After biting his retinue and following him out of the corridor, a flower garden full of marigolds, daisies, and rosemary appeared.
The water-soaked plants gave off a thick smell of grass in the air. Ayla, who had been soaking in the pungent scent, turned her head to look up at Barcas.
"What happened last night?"
The man who was walking quietly at the hesitant question turned his head towards her.
Ayla stared into his eyes. There was nothing in his pale blue eyes. As she stared at the pale eyes that seemed to reflect everything as they were, her heart tightened all over again.
Will the day come when I will dwell there?
As she was thinking about it, Barcas' lips opened.
"There was nothing that Your Highness could worry about."
"...I guess something happened."
Without saying anything, Barcas strode into the rain-pouring garden.
Heavy raindrops covered his broad shoulders and back in pure white. Looking at the heartless back of the wayward with dissatisfaction, Barcas held out a hand toward her.
"The puddle is deep."
Ayla understood what he meant and glanced at him with a blushing cheek.
She didn't want to give herself over to a naughty man. However, she couldn't leave her fiancé waiting for her to come to him in the rain. After a moment's distraction, Ayla approached him as if she couldn't win.
Slightly bent over, Barcas tucked an arm behind her knee and hugged her gently.
Ayla rested her head on his shoulder. Just as she had done as a five-year-old child.
"Do you know that you have a dirty corner?"
His eyebrows rose slightly at the uncontextual accusation. Instead of explaining her complicated feelings, Ayla hugged him tighter.
Barcas wrapped his cloak tightly around her body as he crossed the wide backyard. Ayla buried one cheek in his collar.
Barcas smelled the faint scent of herbs, the faint smell of metal from his armor, and the faint scent of dry leaves or hay. While shr was intoxicated by the cool body odor, her unpleasant feelings softened, like a lie. Ayla let out a self-help laugh.
It was funny to her that she was excited like a fledgling girl for an act that was just an old habit.
The reason this man is so kind to her is just to keep the vow he made to her mother. Kindness born of a sense of duty. Nothing more, nothing less. Even though shr knew it well, she couldn't help her heart ache.
'Cruel man. I'd rather be friendly. Then I could have been satisfied with a political relationship...'
She lowered her eyes sadly.
"I'm going to instruct the maid to put the bath water in your room. Let you warm up and rest."
Barcas, who had crossed the back in an instant, stopped at the entrance of the inn and said. Ayla nodded.
Barcas climbed the stone steps and bent down slightly, as if to let her go.
Then the sky flashed, and a thunderous sound of thunder rang out.
Ayla reflexively hugged him by the nape of his neck.
A roar resounded like the sky was shaken, and a flash of gold cut through the black clouds. As she stared blankly over his shoulder at the apocalyptic scene, she suddenly saw a pale figure sitting by the window on the second floor.
For a moment, she wondered if she was seeing a terrifying vision. Ayla opened her mouth in a daze.
The flashing lights illuminated her eeriely beautiful face. Her white face perched on the slender nape of her neck seemed to burn with eerie hatred.
It wasn't that she didn't know about her half-sister's unusual beauty, so why was she shocked again?
Thalia, whose eyes shone fiercely in the storm, looked like an angel of death. As Ayla held her breath at the ominous appearance, Thalia, who was motionless like a stone statue, picked up a vase from the window. Soon, the pottery flew into the pillar near where they stood.
Ayla screamed.
Barcas had wrapped her around him, but he had a small scratch on his face. Ayla hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his cheek.
Barcas took it with his characteristic grave face and wrapped his face around it, glancing up.
Ayla followed him and found Thalia still staring at her, and her face hardened.
As if she didn't feel any guilt for her actions, Thalia's mouth contorted as she shot a smug look. Her bloodied lips looked like a crushed rose.
A fear greater than anger stirred in Ayla's chest. Her half-sister, whom she had always thought was nothing, felt like the most sinister and threatening thing in the world. She felt as if the evil spirit that had caused her mother to live in misery was going to drag her into the abyss of grief.
Ayla shuddered at the eerie premonition.
***
The rain that had been falling all night subsided only at dawn.
I, who had spent the night almost awake, looked out at the garden in the light of dawn.
The fresh blades of grass were half-submerged in muddy water and gave off a thick fishy smell, and the flowers that decorated the flower beds were strewn like corpses, with their necks bent.
I, who was looking down at the scene with dim eyes, got out of bed and stepped up to the small table in front of the fireplace.
On the silver plates, untouched food was hardened. I scanned it with a nonchalant eye and picked up a small knife placed next to the tray.
It was made for cutting food, but it didn't seem to be too difficult to cut human flesh.
I smoothed the sharp tip of my knife with my fingertips, then slipped it into the pocket of my robe and walked out of the room.
The hallway was damp and damp. I swam through the heavy, sticky air, clutching my ice-cold knife tightly.
My palms were drenched with cold sweat. I had no way of knowing if it was because of tension or excitement. Maybe it's both.
I moistened my parched lips and crept up the stairs like a cat thief.
Ayla was sharing a room on the top floor. At the end of the stairs, I leaned against the wall and scanned the dark hallway. Fortunately, there was no one guarding the door.
With a small sigh of relief, I took a cautious step toward the door at the end of the hallway.
As I approached the iron-rimmed wooden door, a faint smell of herbs pierced my nose. It was the smell of scented candles that were burned to stabilize the nerves.
I twisted my lips. It seemed that last night wasn't as comfortable for Ayla as it seemed. Remembering her blue face, I chuckled. However, the scene that followed immediately lowered my mood.
My face contorted violently, I shoved my hands into my pockets and grabbed the hilt.
My whole body trembled. The moment I saw Barcas walking out in the pouring rain with Ayla in his arms, I felt something I was barely holding on to crumble.
I rubbed the white-clouded tears roughly with the sleeve of my gown.
It was a one-of-a-kind memory.
It was a memory that I would bury in my heart for a long time and sneak it out.
Should I have made those memories into nothing?
Couldn't we leave at least one of them as something special of our own?
My brain was filled with rage. I knew it was an irrational emotion. Nevertheless, I couldn't forgive them.
I want to punish Ayla for taking away the only remaining sanctuary. I want to give her back as much pain as I felt.
I tightened my burning eyes and glared at the tightly closed door. If I cross this gate, I will cross a river from which I cannot return.
Perhaps I will go down in history as an evil witch who took the life of a poor, innocent Princess. But it didn't matter. I was already considered the worst evil woman. If I fall further from here, what do I have to lose?
I gripped the doorknob with trembling hands.
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