Chapter 220
Varkas fixed him with an icy stare.
Ordinarily, that gaze alone would have been enough to cow the Crown Prince. But this time, Gareth was utterly incapable of restraining his fury. Stomping viciously over the clothes strewn across the floor, he flew into a rage.
“You made me the sacrifice because of that filthy bastard! You betrayed me twice because of that bitch!”
The wine bottle Gareth hurled shattered at Varkas's feet, spraying dark crimson liquid in every direction.
Watching the stain spread across the carpet like splattered blood, Varkas let out a weary sigh.
“How much longer do you intend to behave like a spoiled child?”
For an instant, the Crown Prince's face twisted hideously with humiliation. Staring directly at him, Varkas emphasized every word as though driving nails into wood.
“You are the Crown Prince of this Empire. Taking as your wife the daughter of the house chosen by the Council is an unavoidable duty. If it can calm the people of Valto and strengthen the Empire's unity, then you should willingly—”
“The daughter of the house chosen by the Council?”
A sneer burst from Gareth's lips as he crushed the broken glass beneath his boots and strode forward.
“Ha! You mean the daughter of the family that raised its banner against the Imperial House. Every last one of those northern traitors belongs on the executioner's block, and you expect me to make one of that filthy bloodline my Crown Princess? Don't make me laugh!”
Gareth slammed a hand into Varkas's shoulder, shoving him backward. The pair of green eyes only inches away blazed as though they might spit fire.
“And you think you're qualified to lecture me about duty? You're the one coddling a woman who'll never bear an heir, keeping her in the position of Grand Duchess. How dare you preach to me?”
Varkas's face became completely expressionless, like a mask.
Unaware that Varkas's anger had already reached its breaking point, Gareth continued ranting.
“If you want to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, then throw that woman away first. Abandon Talia Roem Gwirta even now and take Aila as your Grand Duchess instead. Do that, and I'll marry whoever you tell me to.”
Varkas felt the final thread of patience he had been clinging to snap.
Before he even realized it, his hand had shot out and seized the Crown Prince by the collar. Having never been treated so brazenly in his life, Gareth froze stiff, as though his mind had gone blank.
Yanking him forward without mercy, Varkas leaned in and spoke in a voice as cold as ice.
“I'm beginning to grow tired of listening to your whining.”
The Crown Prince's face turned deathly pale with shock.
Looking straight into those wide, stunned eyes, Varkas added in a chilling tone,
“If you truly have no intention of marrying, then do as you please. I, too, am curious to see how His Majesty the Emperor, who is struggling to prevent the Empire from splintering apart, will respond. I'm curious how the North will react after suffering the humiliation of a broken engagement. Whether the other great lords will continue supporting such an irresponsible Crown Prince as the next Emperor. And what schemes the Empress, who is obsessed with placing her own young son upon the throne, will devise this time...”
“...”
“I imagine it will be rather entertaining to watch.”
For the first time, fear flickered across the face that had moments before been overflowing with confidence.
Varkas watched the man grinding his teeth in an attempt to hide it, his own gaze utterly indifferent. Then he released his grip.
He turned and started toward the exit of the command tent.
A hoarse voice, tightened with emotion, stopped him.
“Are you... abandoning me?”
Varkas looked back at him with undisguised disgust.
Superimposed over Gareth's face, twisted with betrayal, was the image of the young boy who had once screamed in grief after losing his mother. His body had grown into that of a man, but his heart remained trapped in those days.
“Our mother saved you! Even your own father threw you away, but our mother took you in and cared for you! She did everything she could to make you into something resembling a human being after you'd already been broken beyond repair...! How can you abandon me and Aila because of the daughter of the filthy whore who drove our mother to her death!”
Varkas slowly closed his eyes before opening them again.
Then, in a voice that did not waver in the slightest, he drew the line.
“I did everything in my power to keep the promise I made to the late Empress. The one who trampled that effort into the ground time and again was you.”
“Bullshit! You care more about that bastard than you do about us—”
“Do not drag her into matters that have nothing to do with her. Talia has done absolutely nothing wrong to any of you.”
The force in his voice made the Crown Prince flinch into silence.
Varkas continued through clenched teeth.
“If what you want is revenge against Senevier, I will assist you however you wish. I can even force that woman to kneel before you with my own hands. But not my wife. She is neither Taren nor Gwirta. She is Siorcan.”
As his tone grew sharper with every word, bloodshot veins rose in the Crown Prince's eyes.
Varkas turned away from the murderous expression on Gareth's face and coldly added,
“If you wish to keep me on your side until the end, then I suggest you accept that fact.”
* * *
Whether Varkas's warning had finally sunk in or not, Gareth departed Jotungar with the main army not long afterward.
Watching the Crown Prince's banners disappear into the distance from atop the watchtower, Varkas soon ordered the camp dismantled.
The tents were immediately struck, and the stakes were pulled from the ground. Preparations for withdrawing to the rear had already been completed weeks ago, so the entire operation proceeded with remarkable speed.
While the soldiers loaded stacks of supply crates onto hundreds of wagons, Varkas made his rounds through the encampment, personally inspecting the remaining stores.
There was enough grain and provisions to sustain the army for several months without difficulty, but they could not take everything with them. A considerable portion had to be handed over to the Northern Noble Alliance, which would soon assume responsibility for defending Jotungar.
After summoning the quartermaster and ordering two-thirds of the total stockpile transferred to the Alliance, he headed toward the central command tent where the commanders of each unit were already assembled.
At that moment, he spotted Daren crossing the camp.
His eyes fell upon the telegram in Daren's hand, and Varkas stopped in his tracks.
He had asked him to keep watch over developments in the East. Had bad news arrived?
Varkas immediately walked over to him.
“What is it this time?”
“Ah, nothing serious. It's only the regular report from the East. I was bringing it to you.”
Holding out the letter bearing the Siorcan seal, Daren reported calmly.
“I looked through it briefly. There don't appear to be any major problems. There was some confusion after news spread that Your Grace had been wounded, but everything has already been settled. However, it seems the vassals have been strongly urging that Young Master Lucas and Lady Raina's marriages be arranged as soon as possible. They likely believe the succession issue has become urgent.”
Taking the parchment and unfolding it, Varkas's brow creased faintly.
Just as Daren had said, most of the report concerned Lucas and Raina's marriage prospects.
“It seems negotiations for Young Master Lucas's marriage are progressing rather slowly, but Lady Raina has apparently chosen her match. She wishes to become engaged to the second son of House Skart.”
House Skart had long been one of the distinguished eastern noble families that had faithfully served the Grand Ducal House for generations.
Varkas rapidly turned the pages and gave a slight nod.
“She chose an appropriate match. Send word that I approve.”
“The vassals are hoping that Your Grace will personally officiate the ceremony.”
Varkas glanced up from the letter.
Speaking persuasively, Daren continued,
“This is already the second time Your Grace has nearly lost your life. Wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to show the eastern nobility that you remain alive and well?”
Varkas lowered his gaze to the final page of the report.
There were only a few short lines concerning her.
He silently read the indifferent sentence stating that she had caused no trouble and was quietly going about her days.
Then, without another word, he slowly crumpled the parchment in his hand.