Even now, when he thinks back on that time, he feels a pang of sadness inside.
Although Thalia was born illegitimate, she grew up as a noble Princess of the empire.
She had never touched anything but the most precious, including clothes and jewelry, and was a particularly meticulous person when it came to cleanliness. And yet, she was trying to sleep on a pile of straw, dusty and tattered, looking like a rag.
Just because she doesn't want to be with him.
He forcibly tore away the gaze he'd been fixating on her face. He then reminded himself: he shouldn't read too much into her sudden change in attitude.
In the meantime, her pain must have worn away little by little. As the pain of losing her child healed, her resentment toward him must have eased somewhat.
But that didn't mean she wanted to be with him right away.
So stop thinking useless thoughts.
“Yesterday..."
Barcas, who was awakened from his thoughts by a sudden voice, turned his gaze fixed on the window.
The blue eyes that had been looking outside were now observing him.
"Where did you sleep last night?"
He furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden question, then answered mechanically.
"I slept in the bedroom next to the office."
"From now on, I will sleep in your bedroom."
For a moment, his thoughts stopped. Barcas looked at her with a hard expression.
Thalia, who had been fiddling with the metal decoration on her belt with a calm expression, soon added indifferently.
"If you keep sleeping there, won't the servants complain that the Grand Duchess kicked His Excellency the Grand Duke out of the bedroom?"
He furrowed his brows.
In fact, he thought it was no different from kicking him out, but he didn't say it out loud.
She continued curtly, pulling at the decoration on her belt as if she was about to rip it off.
"I was originally going to use my room, so from now on, you can use yours. The war is over, so I will continue to stay at Raedgo Castle. Your Excellency, the Grand Duke, cannot stay in the study forever."
"Don't worry about me. I won't be spending much time in the bedroom anyway, as I'll be catching up on some pending official business."
"Do you do all the work of the Grand Duke by yourself?"
She got angry right away.
"What kind of public service is this for someone who just returned from two years of war?"
He swallowed a sigh and explained in a calm tone.
"There are some tasks that agents or vassals can't handle on my behalf. Since I've been away for so long, there are many matters I need to keep track of."
"But you still need to get some proper sleep! All the other nobles are busy hunting and entertaining, but why are you so full of yourself?"
"Many nobles who spend their time in such a reckless manner end up suffering from financial difficulties or being ousted by their close associates."
"Not all of them are like that. It's just that you lack the knack."
Instead of explaining the complexities of running a huge city like Kalmor and its hundreds of vast estates, he simply nodded.
"Yes, it's because I'm not very clever."
Her face flushed bright red. He tried to avert his eyes from the face that seemed to be in pain.
He didn't want to mistake her anger for concern for him. No, maybe she had a little something in her heart. She might be a bit harsh on everyone, but if you get to know her, she's actually a soft-hearted woman.
Even at the beginning of their marriage, he knew that this woman was beginning to open up to him little by little.
If she had safely given birth, they would have continued to share a bed in the same room. They wouldn't have had to explore each other in awkward silence.
Their child would be two years old by now, and they might have been sleeping side by side, with their often fussy little daughter between them.
Barcas, who had been picturing the scene, hurriedly emptied his mind as if it had been burned.
He didn't want to be a dreamer who was obsessed with a worthless family.
"Anyway, don't worry about me, and keep using that bedroom. You'll need a large room to keep Khan nearby, right?"
"That's true, but... I won't be called a bad wife for sending my husband to the study for no reason."
"If there is such a person, I will kick him out of the castle."
"Do you think that's the solution? If you do that, I'll just get cursed at more!"
Eventually, a small ornament on her belt snapped off under her hand.
The woman, who was fiddling with it with her fingers, opened her mouth hesitantly.
“So it would be better...”
At that moment, the carriage, which had been moving at a steady pace, stopped. At the same time, a guard knocked lightly on the door.
"We have arrived, Your Excellency."
"Wait."
Barcas, who had spoken somewhat harshly, looked at Thalia again.
“Please continue speaking.”
"It's okay..."
The woman, who had responded with a stern expression, staggered to her feet. Barcas, who had absentmindedly tried to support her by grabbing her waist, clenched his fist.
She looked back at him and cried out in frustration.
"What are you doing here if you don't escort me?"
Only then did Barcas rise from his seat, step outside, and extend his hand to her. Thalia took it and carefully stepped out of the carriage.
At that moment, exclamations mixed with admiration spread out in all directions like waves.
Turning his head, Barcas frowned at the sight of hundreds of people gathered for the ceremony, staring blankly at Thalia. Some of them were gaping, drooling.
He wrapped one hand tightly around her silky, soft forearm and deftly shielded her with his broad shoulders. But it wasn't enough to block the gazes pouring in from all sides.
He endured the sticky gazes and slowly walked towards the entrance of the cathedral with her.
Soon, a grand chapel, enveloped in a cool breeze, unfolded before his eyes. As he crossed it, the thousands of citizens, packed to the brim with pews, rose from their seats. Among them were wealthy merchants, lower-class nobles, and even officials personally appointed by the king himself.
Barcas walked nonchalantly past those desperately trying to impress him and headed toward the high table. On the wide marble steps flanking the platform, seats reserved specifically for the Sheerkhan family were occupied.
He allowed her to climb the stairs first, then stood behind her. He assumed she might want to hide her slight limp. But she no longer seemed to be particularly concerned with the gaze of others.
Thalia, her face expressionless and head held high, slowly ascended the stairs, one hand gripping the railing. Everyone in the chapel watched her beautiful and dignified appearance with bated breath.
It wasn't a gaze directed at a living, breathing being. It was a gaze that seemed to look up at something sacred and ominous.
Perhaps sensing the strange atmosphere flowing within the chapel, the head priest jumped up from his seat and shook the bell on the altar with a stern face.
Then, all those who had been making expressions as if they were under a trance all raised their heads.
"Now, we will begin the sacrament."
At the priest's solemn declaration, a flash of shame and guilt crossed the faces of several men.
Barcas gritted his teeth. It wasn't hard to imagine what lewd thoughts were running through their minds. Throughout his time as her knight, he had had to be wary of those who would peek at her with lustful eyes.
He suppressed the irritation that was welling up in him and followed her quietly.
Several of his relatives were already occupying the second-floor seats. Among them were Lucas and Raina. Barcas nodded in response to his sisters' sullen expressions and sat down with Thalia in their assigned seats.
Soon, the boys in the choir rose from their seats and began to sing a hymn in ancient Osirian. As he gazed down at the scene, trying to hide his boredom, Barcas heard soft laughter.
He glanced around, and her face, her blue eyes shining like a mischievous child's, caught his eye.
"Look at that."
She whispered in his ear. A strange heat flowed from where her sweet breath touched.
"His face is almost purple."
He focused his consciousness on what she was pointing at.
It was only after a few seconds that she finally spotted the high priest standing before the altar. He was glaring at her with indignant eyes, as if he had been blasphemed.
"He used to nag me to dress as plainly as possible and wear a veil when I came to the cathedral. But I guess he was pissed when you came dressed up like this."
What was so funny about that fact? She giggled like a nymph plotting a wicked prank.
He furrowed his brow. She wasn't a particularly devout Christian to begin with. But she'd never shown any particular antipathy toward the church. In fact, she'd occasionally devoured theological books.
What on earth happened in the meantime to make her so hostile towards priests?
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