Barcas swallowed a low sigh.
After that evening's argument, she'd been holed up in her room, refusing to show her face. Ever since she was a child, if something bothered her, she'd lock herself in the room, so it wasn't surprising. Time would surely improve her mood, he thought to himself, as he took heavy steps up the stairs.
"Bring my meal to the study. And prepare a change of clothes."
"Yes, I'll get ready right away."
Ignoring the butler's answer, he headed straight to the study.
The room was already brightly lit by candlelight. Even the servants seemed to have come to accept his presence here as a normal part of their daily routine.
Barcas let out a bitter smile, took off his damp outer garment, placed it in a basket, and sat down on the chair by the window. Only then did the fatigue he hadn't been aware of begin to wash over him.
He looked at the window with raindrops splashing through his blurry eyes.
Tomorrow, they would have to ride for at least half a day through the torrential rain. At the end of the journey, a one-sided battle, bordering on massacre, would await them.
No matter how brave the Zrams were, they were ultimately nothing more than a ragtag rabble. Their crude weapons wouldn't even scratch the heavy armor of the Sheerkhan clan, a culmination of dwarven technology. If the enemy's size didn't exceed the expected range, the battle would be over before dawn.
He rested his head on the back of his chair, reaching for the goblet the servants had placed before him.
At that moment, the sound of the doorknob turning broke the silence.
He furrowed his brows. A momentary sense of discomfort washed over him at the thought of the door being opened without permission, but he dismissed it as the mistake of a servant who hadn't yet heard the news of his master's return, and brushed it off as a thoughtless remark.
"You came at a good time. Would you like a glass of wine?"
As he lifted his glass, his head still fixed, he heard a rustling noise. Barcas, aware of the unnatural, uneven footsteps, immediately straightened his slumped body. At the same time, a sweet, mouth-watering aroma wafted through the humid air.
He turned to the woman standing beside him. Thalia, clad in a multitude of dresses that clearly showed off her slender figure, was leaning toward him, clutching a large bottle of liquor in both hands.
"I have to eat soon, so just drink a little."
The woman, who had poured a little wine into his glass, whispered sarcastically. Barcas, who had been staring blankly up at her, belatedly came to his senses and rose from his seat.
"Are you staying here?"
Her eyes fluttered slightly at the questioning voice. But any trace of agitation vanished in an instant behind a faint smile.
"I've been waiting for you to come back."
She pointed to the bedroom door connected to the study. Shifting his gaze there, Barcas frowned upon seeing the table beyond the half-open door. A large round table held a vase filled with colorful flowers and a silver candlestick, both neatly arranged.
"We haven't had a meal together since I came back, so I prepared something."
Although she tried hard to appear calm, there was a tension in her voice that could not be hidden.
Barcas let out a weary sigh.
"This won't change my mind. Please stop making unnecessary efforts."
Even to himself, the words sounded harsh and dry. Perhaps it was even more ruthless to her, as the smile that had lingered on her crimson lips vanished.
"I didn't prepare this to change your mind. I just heard you'd be away from the castle for a few days."
She fumbled with the decoration attached to the hem of her skirt with anxious hands.
"I wanted to apologize before you left. I was too harsh that day. I shouldn't have kicked you out like that."
Barcas simply stared at her, unsure whether he could accept this invitation. He didn't want to be at the mercy of her whims any longer.
He averted his eyes from the anxious-looking face and spat out dryly.
"There's nothing to apologize for. I should have made my wishes about the child clear from the beginning. But I..."
"That story is over now."
She interrupted him urgently.
"I want a child, but if you say no, I won't force you anymore. That's not really why I came here today. I just..."
The woman, her eyes awkwardly lowered, finished speaking in a crawling voice.
"I just want to have dinner with you."
"..."
"You can refuse if you don't like it. I can eat it by myself."
When he didn't respond, she blushed and turned away. Barcas instinctively grabbed her wrist and sighed in defeat.
"Please wait a moment. I'll go change my clothes."
Only then did color return to her face. Thalia nodded like a child and hurried to her bedroom.
As the sound of the door closing echoed through the air, he threw off his damp clothes and dried himself with a dry towel. Then, he took out a clean pair of houseclothes, changed into them, and stood before the mirror, tidied his messy hair, and adjusted his clothes.
After quickly finishing his dressing, Barcas put on the silk tunica hanging on the wall and entered the bedroom where she was waiting.
"It ended sooner than I thought. Come here and sit down."
Thalia, who had been rearranging the dishes on the table with a nervous expression, suddenly stood up from her seat.
After a moment's hesitation, Barkas walked over to her side and pulled out a chair. The table was carefully laid out with steaming soup, perfectly grilled meats, and colorful fruits.
Thalia, who was putting them on his plate little by little, chattered so briskly that it felt awkward.
"Are you hungry? Eat quickly. The butler said you've been skipping meals a lot lately. You keep nagging me about my eating habits, but what if you do it yourself?"
He stopped her by grabbing her hand as it moved busily across the table.
“Please sit down, I’ll take care of the food.”
"You used to pack my meals often, didn't you? I wanted to do it for you today."
She muttered in a trembling voice, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight. Sensing that she was nervous about being rejected, Barcas meekly let go.
Thalia then awkwardly sliced the meat into small pieces and slathered various sauces all over it. She seemed to be trying to be careful, but a woman who had spent her entire life being served on could hardly be expected to handle food with skill.
He looked down at the mess of mashed pie, mangled pieces of meat, sticky jams, various sauces, and laughed heartily.
She looked at him with worried eyes.
"What's wrong? Do you not like the food?"
"No."
He picked up a fork and shoved the sticky food into his mouth.
“What do you think? Is it delicious?”
He couldn't even tell what he was eating, but he nodded indifferently.
"Your Excellency, please eat quickly."
A delighted smile appeared on Thalia's face as she poured an appropriate amount of food onto his plate and handed it to him.
She tasted a little of the lamb and fruit he'd neatly sliced, then took a few more spoonfuls of the bland chicken soup. She was still a bit choosy, but it was a significant improvement over her childhood, when she'd resented food.
"When are you leaving tomorrow?"
He was watching her eat intently when the woman, who had picked up a napkin and wiped her lips, suddenly asked him a question. He answered dryly.
"I plan to leave at dawn."
"Lucas said you were going to clear out the looters... but how many soldiers are you taking with you?"
Barcas, who was chewing on lamb smothered in peach jam, frowned and watched her intently. "I thought you were just shut in your room, but when did you last talk to Lucas?" he replied curtly, suppressing his discomfort.
"There must have been about seven hundred people gathered."
“Isn’t it too little?”
She said in surprise. He gave a faint snicker.
"It's just a matter of eradicating bandits and falcons. Seven hundred mounted warriors are more than enough."
"But... you're just commanding from behind, right?"
He diligently carried the food she offered him to his mouth, neither confirming nor denying it. Thalia, who had been watching him anxiously, suddenly stood up and picked up a silver kettle from the shelf.
"Aren't you thirsty? I'll pour you some wine."
Without a moment to stop, the goblet was filled with a deep, dark liquor. Barcas frowned at the intense aroma that assaulted his nostrils. It wasn't just wine; the strong alcoholic aroma mingled with the scent of various herbs.
"It's a special drink that replenishes your energy. It contains many medicinal herbs that are good for your body, so it will help relieve fatigue."
She explained in an awkward voice.
Barcas, who had been looking down at the red liquid with skeptical eyes, took a sip of the thick liquid as a test. It wasn't as terrible as he'd thought. He took a few more sips of the strong wine, which made his throat sting, and then set his glass down.
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