"I'm sorry. My thoughts were short."
The man immediately lowered his head. Barcas stepped into his bedroom without saying a word.
A squire quickly came after him. With a light gesture, he let him go. Barcas sat down on a chair, removed his armor and clothes, arranged them neatly, and soaked himself in the bath water that the servants had prepared in advance.
He had been riding his horse all day, so his body would be covered with dirt and the smell of horses.
He washed his whole body in clear water, and then took out a dark navy blue doublet and put on his woolen pants. When he stood in front of the mirror wearing shin-high boots, he saw a neatly maintained silhouette.
His body, which had been built up through long training, was perfectly trained to adopt a tight posture at any moment.
He stared at the man who looked like he had been cast by the imperial court for a while, then picked up his coat and left the room.
Just as he was about to walk towards the venue, he saw a woman coming down the stairs. Recognizing that she was a healer sent by the Imperial Palace, Barcas immediately called the woman over.
"Why are you coming down from upstairs?"
The woman bowed her head in a hurry.
"Her Highness the Princess has called me..."
He narrowed his brows. He expected Talia not to listen to him, but when he saw it with his own eyes, he felt a faint annoyance.
He asked in a stern tone.
"How is her condition?"
"She looked better than usual because she rested well for a day. Her fever has completely dropped. However, the pain in her legs still seems to be there..."
"Did she burn the sleeping weed again?"
Perhaps she could read the hint of accusation in his tone, and the healer's face hardened visibly. The woman said exorbitantly.
"Her Highness is suffering from severe chronic pain. Using a sleeping herb is the best course of action to relieve the pain."
He looked at the woman's face with a sharp look.
Can he really trust the healer given to them by the empress? She treated her daughter like a horse. He didn't know what else they were going to do behind the scenes.
He studied the woman's face carefully as if to gauge her intentions, and then nodded as if she could step away.
The woman bowed her head and walked down the stairs at a pace that was neither so fast nor so slow.
Barcas looked at the back of the woman as if observing it, and then went to Talia's bedroom.
When he knocked on the tightly closed door, a slightly locked voice came out.
"Come in."
The moment he opened the door and stepped inside, a chill of air brushed his cheeks. He furrowed his brows. Contrary to the expectation that it would be filled with thick smoke, the spacious bedroom was filled with only the faint scent of flowers and dry grass.
He calmed down his stomach and scanned the cluttered room.
Presently, he was able to spot a small shadow sitting on the windowsill.
Barcas, who was about to call her name, suddenly fell silent. He didn't know what was stopping him from speaking.
Talia, bathed in the pouring sunset light, turned her head toward him. As he made eye contact, his anxiety became even stronger.
He tugged at the doublet's neckline and strode in front of her. He locked the wide-open window tightly and pressed the back of his hand to her pale cheeks, feeling an ice-cold chill.
"How long have you been doing that?"
"What am I?"
"How long have you been in the cold wind?"
Her eyes narrowed. A pouting expression filled her small face, and she looked about two years younger than her age.
She shook his hand away and said bluntly.
"I don't know. What do you know?"
"What if you get a fever again?"
"It's a fever."
He frowned. As he was talking to this woman, a strange impulse reared its head. At the same time, there is a violent desire to force her to listen to him, and at the same time, he has a strange urge to gently coax her somehow.
Barcas took a step back, as if to shake off that strange feeling. As he distanced himself a little, she seemed relieved and saw strength drain from her stiff shoulders.
Talia, who hugged her knees with her arms and ran them up and down, said bluntly.
"Rather, why are you dressed up like that?"
"I am going to have a simple banquet where guests will come and come and have a simple banquet."
"Guests?"
"The lords of the eastern region. They came to me to stamp my eyes."
"Hmm..."
She fiddled with the edge of his coat and made a strange sound. He looked down at the hand.
The woman, who had been squeezing the hem of his robe for a long time, spoke up hesitantly.
"Shouldn't I attend too?"
He raised his gaze again. A strangely beautiful face filled his vision.
She was a woman who strangely provoked other people's emotions. Wasn't it enough to make even oneself, who had most of his senses restrained, feel strange impulses? Barcas could see what kind of chaos she would cause here, even if he didn't see it.
He took a moment to pause, then slowly shook his head.
Barcas couldn't hide her forever, but he didn't want her to be seen as much as possible, at least until he took control of the East completely.
"You don't have to. I will explain it to the vassals, so please rest for the time being."
"..Is it because you're embarrassed?"
Suddenly, her voice stood sharp. As he turned toward the door, Barcas paused and looked down at her.
She squeezed her bloody lips and said with a grimace.
"Do you already regret taking a lame woman as your wife?"
He clenched his fists. If he didn't, he felt like he was going to do something terrible. Scratching the back of his throat and swallowing the words that came up, Barcas took a long breath and waited for the emotions to subside. When his mind finally calmed down, he spat it out in a low tone.
"Sometimes I'm confused. Is what you say meant to stab me or hurt yourself..."
Her mouth hardened as if speechless.
He looked down silently at his face with deep disbelief, then turned away with a faint sigh.
"I'm going to call a maid, so dress up. If you want to attend, I won't stop you."
"That's it."
Talia jumped off the windowsill and shot coldly.
"If I stay with you, I think I'll get feverish again."
Then she staggered to the bed and threw herself on the sheet. Barcas, who was staring at the scene, quickly left the room.
As he went down the stairs and stepped into the ballroom, hundreds of eyes caught his eye.
Barcas looked around at the crowd in the hall.
Richly dressed dignitaries and their relatives occupied a table in the center of the banquet hall, while more modest men sat around them, enjoying drinks and food.
They stood up in unison.
"Have you come, my Lord?"
One of the vassals who was seated near the entrance bowed respectfully.
He accepted the greeting by tilting his head and slowly walking across the hall.
When he finally reached the table, he looked around and gave a polite greeting in a low voice.
"Thank you for coming so far. Please forgive me if the hospitality is not cool."
"Isn't it cool! I've never seen such a great wine in my life."
One of the men sitting around the long table shouted loudly.
Barcas studied him closely. The glittering coat of arms wrapped around the man's body was embroidered with the crest of a black bear. It was a symbol of a powerful family that controlled the south-central region.
The man raised his glass aloft and spoke in a provocative tone.
"Indeed, the gifts given by His Majesty the Emperor are different. I don't know if people like us dare to say it. Isn't this a reward for the Lord's lifelong dedication?"
The man shouted in a theatrical tone, gulped down the wine, and put it down with a loud bang.
"Thinking of the sweat and tears shed by my Lord, I feel that this fine wine is bitter."
There was a chilly silence in the hall.
Barcas leaned back in his chair and twisted the corners of his mouth.
"Looks like you're here to get into a fight."
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