Chapter 202
Varkas came to an abrupt halt at the threshold and looked back.
Lucas, his face flushed with emotion, strode toward him and spoke with force.
“If you truly cannot forgive Sister-in-law for betraying you, then follow the vassals' wishes and divorce her. If you're only going to leave her abandoned like this, there's no reason to maintain a marriage that exists in name alone.”
Varkas gave no reply.
Lucas stepped closer, raising his voice.
“Even if you've covered up every accusation against her, the people of the East have already rooted their distrust of Sister-in-law deep in their hearts. They won't openly show their hostility because they're mindful of you, but the vassals will never acknowledge her as their Grand Duchess. It would be far better for Sister-in-law herself if she were simply sent back to the Imperial—”
A muffled groan escaped the lips of the younger brother who had been speaking so confidently.
Gripping Lucas's jaw with brutal force, Varkas spoke as calmly as though they were discussing the weather.
“What do you know about what's best for her that gives you the right to speak so freely?”
The crushing pressure on his jaw forced another stifled groan from Lucas.
Looking down at him with icy eyes, Varkas continued in an even voice.
“Do not overstep your place. My wife's future is my responsibility. It is not your concern.”
“...Then do you intend to keep Sister-in-law isolated like this forever?”
Lucas violently knocked his hand away and shot back.
The corner of Varkas's mouth twisted.
“Why are you so concerned about her circumstances?”
“I just...!”
Lucas suddenly fell silent before he could finish.
Watching his younger relative bite his lip, unable to find an answer, Varkas warned him in a chilling voice.
“I'll take this as well-intentioned advice this once and let it pass. But there won't be a second time. I suggest you stop testing my patience.”
With those words, he turned his back and left the council chamber.
Just then, the eastern wind sweeping over the castle walls lashed harshly across his face.
Drawn by something he could not name, he turned his head.
His gaze settled upon the towering keep rising above the inner wall.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though her faint silhouette stood behind the bedroom window.
Then Lucas's word—
Isolation.
It lingered in his mind with an unpleasant aftertaste.
He turned his head away as though trying to shake it off.
Even if life here brought her nothing but misery, he could not send her back to the Imperial Palace.
It was obvious what kind of fate awaited an illegitimate Imperial Princess cast out from the position of Grand Duchess amid scandal.
The pack of wolves eager to curry favor with the Crown Prince would never leave her in peace.
Gareth, venom already coursing through him, would seize the opportunity to drive her into a corner.
And the Emperor would do what he always did—
Stand by and watch.
As for the Empress...
She would not care in the slightest about her own daughter's safety.
No.
If she merely ignored Talia, that would almost be a blessing.
That woman would only think about how to use her daughter to her own advantage.
Remembering Talia lying beneath the fallen rocks like a lifeless corpse, Varkas slowly clenched his fist.
The Empress had sent her on that pilgrimage without the slightest hesitation, fully aware that her daughter could lose her life.
Never again.
Never again would he leave her beneath the influence of that venomous serpent.
In the end, there was only one conclusion he could reach.
Remaining in the East was what served her best.
On the entire continent of Robiden, Kalmor alone lay beyond the reach of both the Empress and the Crown Prince.
Having cast aside even the smallest hesitation, Varkas headed toward the training grounds.
Just then, a familiar voice called out behind him.
“Your Grace.”
Turning around, Varkas spotted one of his personal aides, Regen, and stopped.
The man hurried over and bowed respectfully.
“The investigation you ordered has been completed. This way, please...”
Speaking cautiously, Regen began walking along the inner wall.
Varkas silently followed.
Only after passing through the castle's rear gate and entering the back courtyard did Regen speak again.
“As Your Grace suspected, we discovered a hidden passage beneath the main castle's underground storeroom. Our detection artifacts indicate that it extends all the way to the edge of Armund Forest.”
Listening in silence, Varkas entered the warehouse connected to the castle.
Descending the stone staircase, he found himself in a dim storage room behind an iron door, stacked high with stored valuables and supplies.
Making his way into the inner vault where precious treasures were kept, he discovered a broad corridor hidden beyond it and examined it closely.
The tunnel stretched straight ahead—
Wide enough for even a giant dire wolf to pass through without difficulty.
“A sophisticated mechanism was concealed within the stone wall,” Regen explained, pointing toward a metal torch bracket mounted beside the entrance.
“The passage only opens if this ornament is pulled in a particular direction.”
Varkas grasped the bracket and pulled it sideways.
Clank.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
The surrounding bricks shifted on their own, and the entrance vanished without leaving the slightest trace.
He rotated the handle back into place.
With the faint clicking of hidden gears, the secret passage slowly revealed itself once more.
“The dwarf who designed this castle certainly enjoyed his tricks.”
Regen nodded in agreement.
“Even the previous Grand Duke was unaware this tunnel existed... It was most likely built in secret by slaves brought here during the Era of the Warring Kingdoms.”
“Were there any other concealed structures?”
“We conducted an exhaustive search using detection artifacts, but nothing else was found.”
After delivering his report in his usual reserved tone, Regen carefully studied Varkas's expression.
“What are your orders?”
Instead of answering, Varkas stared into the darkness of the tunnel.
The existence of a secret passage hidden within the private chamber—a chamber whose key belonged solely to the mistress of the castle—would destroy every painstaking argument he had built to prove her innocence.
He turned toward Regen with cold eyes.
“How many people know about this passage?”
“Only Labomir and myself.”
“You handled it well.”
His praise was delivered in the same emotionless tone.
Then he added coldly,
“Seal this passage immediately. And make certain word of it never leaves this place.”
As though he had expected exactly that order, Regen quietly bowed.
Leaving his subordinate behind, Varkas climbed out of the underground vault without another word.
The wind outside had grown even stronger.
It scattered his pale hair as he emerged from the building.
Running a hand roughly through his bangs, Varkas instinctively glanced toward her residence—
Then silently turned away.
* * *
At dawn the following morning, Varkas mounted his horse before departing for the campaign.
Hundreds of vassals had gathered before the castle gates to see him off.
His gaze slowly swept across the orderly ranks of mounted knights before settling upon his own family.
At the very front stood Lucas—who had argued with him the previous day—and Raina, who had only recently been released after spending days confined to the annex.
As he guided his horse toward them, Raina lowered her eyes awkwardly.
Lucas, on the other hand, behaved as though nothing had happened.
He offered a respectful bow.
“I wish you victory, Brother. Please return safely.”
Varkas answered with nothing more than a slight nod before calmly surveying the training grounds.
She was nowhere to be seen.
A bitter taste spread across his mouth.
He slowly turned his horse away.
A moment later, the gatekeeper sounded a loud trumpet.
The castle gates swung wide.
The knights began their disciplined march.
Riding at the head of the column across the open fields, Varkas reached the middle of a hillside before glancing back.
Bluish dawn light poured over the towering fortress.
Only a single season.
The few brief months that had once filled him with hope—
And the crushing disappointment waiting at their end—
Flashed before his eyes like dying embers.
As though erasing the memory itself, he drove his horse forward.
Then, mocking the part of himself that had dared to believe there might be something else in this empty existence...
...he finally severed even the last lingering trace of regret.
* * *
“I've already sent messages to the lords of the northeastern territories. Should the rebels rise even once, they'll be able to mobilize their available forces immediately and suppress them.”
As they reached the edge of a birch forest where white trunks stood like exposed bones across the plain, Beirof guided his horse closer and spoke cautiously.
Varkas uncorked his waterskin, took a drink, wiped his mouth, and let out a quiet sigh.
“Armed suppression is the last resort. No matter what happens, I will not allow the East to descend into civil war.”
“Do you intend to negotiate with the rebels?”
“We can't afford to waste our strength when we still have to keep the North in check.”
Closing the waterskin and slipping it back into his saddlebag, Varkas replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone.
“If I offer to overlook their crimes in exchange for confiscating their lands and titles, they'll withdraw peacefully. Assuming they aren't fools.”
“They betrayed their liege over a handful of coins. Reason may not work on men like that.”
“Then bloodshed will become unavoidable.”
His answer remained calm.
He urged his horse onward once more.
The journey itself was uneventful.
Perhaps because public order had been thoroughly restored throughout the previous summer, they encountered neither bands of raiders nor even the beast-type monsters or wyvern-class dragonkin that normally ran rampant every autumn.
As a result, in fewer than ten days they emerged from the vast forests and reached a broad, open plateau.
“We'll rest here for a while.”
After Varkas reined in his horse beside a pasture, a squire sounded a horn.
The knights following behind immediately dismounted in perfect order.
Varkas likewise climbed down from Tork and immediately unfolded a map to verify the surrounding terrain.
At that moment—
A horn echoed from beyond the gently rolling ridge.
Turning toward the sound, Varkas narrowed his eyes as thousands of cavalry emerged through the pale morning mist.
Even from that distance, he immediately recognized the banner of the Roem Knights.
“Why is the Imperial Army in the East...?”
Beirof muttered, unable to hide his bewilderment.