I, who had been floating in the afterimage of my memories as if floating in a cloud, slowly returned to reality.
When I lifted my heavy eyelids, a flickering candle came into view.
As I stared blankly at it, my hazy senses gradually became clearer.
I slowly straightened myself up, engulfed in a strange emptiness.
For a while, I couldn't recognize where I was.
It took a few seconds for me to realize that I was lying in an unfamiliar room, on an unfamiliar bed.
As I looked around the lavishly decorated bedroom with empty eyes, I suddenly felt a foreign sensation and lowered my gaze.
My legs were clearly exposed under my short underpants.
Nope. It wasn't my own legs.
There is no way that such an ugly thing could be attached to my body.
With trembling hands, I stroked my uneven knees, as if the wax had been tangled together.
The shape of my legs was strange.
The direction of my shins and kneebones was slightly distorted, and my pale skin was covered with scars that were as stiff and rough as the bark of a tree.
As I ran through the long scars that stretched from my calves to my knees and thighs like cracks in broken pottery, I soon began to scratch them with my fingertips.
I felt as if I could peel off these uneven stains from my skin and reveal my original skin that had shone like a pearl.
I ignored the burning pain and relentlessly tore away the reddish, swollen, dark red marks. Then red blood dripped down the stream.
As I looked down at it with a stunned face, I heard a creaking sound from somewhere.
I lifted my head and opened my eyes wide to see Senevere sitting at an angle on a chair with velvet sheets.
The Empress, who was staring at me with blue eyes that shone brightly even in the darkness, opened her blood-red lips and spewed out a sweet beauty.
"Do you dare to dig through the wounds that have healed? It's troublesome to bring in a healer again."
She set down the small booklet she had been holding in her hand on the table and furrowed her eyebrows.
I stared at her without blinking, and my parched lips pursed.
"In my body... What did you do?"
At the question, the Empress's eyes widened slightly, then curved into a crescent moon.
Senevere smiled softly, as if she had heard a funny joke, and shook her head.
"I don't think that's what you would say to your mother, who even called the 'Eternal Clan' to cure you."
"..."
"Don't look at me like that. I know you distrust me... This time, I did everything I could for you. I'm disappointed that this is the only result."
Senevere eyes slowly crawled down her body and rested on the bloodied scar.
I hurriedly pulled the blanket over my legs. My fingertips trembled as if I were looking at something ugly.
She let out a small sigh and continued.
"I thought I would argue with them, but I think they did their best. Not only the bones, but also some of the muscles and nerves were damaged, and they pleaded that it was a miracle that they were able to recover to this extent."
Turning to her daughter, who was on the verge of collapsing from the shock, the Empress continued to speak in an eerily calm manner.
"I can't do anything about that scar. He made an incision in the wound several times and tried to cast magic again, but even the ugly scar was regenerated. It was probably because the wound was left unattended for a long time, which caused the degeneration of the skin tissue."
A sigh came out of her mouth.
"But I can't blame the Imperial Palace's healer. If he had healed the wound right away, your skin would have been cleaner than it is now, but your legs would never have been used. But now, at least you can walk, so you should take comfort in that."
The words that poured out of her seemed to turn Into Iron skewers and make my stomach ache.
Senevere said to me as if driving a wedge into my stunned.
"I'm so sorry."
I slowly lowered my head.
Senevere, who had been looking at me with a thoughtful gaze, got up from her chair and stepped in front of me. Soft fingers scented with flowers touched my cheeks.
"Thalia. Remember when I said that beautiful and weak things are subject to plunder?"
I struggled to meet her eyes with my cloudy eyes.
My face, which looked like it had been elaborately sculpted with pearls, gold, and sapphires, was filled with tears.
She spoke to me affectionately, as if she were telling me an old story.
"Then, what happens to the weak and ugly things?"
"..."
"Ugly things are the object of ridicule and contempt. They are not even subject to looting. They are simply trampled on, ridiculed, and rejected in a senseless way. Because people have a habit of constantly looking for something to hate and despise to prove their superiority. To be flawed means to be a good prey for such people."
I tried hard not to cry, but a rough sob came out of my throat.
The words she poured out hurt more than my bleeding legs.
Looking down at her daughter's face distorted with tears, Senevere clicked her tongue pitifully.
"But don't worry. I don't want my daughter to be in that situation."
Cold fingers like the legs of an insect kicked the matted hair from my cheeks.
I could see her eyes narrowed.
It was as if she were promising even more despair.
***
In the huge temple inside the Imperial Palace, thirty-four coffins were neatly placed.
While the priests were pouring holy water and reciting prayers, the mourners placed flowers on the coffin one after another.
Sitting in the pew, Asroth watched the long and tedious process, rolling his eyes and spying on his half-brothers.
His elder brother was sitting at the table, as always arrogant, and Ayla Roem Guerta was mourning the dead with grace, befitting the nickname 'The Perfect Princess'.
It was a scene that was no different from usual. However, he felt a strange discomfort.
Asroth pondered the reason and soon realized that his half-sister was very angry about something.
She had a pretty sad expression, but her eyes were as cold as ice, and her mouth was visibly stiff.
'Why are you so angry?'
Unlike his older brother, who expressed all his emotions as they were, she always hid herself behind a quiet smile.
It was interesting to him that his sister, who never showed any gaps, was showing her emotions in front of so many people.
'Was it so upsetting that the wedding was postponed?'
Asroth's eyes naturally turned to her fiancé.
Barcas Laedgo Sheerkhan stood beside the altar with his back straight, quietly observing the funeral rites. It looked more like a statue in a church than a living person.
Intrigued by his overly static appearance, Asroth scanned him from head to toe.
The next Grand Duke Sheerkhan wore a sleek, sleek, shoulder-to-waist doublet, breeches that fit like armor, and a long navy blue cape draped over his left shoulder.
He was dressed rather modestly, but in Asroth's eyes, he looked much nicer than the nobles who were fully dressed. He could understand his half-sister's upset that the wedding was postponed.
'...Now that this accident has happened, I will be able to go on a pilgrimage again next year.'
Does this mean that the wedding of Ayla Roem Gurta and the next Grand Duke of Sheerkhan will also be postponed until next year?
Asroth, who thought about it, suddenly frowned at his arrogance.
Suddenly, his chest tightened.
He hoped that his half-sister, who always looked at him with reluctance, would leave for the Grand Duke as soon as possible.
"Perhaps, we can break the tradition of the imperial family and hold the wedding as planned."
He looked at Lord Sheerkhan with a fervent prayer.
Please, take Ayla Roem Gurta to the East.
At that moment, the man turned his head, as if he had heard his ridiculous prayer.
Asroth lowered his eyes.
His heart sank as if he were looking into his own head.
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