At his indifferent reply, Talia raised the corners of her eyes.

She couldn't tell whether he was simply brushing her off because arguing was bothersome, or whether he truly didn't care about something as trivial as clothing and was agreeing without a second thought.

After scrutinizing his expressionless face as though dissecting it, Talia eventually let out a weary sigh.

“Sometimes, being around you makes me feel like I'm going to burst.”

Even at her sudden provocation, he showed no particular reaction.

The prolonged silence gradually made her uneasy.

Pulling the blanket up to her chin, Talia turned her back to him.

“Leave already.”

“I'll leave after seeing you take your medicine.”

“I'm not taking it, so leave.”

“I'll leave after you take it and I confirm that you're feeling better.”

“I said I'm not taking it!”

Turning back with an irritated face, she found her gaze caught by pale eyes in which gold flickered faintly.

Dragging a chair beside the bed, he sat down and spoke slowly.

“If you continue being stubborn, I'll make you take it by force if I have to.”

Talia stiffened.

Suddenly, memories of their wedding night stirred her mind.

That confusing memory, which she still couldn't distinguish between dream and reality, replayed vividly in her thoughts.

Was Varkas remembering that night too?

Sweat formed above her upper lip.

Unable to endure the strange tension filling the room, Talia awkwardly changed the subject.

“Did you drink?”

“A little.”

Leaning against the back of the chair, he answered indifferently.

Watching him with guarded eyes, Talia snapped in an even harsher tone than usual.

“If you're drunk, you should wash up and go to sleep. Why are you coming into someone else's room and causing trouble?”

“I didn't drink enough to become drunk. They made such a grand welcome celebration that I merely humored them.”

He answered carelessly before removing the ornaments wrapped around his arm and placing them on a shelf as though they were bothersome.

Staring at him, Talia cautiously asked,

“Didn't anyone complain that I never showed my face?”

“Who would complain to you?”

A frown suddenly appeared between his brows.

“Your Highness holds the highest rank in this castle. There is no one here whose opinion you need to concern yourself with.”

“Who said I was worrying? I was just curious.”

Muttering, Talia glared at him.

It was somewhat absurd hearing such words from the man who had never truly treated her like an Imperial Princess.

Just as she was about to snap back that he should worry about himself first, someone knocked on the door.

“Young Master, I have brought the medicine.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and a petite maid entered the room.

Taking the medicine bottle from her, Varkas immediately sent the maid back outside.

Talia stared nervously at the bottle in his hand.

For some reason, her stomach tightened.

Struggling to swallow with her sore throat, she saw him shake the bottle in front of her.

“Drink it.”

Talia alternated her gaze between the small blue glass bottle and his face.

If she refused, would he kiss her again like that night?

The thought that suddenly surfaced made her heart clench.

Unable to gather herself, she avoided his eyes.

Leaning closer, he asked quietly,

“Are you not going to take it?”

Her face burned.

If she stubbornly refused, she felt as though he would see right through her thoughts.

With trembling hands, she snatched the bottle.

“I-I'll drink it.”

As if to prove a point, she pulled out the cork and poured the concentrated herbal extract into her mouth.

The bitter liquid burned its way down her throat.

Talia's eyes filled with tears as she coughed weakly.

It was the bitterest medicine she had ever tasted.

“What kind of medicine is this?”

“Medicine prepared by the healers of House Siorcan.”

Pouring her a cup of apple wine from the shelf, he handed it to her.

“From now on, the healer here will be responsible for your care.”

Grabbing the cup and hurriedly drinking the sweet liquid, Talia glared at him in disbelief.

“According to whose wishes? I already have my own healer. A high-ranking mage trained by House Taren has taken care of me all this time—”

“That healer does little besides burning sleeping herbs and casting recovery magic. At that rate, your condition will never improve.”

Talia's eyes sharpened.

The healer currently attending her had been personally selected by Senevier.

Did he really think some tribal shaman from the Kan people, who probably knew nothing but ancient techniques, could compare to a mage of House Taren?

Or did he have some other scheme?

Watching him suspiciously, Talia coldly shot back,

“No. I'll receive treatment from the healer Mother assigned to me. How can I trust the people here? Everyone here obviously hates me...”

His expression hardened.

“Why do you think that?”

“You think I'm stupid? House Siorcan supports the Crown Prince. I know perfectly well they won't welcome the woman who pushed Aila aside and married you.”

Talia sneered.

“For all I know, they might try poisoning me.”

“Talia Roem Siorcan.”

His gentle voice scraped chillingly against her ears.

Talia shrank back.

More than the unfamiliar surname attached to her name, the warning contained in his low voice froze her thoughts.

He added stiffly,

“I've decided to tolerate almost all of your complaints if I can. But don't cross the line.”

His cold tone instantly ignited her temper.

She hurled the cup in her hand at him.

“Who asked you to tolerate my complaints?”

Sticky apple wine drenched his chest.

Terrible silence fell over the room.

Exhaling deeply, Varkas slowly rose to his feet.

Startled, Talia scrambled into the corner of the bed.

Watching her quietly, [N O V E L I G H T] Varkas shook his head.

“Why do something that frightens you this much?”

Talia's face reddened with humiliation.

Brushing away the liquid running down his chest, he calmly continued,

“No matter how angry you become, this matter won't change. Starting tomorrow, a new healer will examine your condition.”

“I told you I don't want that!”

Pretending not to hear, he walked toward the bedroom door.

Talia raised her voice at his back.

“You liar! You said I'm the highest person in this castle! Then why do you get to decide everything?”

“Perhaps not everyone else, but you should listen to your husband.”

Stopping by the door, Varkas looked back at her and spoke as though soothing a stubborn child.

“I listen to you well enough, don't I?”

Then, as though making a point, he removed the loose outer robe and draped it over one arm.

Talia stared at him blankly.

Pulling on the doorknob, he calmly added,

“Now go to sleep. It will take several days of proper rest for the fatigue from your journey to fade.”

Coming to her senses too late, Talia threw a pillow at him.

But he had already left.

Looking helplessly at the lump of fabric rolling across the floor, she slowly collapsed onto the bed.

Why was it?

For some reason, it felt as though she, not he, had become the one suffering because of this marriage.

And that thought made her feel unfairly wronged.

* * *

The next morning, Talia awoke feeling considerably refreshed.

Perhaps sleeping nearly the entire day had helped, because her legs hurt less than usual.

Rubbing her stiff eyes, she rose from the bed and gazed at the brilliantly blue sky outside the window before ringing the bell beside the bed.

A short while later, a stern-looking middle-aged woman entered together with a much younger maid.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Forgive us for greeting you so late.”

The older woman spoke first.

“My name is Areta. I oversee the maids of this castle. And this is Brisa. She will serve as Your Highness's personal maid from now on.”

When the woman tugged at the arm of the younger maid, who stood frozen in a daze, the girl named Brisa hurriedly bowed her head.