar. In just a few days, the 1st Princess and Crown Prince would set off on their pilgrimage. It was a rite every descendant of the great emperor Darian—who unified the ten kingdoms—had to undertake upon reaching adulthood.
Women usually went before marriage, men after turning twenty. But since the two shared a birthday, the crown prince insisted it was only natural for them to receive the gods’ blessings together on the same day. So preparations were made for both.
And to escort the empire’s two highest figures after the emperor and empress, an elite unit from the Imperial Knight Order was deployed. Naturally, the overall commander was Barkas, head of the Imperial Guard. Thanks to that, Talia often caught sight of him bustling about the inner courtyard from her detached palace window.
Today, too, he braved the steady drizzle, inspecting weapons, horses, and travel gear. Talia lay draped over the windowsill, staring unblinking.
Barkas glanced up at the sky, gauging the time. Silver rain veiled his face softly, filling her vision.
The day I fell for him… it was raining just like this.
Talia reminisced about that day.