Wrapped in a strange emotion she could not put into words, Talia stared at the city gates gradually drawing nearer.

Soon, she would finally be freed from this agonizing pain.

Not some quack healer too busy watching Gareth's mood, but the Empress Palace's finest magicians would restore her to the flawless state she had once possessed.

Moistening her dry lips, she cautiously lowered her gaze and examined herself.

The body wrapped in a thin cream-colored dress could not be called beautiful even as an empty courtesy.

The crude outline of ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) the thick bandages wrapped from her thighs to her ankles showed hideously through the thin skirt. The burns on her palms had healed cleanly through magic, yet her fingernails remained dark and bruised, stained a deep reddish-black.

The fact that she had practically starved herself throughout the journey only added to her wretched appearance.

Suddenly, anxiety washed over her.

What if everyone laughed when they saw me like this?

The memory of maids cackling that she had only reaped what she had sown made cold sweat bead down her spine.

Talia hurriedly drew the curtain across the carriage window. If someone saw her and snickered that divine punishment had finally struck her down, she did not think she could remain sane.

Pulling the thin linen blanket tangled on the floor over herself, she covered her head completely.

A short while later, she heard the carriage pass through the gates.

Peeking through a gap in the blanket, Talia listened to the countless sounds outside. The clatter of hooves and the booming commands of infantry officers echoed all around her, while the slow funeral march had somehow become even more mournful.

Mixed into it was the murmur of the crowd.

It sounded like thousands of insects buzzing at once.

Feeling her nerves sharpen little by little, Talia pulled the blanket over her head again.

How long had she remained like that?

The carriage, which had been rolling slowly across the cobblestones, finally came to a stop, and the commotion outside intensified. It seemed as though every servant in the Imperial Palace had poured out to greet the procession.

Curled up in a corner of the carriage, she waited for the noise to die down.

She intended to remain hidden here until Gareth and Aila left to pay their respects to the Emperor according to palace protocol. She had no desire to expose her pitiful appearance to the followers who swarmed around the two of them.

Rubbing her throbbing legs, Talia quietly held her breath.

Then, without warning, the carriage door flew open.

A dark shadow invaded the carriage.

Looking up, Talia widened her eyes when she recognized the familiar silhouette standing with the sunlight at its back.

Her nanny clambered awkwardly into the carriage and threw her plump arms around her.

"Oh, my poor young lady. What has happened to you?"

Then she cupped Talia's face in her large hands and looked her over from every angle before tears began streaming down her cheeks.

"How did you become so thin? Being injured wasn't enough? Your face has become half of what it was..."

Talia stared at her blankly for a moment before suddenly twisting her face and throwing her arms around her neck.

Like a young animal burrowing into its mother's embrace, she buried herself against the woman's soft chest.

Her nanny stroked her back gently.

The soothing touch, as though comforting an infant, broke something inside her.

Tears burst forth.

Burying her face in the curly hair scented with cinnamon, Talia sobbed uncontrollably.

"Nanny, I... it hurts so much. It hurts so much I think I'm going to die."

"Don't worry, my lady. Lady Senevier will make you completely well again."

After wiping away the tears on her cheeks, the nanny pointed toward the carriage entrance.

Talia followed her gaze and shrank back when she spotted an unfamiliar man standing there.

A man with the lower half of his face concealed behind white cloth slowly examined her with dark gray eyes rimmed in gold.

The way he looked at her felt as though he were inspecting merchandise.

Instinctively, Talia pressed herself closer to her nanny.

Patting her back soothingly, the older woman spoke in a reassuring tone.

"The moment Lady Senevier heard that you had been injured, she summoned the magicians of House Taren. They'll return you to your former appearance."

Then she firmly removed Talia's hands from her and stepped aside so the magicians could enter.

Watching the approaching shadow, Talia awkwardly retreated.

The wariness that had become second nature immediately raised its head.

"I-I can walk on my own. Stay back."

"On those legs?"

The thin man bending toward her tilted his head.

Humiliation flushed her face.

"I can make it all the way to the Empress Palace without any trouble!"

The man's eyes narrowed above the veil.

A strange sense of dread settled over her.

The man stroked his chin as though considering something.

Then, without warning, he seized her injured leg.

A scream tore from Talia's throat.

The pain was so intense that her vision turned white.

He squeezed her wound so hard that fresh blood seeped through the bandages.

"If we let you walk on a leg like this and the wound bursts open, we're the ones who'll suffer for it. Stop being stubborn."

Talia stared up at him in shock.

The man released her leg and nodded toward another man waiting opposite him.

"You carry her."

The other man immediately bent down and slid an arm beneath her back.

Goosebumps exploded across her skin as though a snake had touched her.

Talia twisted away from him and swung her arm.

"Don't touch me!"

The man she struck in the jaw muttered something incomprehensible in a harsh metallic voice.

The moment she realized it was the language of elves, Talia's body went rigid.

Beneath the hood, she caught sight of abnormally long ears, skin pale as plaster, and whitish hair tinged faintly blue.

Not a half-blood.

Not a quarter-blood.

An Origin Elf.

Knowing very well how inhuman such beings were, Talia felt terror seize her.

The two men exchanged words in their own language before gripping her arms tightly from both sides.

Talia opened her mouth to scream.

At that moment, a cold, damp hand covered her eyes.

All strength drained from her body.

It felt as though every bone and muscle inside her had melted away.

"What a nuisance. Making me waste magic for no reason."

The man removed his hand from her face and muttered under his breath.

Talia stared at him with dilated eyes.

She wanted to demand what he had done to her.

Instead, only ragged wheezing escaped her throat.

Straightening, the man issued an order to the elf seated opposite him.

"She won't be able to move now. Take her to the treatment room."

The man Talia had struck immediately obeyed.

Lifted effortlessly like a sack of grain, Talia turned pleading eyes toward her nanny.

But as always, her nanny remained strangely insensitive to her fear.

"Just endure it a little longer, my lady. Everything will be fine."

Dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve, the nanny hopped down from the carriage.

The man carrying Talia followed after her.

As the brilliant sunlight poured into her eyes, Talia frowned.

After blinking several times, she finally made out the soldiers of the Empress Palace surrounding the carriage.

She scanned them uneasily.

Then, beyond the wall of soldiers, she spotted a familiar Imperial Guard knight shifting restlessly.

As he tried to push past the Empress Palace soldiers and approach her, one of the Taren magicians firmly stopped him.

"Your duty is finished. We will take care of Her Highness. Step aside."

"But I am her guard knight. I should escort—"

"Her Highness has ended up in this state. Doesn't that mean your qualifications have effectively been revoked already?"

The knight fell silent, unable to respond.

Clicking his tongue lightly, the magician shoved him aside with one hand and continued across the chaotic open square crowded with supply wagons.

Talia looked around in confusion.

Before long, among the knights waiting at the entrance to the main palace, she found a glimpse of pale flaxen hair.

For an instant, she almost called his name.

Then she came to her senses and bit down on her tongue.

Varkas would never step forward for her.

In truth, she did not even understand why the impulse to seek his help kept rising inside her.

These were magicians sent by Senevier.

They would not do anything to harm her.

Repeating that to herself, she struggled to suppress her unease.

Then the man carrying her changed direction and began walking straight toward him.

Talia's body tensed as Varkas's face grew steadily closer.