Chapter 195
“Is that true?”
Looking as though she had just heard a language from some foreign land, Talia stood there in a daze before slowly nodding.
“...It's true.”
A hollow laugh escaped Varkas's lips.
Only after hearing her answer did he realize that, deep down, he had been hoping she would deny it.
It did not matter if it was an obvious lie.
If only she had said, I never did such a thing, he had been fully prepared to believe her.
The moment he confronted that miserable truth, something that had quietly begun to grow inside him shriveled into dust.
He looked at her with eyes in which every emotion had died.
“Did you want me to die?”
At his empty question, faint ripples stirred within her cloudy eyes, dull as faded stained glass.
Still staring at him with her bloodless face, she suddenly began trembling.
“...No. I never... not even once... wished for that.”
A dry chuckle escaped Varkas.
“Then what exactly possessed you to poison me?”
“I didn't know...”
A voice so faint it was barely audible slipped through her cracked lips.
“I didn't know it was poison. I just... thought it was... harmless... something that couldn't hurt anyone...”
The pitiful excuse made Varkas's expression turn cold.
“Then what did you think it was?”
Her shoulders shrank as though struck by a whip.
He waited for her to offer a more convincing explanation.
Instead, only chilling silence answered him.
His blue eyes, soaked in the violet glow of the sunset, slowly lowered to the floor.
Once it became clear she had no intention of speaking further, his voice grew even harsher.
“They found symbols of the heretics in your chambers. The High Priest has even accused you of attending gatherings of the Great Spirit Faith. So tell me honestly. Did you drug me in order to sabotage the suppression campaign?”
She flinched and raised her head.
Her expression clearly showed she could not comprehend what he was saying.
At the same time, she looked as though she had been seized by overwhelming fear.
His voice grew urgent.
“Please... say something.”
“...If I told you it wasn't me... would you be able to believe me?”
she murmured weakly.
“Just believe whatever you want to believe. No matter the reason, it doesn't change the fact that I poisoned you.”
She lowered her head again.
Then, with the calm resignation of a martyr, she quietly added,
“...Whatever punishment you decide on, I'll accept it.”
For an instant, a savage impulse seized him.
He wanted to seize her by the nape of the neck and squeeze the breath from her throat.
He wanted to force himself into those eyes that had already abandoned everything, until she desperately begged for mercy.
His fingertips trembled violently as he struggled to suppress the overwhelming urge.
Gripping the bedsheet so tightly that it wrinkled beneath his hand, he forced out a strained voice.
“Do you even realize what you're saying?”
She remained silent, staring only at the shadow pooled beneath her feet.
At last, Varkas's patience snapped.
He staggered to his feet.
His muscles, weakened beyond reason, twitched with tiny spasms.
His joints felt rusted.
His ravaged organs still burned as though filled with molten lava.
Ignoring every warning his body screamed at him, he slowly walked toward her.
“Do you think this will be brushed aside as lightly as the incident with Aila's wine?”
He seized her shoulders, the words grinding through clenched teeth.
Fear flooded her wide eyes.
Looking directly into them, he enunciated every word.
“Right now, attempted murder isn't your only charge. You're also accused of heresy. Do you even understand what that means?”
Lowering his voice, Varkas continued grimly.
“If you're lucky, you'll spend the rest of your life rotting in prison. If you're unlucky, you'll be sentenced to death. And if a religious tribunal excommunicates you first... your execution will be even crueler. You'll be stripped of every right you possess as a human being and die as something lower than an animal.”
Her face had gone nearly gray.
Still gripping her shoulders tightly, Varkas spoke in a low voice, as though carving the words into her mind.
“So stop talking nonsense about accepting whatever punishment comes. From now on, there's only one thing you're going to say. You'll insist you know nothing. You'll insist this has nothing to do with you. You'll deny it until the very end.”
She looked up at him in utter bewilderment.
Seeing her still half out of her senses made his stomach churn.
He shook her shoulders again.
“Do you understand what I'm saying? You've never attended any gathering of the Great Spirit Faith. Someone else put the poison in my wine. You have absolutely nothing to do with this.”
“B-But...”
She parted her lips, completely confused.
“I... I put something... in your wine. I...”
A pained groan suddenly escaped her lips.
Only then did Varkas realize he had been gripping her shoulders hard enough to crush them.
He immediately let go.
Clenching his fist, he spoke in a restrained voice.
“You said it yourself, didn't you? That you never intended to hurt me...”
She nodded mechanically.
He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again.
“That's enough.”
“I'll bury this.”
“You... believe me?”
she asked in a trembling voice.
Varkas looked down at her through weary eyes.
Since their reunion, she had changed so suddenly.
The sweet words she had whispered echoed once more in his ears.
“You're my husband. What's strange about worrying about you?”
“Actually... I've been worried about you this whole time.”
Had all of it truly been sincere?
Could he honestly believe it without the slightest doubt?
After silently asking himself that question, a bitter smile slowly appeared on his lips.
“Whether I believe you or not isn't what matters.”
Yes.
Even if every word had been an elaborate performance to lower his guard...
What did it matter?
He could never stand by and watch this woman become a prisoner dragged before a tribunal.
Even if she truly were a fanatic who had tried to poison him...
The outcome would not change.
If that was the case...
The truth no longer mattered.
He continued mechanically.
“For now, restoring order takes priority. Until everything settles down, remain confined to your room.”
Then he turned back toward the bed.
The strength was steadily draining from his legs.
As he gripped the bedpost tightly to keep himself from collapsing in disgrace, fingers as cold as ice caught hold of his shirt sleeve.
“I... I don't understand. You don't even believe me, so why are you trying to cover for me? Why...?”
He reflexively shook her hand off.
Talia stared at him blankly.
He froze for an instant, startled by his own reaction.
Then something inside him snapped as he saw the hurt on her face.
Looking down at her with distorted eyes, he found himself unable to suppress the cruel desire to wound her.
“I've always felt as though I owed you.”
His gaze slowly dropped to her legs.
Then he added in an emotionless voice,
“But now... I don't owe you anything anymore.”
Through a vision blurred like a summer mirage, he vaguely saw her face turn deathly pale.
Turning away from it, he reached for the bell cord hanging beside the bed and pulled it.
Almost immediately, the soldiers opened the door and entered.
Without sparing Talia another glance, he gave a slight nod.
“Take her to the chambers on the third floor. The Grand Duchess will remain confined there until further notice.”