True to his nature of disliking unnecessary attention, he raised a hand to stop the attendant from announcing his name and descended the stairs with elegant, upright poise.
Yet, despite his efforts, all eyes turned to Varkas. Even the Crown Prince's commanding presence seemed dimmed by his arrival.
Talia devoured the sight of him greedily, from head to toe.
As always, he wore the immaculate formal uniform of the Imperial Guard. The only difference from usual was that instead of the Roem knightly order's golden armor beneath his cloak, he now wore a black breastplate emblazoned with the sigil of the Black Horse—signifying his attendance as heir of House Siorcan and fiancé to Aila.
As Talia had expected, Varkas walked straight toward the center of the hall where Gares and Aila sat.
"I pay my respects to Your Highness, the Crown Prince."
He bowed to Gares with perfect measure—neither excessive nor lacking—then turned to Aila, who smiled shyly.
Talia's fingertips trembled. She gripped her wineglass so hard that her knuckles turned white.
When Varkas extended his hand to the "true princess," Aila demurely placed hers in his. A twisting agony gripped Talia's insides.
Don't touch him. Don't you dare touch Varkas.
She longed to shout it, though she had no right. To keep from disgracing herself, she bit her lips until they stung.
"Would it not be better to leave the hall now?"
The man at her side, who had seemed to relish the prospect of trouble, now urged her softly. His words jolted her back to her senses. She had not come here to slink away in humiliation.
Talia steadied her expression, raised her chin, and crossed the hall with regal grace. Those surrounding the Crown Prince, the First Princess, and the eastern nobleman stepped aside, eager for spectacle.
They would not be disappointed.
"Greetings, my esteemed brother… and my beloved sister."
She deliberately ignored Varkas, directing her slow greeting only to Gares and Aila. To meet his gaze head-on felt too dangerous, as though it would snap the last thread of reason she clung to.
Instead, she fixed her eyes solely on Aila's face and spoke with mocking sweetness.
"I'm relieved to see you've recovered your health. Not long ago… you weren't looking so well."
"Thank you for your concern."
Aila's smile was pure warmth, untouched by shadow.
A shiver raced down Talia's spine.
Surely, this woman knew her half-sister had drugged her wine. And yet, her eyes held not the slightest trace of anger. She looked at Talia as one might regard a common object littering the hall—a goblet, a plate, a candlestick. Who would waste wrath on such things?
The serene, almost indifferent composure stirred a surge of regret.
Tsk. I should have given her poison, not an emetic. Even if it meant my execution… even if I burned forever in hellfire…
Compared to this woman, even Gares's naked fury seemed almost human.
"How dare you come here," Gares snarled, leaning close. His gleaming eyes swept her up and down with searing disgust.
"And in such vulgar garb! Did your whore of a mother tell you to seduce my vassals, too?"
"How harsh, brother."
Talia spread her skirts wide in display.
"This dress is the very gown my mother wore the first time she met His Majesty the Emperor. It carries deep meaning."
A hush fell over the hall.
Flames of fury flashed in the Crown Prince's eyes. Sadly, Talia loved playing with fire.
"Our father must have adored this dress. Don't you agree?"
Gares's shoulders lifted as he bristled, on the verge of striking her.
But his clever twin sister would never allow such a scene. With perfect timing, Aila laid a hand upon his arm, restraining him, and turned to her half-sister with a clear, serene smile.
"Yes. It suits you very well."
Her voice carried no malice, only the plain statement of a fact. The calm tone stoked Talia's anger all the more. Perhaps this woman thought even acknowledging the provocations of a worthless bastard child was beneath her dignity.
Aila cast her brother a glance, urging him to remain composed, then stepped to her fiancé's side. Leaning against Varkas with a blissful expression, she said:
"Still, thank you for coming. Today is a very meaningful day for us—especially for me. The more people who celebrate with us, the happier I am."
Her delicate hand rested gently on the arm of the man who stood silently like a shadow.
Talia glared at that hand, wishing to tear it apart. She dared not lift her gaze higher; if she saw Varkas smile at Aila, she would surely lose her mind.
Then Aila spoke again, voice as soft as a feather.
"Our official wedding date has finally been set. At the start of the Season of Winds, I will travel east to join House Siorcan. Before that, of course, we must receive the blessing of the Saints and go on pilgrimage. We must leave before the heat arrives—so today may be the last time I see you."
She feigned a wistful sigh.
"I'm glad we met before I depart the palace. At least we could share a final farewell."
Turning lightly, she rested her shoulder against Varkas's once more and added with warmth:
"Now, enjoy this banquet held for us, to your heart's content."
Her merciful smile made Talia's blood boil.
"Is this truly the last time?" Talia said suddenly. "Then I simply must bless your future, dear sister."
As she stepped forward, the man who had been quietly observing the sisters' silent war reacted instantly, extending his arm protectively before his fiancée. The sight of it sent a red haze across Talia's vision.
Before Varkas could fully block her path, Talia flung her wine, splattering it across Aila's chest.
The dark liquid seeped into the white gown, staining the pearls and flowing down the skirt like blood from a pierced heart.
"I pray every day that you'll soon look just like this."
The hall gasped at her vicious curse.
Even Aila, who had remained unshaken until now, blanched, her face drained of color. Her expression of genuine fear nearly made Talia burst into laughter.
But her triumph was fleeting. A strong hand seized her wrist, yanking her roughly forward.
At last, she had no choice but to face him directly.
A pair of pale blue eyes, cold with searing fury, glared down at her.
read more on brightnovels.com