Chapter 194
He braced himself against the edge of the bed with an arm that felt as heavy as lead.
Just as he tried to push himself upright, a piercing scream shattered the silence.
“Y-Your Grace! You've regained consciousness!”
Turning toward the voice, he saw the head butler rushing into the room with a large kettle in his hands. The man practically threw it onto a nearby shelf before hurrying straight to the bedside.
“Thank the heavens! I was terrified you might never wake up again...!”
Muttering in an emotional voice, the head butler tucked a pillow behind Varkas's back.
Leaning against the headboard, Varkas pressed hard against his burning eyelids, which stung as though filled with shattered glass.
Seeing this, the head butler hastily rang the bell on the bedside table to summon the other servants.
“His Grace is awake! Fetch the physician immediately!”
A flurry of hurried footsteps echoed through the room.
Moments later, several servants entered alongside the attending physician, dressed in priestly robes.
As they crowded around the bed in a fluster, Varkas quietly closed his eyes and waited for the overwhelming weakness weighing upon his entire body to subside.
How much time passed like that?
The priest, who had been channeling divine power into his body, finally let out an exhausted sigh.
“Fortunately, it seems you've completely passed the critical stage. Your wildly unstable mana flow has finally returned to normal.”
Varkas opened his eyes and looked at the priest.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, the priest continued in a grave voice.
“There is no explanation other than the heavens showing you mercy. Throughout history, there have only been a handful of people who survived after ingesting Agor's deadly poison.”
Deadly poison.
Repeating the words silently, Varkas lowered his gaze to the veins bulging across the back of his hand.
Countless questions flooded his frost-clouded mind.
Pushing them aside for the moment, he spoke in a hoarse voice.
“...How long was I unconscious?”
“Your Grace was unconscious for seven... no, today makes exactly eight days.”
Before the priest could answer, a heavy voice sounded from the doorway.
Varkas turned his head.
Beirof, his face worn with exhaustion, strode rapidly across the room.
Stopping beside the bed, he added in a somber tone,
“For the first four days, your condition was so critical that your heart could have stopped at any moment. It is truly a miracle that you've awakened.”
“...What happened to the campaign?”
Ignoring his aide's concern, Varkas asked in an even voice.
Beirof looked at him with a hardened expression before cautiously glancing at everyone surrounding the bed.
“Would you allow us a moment alone?”
“My lord, His Grace has only just regained consciousness after hovering on the brink of death. It would be best to wait until he has fully recovered his strength—”
“That won't be necessary. Leave.”
Varkas cut off the worried priest with a slight nod.
The priest looked at him anxiously.
“If you overexert yourself and your condition worsens again—”
“Don't make me repeat myself.”
Intimidated by the icy force in his voice, the priest hurriedly fell silent.
Before long, everyone—including the priest, the head butler, and the servants—left the room.
Straightening his body despite its crushing weight, Varkas quietly fixed his gaze on Beirof.
Urged on by that silent stare, the man finally spoke.
“The suppression campaign... failed. I sincerely apologize.”
“Explain.”
Varkas's request remained calm, utterly devoid of emotion.
Studying his complexion for a moment, Beirof resumed his report.
“Immediately after Your Grace collapsed, unidentified assailants infiltrated the castle amidst the chaos. They stormed the underground prison, freed the prisoners, and attempted to incite a rebellion within the castle itself. Fortunately, Young Master Lucas rushed over with his men after receiving word, allowing us to suppress the uprising, but...”
“So the expedition never departed.”
Varkas finished the sentence for him.
The man slowly nodded.
“The intruders possessed astonishing skill. They slipped through the encirclement with ease, escaped the castle, and vanished without a trace. Because of that, even the forces waiting in the Armund Forest had to surround the entire Kalmor region and join the search.”
“So... were they captured?”
“...I'm sorry. We searched through the entire night, but they had already disappeared.”
The confession came in a gloomy voice.
A cold, mocking smile tugged at Varkas's lips.
“So in the end... both the infiltrators and the raiders escaped.”
“...I have no excuse. I should have realized sooner that they were merely creating a diversion to buy themselves time...”
“Raise your head. I'm hardly in any position to criticize anyone after allowing myself to be poisoned so pathetically.”
A self-deprecating laugh escaped him.
Watching his expression carefully, Beirof cautiously changed the subject.
“...Do you remember how you came to be poisoned?”
The smile vanished from Varkas's face.
He looked at his aide without expression.
Beirof swallowed dryly before continuing.
“It appears Her Grace the Grand Duchess was secretly working with the heretics. In order to sabotage this campaign, she laced Your Grace's wine with poison—”
“Do you have conclusive evidence?”
Varkas interrupted him flatly.
For an instant, Beirof appeared taken aback.
His face soon hardened.
“There is no doubt whatsoever that Her Grace poisoned the wine.”
“I asked whether you have concrete evidence.”
“Her Highness confessed herself.”
Varkas merely stared at him with eyes as cold as ice.
Apparently frustrated by his unwavering reaction, Beirof raised his voice.
“There's more. Numerous objects bearing the symbols of the Great Spirit Faith were discovered in Her Grace's chambers. She intended to save those heretics by deliberately trying to kill Your Grace!”
A dull explosion echoed inside Varkas's head.
It felt as though part of his brain had burst apart beneath unbearable pressure.
Gripping his forehead with one hand as if to drive away the horrifying sensation, he finally forced a steady voice through his constricted throat.
“Where is she now?”
“She has been imprisoned at the top of the castle tower.”
Beirof answered coldly.
“All the retainers of the Grand Ducal House were demanding she be taken to the execution block immediately. Young Master Lucas barely managed to calm them down. No matter how infamous a villainess she may be for attempting to poison her own husband, she is still the Emperor's daughter. We cannot execute her without a lawful trial.”
Varkas clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white.
A fury with no discernible source churned violently through his chest.
Fixing his bloodshot eyes on his aide, he gave his order in a voice colder than ice.
“Bring her to me. Immediately.”
After studying his expression for a moment, Beirof bowed and left the room.
Not long afterward, armed soldiers escorted Talia into the bedchamber.
Varkas, who had been gazing out at the sky as it darkened into a deep indigo, slowly turned his head.
Despite the height of summer, she looked as though she were freezing to death.
The sight of her, reduced to the appearance of a prisoner, made him draw a deep breath.
Anyone could see she had been treated harshly.
Her radiant golden hair hung in tangled disarray, heavily draping over her slender neck and back.
Her thin silk dress was smeared with dirt and tangled with cobwebs.
As his gaze slowly traveled downward, he noticed a pair of bare feet protruding beneath the hem of her skirt.
Without realizing it, he stopped breathing.
The realization that she was standing there barefoot, like a vagrant, stirred a fierce surge of anger within him.
Suppressing the irrational emotion, he cast a frigid glance toward the soldiers surrounding her.
“Leave us.”
“Your Grace, the Grand Duchess is dangerous. We cannot leave Your Grace alone with her without supervision—”
“So you've started to think I look weak because I've ended up like this.”
A chilling smile spread across Varkas's lips.
The threat hidden within it made every soldier stiffen.
He jerked his chin once, making it clear he would not repeat himself.
In the end, the soldiers bowed and slowly withdrew.
“Then we'll wait outside the door. Please call if anything happens.”
As they filed out and closed the door behind them, Varkas leaned back against the headboard and quietly examined Talia's pale face.
With her head hanging low, he could not make out every detail, but it was obvious she had lost a noticeable amount of weight.
Disgusted with himself for even noticing, he spoke coldly.
“I've been told you confessed to putting poison in my wine.”
Her shoulders trembled violently.
A moment later, the eyes fixed upon the floor slowly lifted.
Meeting those empty eyes, utterly devoid of life, Varkas's expression twisted.