“Are you not going to speak to him?”

The maids standing beside her urged her on, seemingly frustrated that she was only watching from afar. All of them appeared desperate to see Varkas up close. Among them were even a few whose yearning gazes went far beyond simple admiration.

Aila chose to overlook their presumptuous feelings.

It was a luxury she could afford because she knew Varkas would never cast his eyes upon another woman.

‘Though, to be fair, he has never once looked at me with passion either...’

A bitter smile touched her lips.

To begin with, Varkas lacked the ability to feel such emotions.

He had entered the imperial palace at a young age and undergone education from fanatical fundamentalist priests that bordered on brainwashing, all to shape him into a loyal servant of the Empire.

And somewhere during that process, he had lost almost all of his emotions.

Her mother had struggled desperately to protect him after discovering how cruelly the son of the Grand Duke of Siorcan was being disciplined by the priests, but by then the young boy had already lost not only joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure, but even most of the basic desires inherent to human beings.

As Aila recalled the first time she met him, her expression darkened.

How frightening that boy with eyes as empty as an insect’s discarded shell had been.

Varkas had looked like a doll molded from hardened wax. He spoke so little that hearing more than two sentences from him in a single day was rare, and unless someone instructed him directly, he neither ate nor slept. Having spent so long with every desire ruthlessly suppressed, he seemed to have lost not only his appetite but even the instinct to sleep.

Compared to those days, the current Varkas almost appeared human.

‘Perhaps... he’ll continue to improve with time.’

She gazed hopefully at her fiancé.

She had sworn countless times not to expect too much, yet whenever she looked at him, there was no stopping the faint stirring deep within her chest.

That beautiful boy who had faithfully remained beside her poor mother until the very end...

How could she possibly resist yearning for the man who had now grown into the most perfect gentleman in the entire Roem Empire?

Aila knew that countless women who had carried him in their hearts had suffered the agony of bitter heartbreak, yet she believed she stood in a far more advantageous position than any of them.

Though their engagement had been arranged to strengthen a political alliance, she would soon become his wife, and one day she would bear his heir.

If she patiently devoted her affection to him throughout the long years they would spend together, perhaps even his frozen heart might eventually thaw.

Holding tightly to that fragile hope, Aila carefully approached him.

Perhaps sensing her presence, Varkas, who had been standing with the sunlight at his back, turned his head toward her.

At that instant, Aila felt her spine go cold.

His expression looked as though it were mocking every one of her dreams and hopes.

The man stared at her with emotionless eyes before facing forward again and speaking in a flat voice devoid of any inflection.

“What brings Your Highness here?”

Steadying her shaken emotions, she deliberately curved her lips into a bright smile.

“I came to see whether preparations for the journey were going smoothly.”

“They are nearly complete.”

He answered indifferently while lightly stroking the thick neck of the horse beside him.

“The preparations have taken longer than expected, which is concerning. With the weather growing hotter, it will be an exhausting journey.”

“It can’t be helped. Gareth insisted on being difficult and disrupted the schedule.”

Aila spoke cautiously before glancing at her fiancé to gauge his reaction. Thinking of her younger brother’s childish behavior made her too embarrassed to lift her head properly.

Not only had Gareth forced his way into the trip, he had behaved as though he intended to drag the entire Crown Prince’s Palace along with him. He insisted on bringing dozens of servants to attend to him, jesters to ease his boredom during the journey, a personal chef, and even a tailor.

Aila found herself admiring Varkas’s patience all over again for silently tolerating every unreasonable demand and tantrum without once raising his voice.

She looked apologetic.

“I only feel sorry for causing you so much trouble.”

“This is not something Your Highness needs to apologize for. It was inevitable eventually.”

After handing the reins over to a stable hand, he added casually,

“Compared to what I had prepared myself for, His Highness is being relatively restrained. Considering he is sending off his precious sister, this level of spitefulness is fairly mild.”

Aila’s expression dimmed.

His words dragged to the surface the worries she had tried so hard to ignore.

Looking up at the magnificent white fortress gleaming beneath the sun, Aila tightly clenched the fabric of her dress.

The thought of leaving her younger brother alone behind in this imperial palace filled with painful memories made it feel as though her heart were being torn apart.

And worse still, did not a wicked demon reside within these walls, coveting Gareth’s position?

Could her hot-tempered younger brother truly stand against that cunning woman on his own?

“If it would not burden you too greatly, I would like to visit the imperial palace regularly even after we are married. Would that be acceptable?”

Varkas, who had been examining another horse, turned his eyes toward her. Seeing the faint crease appear between his brows, Aila realized she had made a childish request and flushed with embarrassment.

As the future Grand Duchess, managing the vast eastern territories and commanding hundreds of retainers would not be an easy responsibility. Once married, she would have to prioritize the affairs of House Siorcan above all else.

Yet Varkas merely looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before nodding as though it were insignificant.

“If the long journey does not overtax Your Highness, you may come and go whenever you wish. This marriage was arranged to strengthen the Crown Prince’s position from the beginning, was it not?”

Aila’s expression darkened slightly.

To him, it was purely a political marriage.

To her, it was not.

For a brief moment disappointment welled inside her, but Aila forced herself to smile.

“Thank you for understanding.”

Varkas gave only the slightest nod before returning his attention to inspecting the horse’s teeth.

Swallowing a sigh, Aila placed a hand upon his arm, forcing him to look at her again.

“I know you’re busy, but could you spare a little time for me? There’s something I wanted to give you before we leave.”

The man regarded her with mild curiosity before finally turning toward her fully. He instructed the squire standing nearby to return the inspected horses to the stables, then escorted her toward a quieter area.

Thanks to the maids tactfully falling back, Aila was able to enjoy a walk alone with him.

Resting her hand on his firm arm, she followed the neatly maintained path beside him. As they entered the vast flower garden, a soft breeze gently brushed against their faces.

The garden of the main palace was in full bloom.

Summer flowers in vivid colors blossomed within carefully tended flowerbeds, while emerald leaves flourished upon perfectly manicured hedges.

Aila took in the scenery with melancholy eyes.

This landscape always left wounds upon her heart.

Yet as time passed, the imperial palace overflowing with traces of Senevier had gradually become part of everyday life, while her mother’s garden faded more and more within her memories.

That was what she found unbearable above all else.

“What was it that Your Highness wished to give me?”

Lost in thought, Aila turned to look up at Varkas.

When they were children, he had spent quite a lot of time in the garden Bernadette cultivated. Aila knew that, at least there, his devastated heart had found a small measure of healing.

Suddenly, she became curious.

Did this man miss her mother’s garden as well?

Aila stared at his expressionless face, where not the slightest trace of emotion could be found. Soon, she let out a resigned sigh and pulled a handkerchief from inside her cloak.

“I embroidered the crest of House Siorcan onto it.”

His gaze lowered to the neatly folded cloth.

Suddenly, her mouth went dry.

As though trying to shake off her nervousness, Aila began speaking in an exaggeratedly cheerful tone.

“It’s tradition to give a handkerchief personally embroidered for one’s fiancé before departing on a journey. Though, of course, this is technically a journey we’re taking together...”

“It is an honor to receive such a gift.”

Interrupting her rambling explanation, the man accepted the handkerchief. A faint smile touched his dry lips.

Aila felt her chest swell.

It bruised her pride slightly that she had become someone whose heart trembled ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) over every small gesture this man made, but more than that, she was simply happy that Varkas—who was normally so miserly with emotional expression—had smiled for her.

“I will treasure it.”

He tied the handkerchief to the hilt of his sword as he spoke.

She smiled shyly.

At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed from somewhere nearby.