Those eyes, slick with anticipation, clung stickily to her chest before slowly sliding downward.
Then, as if tracing the outline revealed beneath the thin fabric, they lingered for a long moment before crawling back up to lock directly with hers.
Talia felt all the muscles in her body stiffen.
She knew she had to run—now—but her legs refused to move.
The man licked his lower lip and began creeping closer.
"If Your Highness would only permit me, then I…"
His calloused, rough hand brushed against the hair that fell over her shoulder.
With terrified eyes, she watched her golden strands twist around those wooden, clumsy fingers.
She couldn't breathe properly. She ought to shout—demand how he dared lay a hand on her—but no sound escaped her parted lips.
Perhaps mistaking her stillness for consent, the man who had been gently caressing each strand of her hair now reached for her face.
His palm, rough as sandpaper, grazed her tender skin painfully.
As fear gripped her and she drew her neck in, a large, gauntleted hand suddenly thrust out of the darkness and seized the man's wrist.
Talia flinched, as if awakened from a trance, and staggered backward.
When she lifted her head, she saw a pair of bright silver-blue eyes gleaming fiercely.
In that instant, her heart dropped with a thud.
Instinctively, she pressed her back against the wall.
Barkas, looking down at her with a blank expression, slowly turned his gaze toward the monk.
Whatever the monk saw in those eyes, his body, which had frozen like stone, began to tremble all over as though he'd come face to face with a ghost.
"I—I only… Your Highness, I just…"
"Silence."
The deep, heavy voice cut off the man's stammering excuses.
The monk's pale face twisted into an expression of agony.
It might have looked as if Barkas were holding him lightly, but in truth, his grip seemed strong enough to snap bone.
Looking the sweating monk squarely in the face, Barkas spoke slowly.
"Neither of us wants to make this a bigger problem than it is. Go back quietly."
Groaning in pain, the monk nodded frantically.
Releasing his arm, Barkas added,
"Until we leave this place, I'd suggest you keep out of my sight."
"Y-yes, of course."
The man whimpered, clutching his wrist, which had swollen a livid blue.
Barkas jerked his chin as if to say "get lost."
Without delay, the man stumbled away in a panic.
Watching his pitiful retreat for a brief moment, Barkas then turned back toward her.
Talia's eyes fell on their own before she could stop them.
Though she had done nothing wrong, her mouth went dry, and heat rushed up her neck.
Uneasy and fidgeting, she darted glances at him, when his chillingly calm voice rang out.
"Follow me. I'll escort you to your quarters."
Talia, her body still tense, suddenly felt all strength drain from her arms.
A strange mixture of frustration and sorrow surged up inside her.
I was nearly violated. I was terrified to death. And yet—you're so detached?
Biting her lip in anger, she strode past him.
She would rather die than show weakness before this man.
Chin lifted high, she marched briskly across the garden. Before long, beyond the long colonnade, she could see the dormitory reserved for female devotees.
Keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead, she snapped sharply,
"We're here. You can stop following me now!"
Knights were standing guard around the building.
She wouldn't face the same humiliation again.
She quickened her steps as if to flee—but after only a few paces, she found herself trapped between him and the building's outer wall.
Talia looked up at him, eyes wide.
"Wh-what… what are you doing all of a sudden…"
"Perhaps you should get burned once, after playing with fire."
His voice rasped like it was scraping the inside of his throat.
He seemed to notice it himself and paused briefly before speaking again, his tone steadier.
"Don't you think it's time you learned to be careful?"
She felt the blood drain from her face.
Barkas studied her sharply, as though dissecting her with his eyes, then curled his lips faintly.
"Or do you truly wish to throw yourself around carelessly?"
Without thinking, Talia swung her hand.
But, as before, he caught her wrist before it could reach his face.
Barkas added, slowly,
"If that's the case, I'd still ask you to restrain yourself—for now. Until this journey is over, I'd rather not have any troublesome incidents arise."
Her lips trembled violently, but she pressed them tightly shut.
He released her wrist and turned away, saying,
"I trust you understand."
At that moment, had she possessed a knife, she would have plunged it into his back without hesitation.
Like a fish swimming through water, silently, she glared at his retreating back with murderous eyes.
But when her vision began to blur, she quickly turned her head away.
Even knowing he wouldn't look back, she was terrified he might see her tears.
Roughly rubbing her eyelids with her sleeve, Talia fled into the dormitory.
The next morning, the ceremony proceeded as if nothing had happened.
Talia sat by the window of her assigned chamber, gazing down at the twins walking toward the altar, with Barkas following behind them as their escort.
Ordinarily, she too should have been among them.
But she had excused herself, claiming poor health—a flimsy pretext to avoid the royal duty of participating in the ritual.
By rights, the ceremony should have been postponed, but it proceeded as scheduled, owing to the Crown Prince's firm insistence.
Perhaps the monastery was even pleased by this. They likely hadn't wanted to bestow the god's blessing upon an illegitimate child anyway.
'…Maybe I should've just gone.'
Talia let out a faint, dry laugh, but when she saw Ayla and Barkas standing side by side before the altar, the smile faded from her face.
If she'd been there with them, she didn't know what she might have done.
Perhaps she would've rushed at one—or both—and tried to kill them.
'I can't even tell anymore… which of the two I hate more.'
Out of habit, Talia raised a hand toward her mouth but lowered it again, not wanting to ruin her freshly grown nails.
She couldn't bear to watch any longer.
Drawing the curtains closed, she threw herself onto the bed.
Curled up in the dimness, memories of the previous night swirled through her mind—
Those lust-filled eyes, the hands reaching for her, and Barkas's cold, merciless gaze.
"Perhaps you should get burned once, after playing with fire… Don't you think it's time you learned to be careful?"
Talia pulled the blanket over her head.
Barkas thought she had seduced that man.
Perhaps he wasn't entirely wrong.
She had always been the kind of fool who drove herself into corners through reckless behavior…
And it had always been his role to rescue her from the mess.
He had only just escaped that wretched responsibility, and now something similar had happened again—it was no wonder he was sick of her.
He must truly be disgusted with her by now.
She buried her face in the pillow and let out a low, bitter laugh.
She remembered the moment he had walked out of her life.
Maybe it was because something so similar had happened just the night before.
Watching the thin rays of light slip through the curtains, Talia slowly closed her eyes.
The memories she had buried deep began to scatter chaotically across her mind.
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