Chapter 223
He immediately summoned the chief maid. Before long, a sturdily built middle-aged woman opened the door and stepped inside.
“You called for me, Your Grace?”
Varkas quietly studied her visibly tense face as he filled an empty goblet with wine before finally speaking.
“I would like to know what has happened to Her Highness during this time. In just a few months... she appears to have improved considerably.”
Unable to find the right words, he left the sentence hanging. A complicated expression flickered across the chief maid's face.
She fell silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts before cautiously replying.
“I cannot say exactly what change occurred in Her Highness's heart. Even long after Your Grace departed, she continued refusing meals and remained confined to her bed... Then one day, quite suddenly, she expressed a desire to attend the dawn prayer service held by the Grand Temple.”
Varkas frowned. Remembering the conflict that had once existed between her and the Eastern Church, the decision made no sense whatsoever.
The chief maid herself seemed equally unable to understand it. A crease formed between her brows as she continued.
“From that day onward, it was as though she had become a different person. She grew calm. She began requesting meals on her own, spent her time tending flowers or embroidering to keep herself occupied.”
The hand that had been lifting the wine goblet suddenly froze.
“She embroiders?”
“She has even begun learning to weave cloth in the weaving workshop recently. She is still quite inexperienced, but Her Highness possesses remarkable artistic sense. She has already managed to create distinctive and beautiful patterns. They have received rather favorable evaluations.”
The chief maid spoke calmly.
Varkas stared blankly for a moment before a hollow laugh escaped his lips.
Embroidery was a common pastime among noblewomen, yet she had never once shown the slightest interest in such leisurely pursuits. As for weaving cloth, that was practically backbreaking labor fit for maids.
Perhaps noticing his displeasure, the chief maid hurriedly offered an explanation.
“I was well aware that it was not an activity befitting Her Grace the Grand Duchess... but I simply could not bring myself to stop her. I believed having something to occupy herself with would ultimately be better for Her Highness.”
“She is physically weaker than most people. What if strenuous work damages her health?”
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I do not believe that is something you need concern yourself with. Everyone ensures the work never exceeds what Her Highness can safely endure, and the healer responsible for her care also believes that moving her body is more beneficial for restoring her strength.”
The chief maid's tone became noticeably firmer. She seemed afraid he might forbid the Grand Duchess from entering the weaving workshop.
She emphasized every word as she continued.
“In fact, Her Highness has been steadily regaining her composure. Her relationships with the maids serving within the inner castle have improved tremendously as well. Therefore...”
“I have no intention of interfering with what she chooses to do, so spare me the unnecessary persuasion.”
Varkas cut her off sharply.
Something about the chief maid's attitude—as though he himself were a threat to Talia's newfound peace—left an unpleasant feeling lingering inside him.
He emptied the remaining wine into his goblet before giving a curt nod.
“I've heard everything I wished to know. You may leave.”
The chief maid bowed respectfully before departing with composed, measured steps.
Leaning back in his chair, Varkas gazed out the window. Beyond the steadily darkening sky, black clouds were gathering on the horizon.
Suddenly, an intense bitterness spread through his mouth.
Perhaps my return is no different from storm clouds descending upon her.
The thought crossed his mind as he raised the goblet to his lips.
The fiery liquid slid down his throat, settling heavily in his stomach. Yet no matter how much he drank, intoxication never came.
Resting his head against the back of the chair, he let out a long, weary sigh.
* * *
Just as the chief maid had said, she was living a simple, peaceful life.
The retainers still seemed unable to accept her completely, but at the very least, the hostility of the maids who spent their days around her had visibly softened.
The servants treated her far more comfortably than before, and Talia no longer lashed out without reason.
From time to time, Varkas would catch sight of her in the garden chatting with the maids. It was difficult to believe she was the same woman who had once viewed everyone with suspicion, every word lined with thorns. Now she appeared gentle... almost soft.
What on earth had changed her?
His thoughts naturally drifted toward Edrick Rubon.
He was the sort of man who could become acquainted with anyone without difficulty. Despite being born into an insignificant family, he had blended naturally into the notoriously exclusive Imperial Guard. He had probably used that same effortless friendliness to break through her defenses.
With a bitter look in his eyes, Varkas turned his gaze back toward the garden.
As usual in the afternoon, Talia had come outside for a walk along the garden paths, accompanied by her attendants.
Naturally, Edrick Rubon was among them.
While he chattered away endlessly beside her, she occasionally shot him an irritated glance, clearly finding him tiresome. Yet the man remained completely unfazed, continuing his playful banter without pause.
Whatever amusing story he had begun telling, the maids were covering their mouths as their shoulders trembled with suppressed laughter. Even Talia, whose face had initially remained expressionless, slowly found a faint smile forming at the corners of her lips.
After silently watching the scene for a while, Varkas finally looked away.
His sturdy wooden desk was piled high with official documents and reports awaiting his signature. They seemed to have limited his workload out of consideration for his injuries, but even the reduced amount was substantial.
After carefully reviewing the proposed legal revisions submitted from each region, he stamped them with his seal and handed them to the waiting attendant.
He had just begun drafting the guest list for the engagement ceremony when hurried footsteps echoed outside, followed by an urgent knock.
Without even raising his head, he spoke.
“What is it?”
“I came because there's something I want to ask you, Brother.”
A sharp voice, strained as though struggling to suppress its anger, came through the door.
Varkas merely gestured lightly with his chin, signaling the attendant to let her in.
A moment later, Raina stormed inside, her face twisted with fury as her footsteps pounded against the floor.
“Is it true that you're planning to grant Allen an estate?”
Varkas frowned.
He had recently granted lands to several people, so he could not immediately recall whom she meant. Only after several seconds did he remember that Allen was the name of the young man who would soon become his brother-in-law.
He nodded.
“Yes. There is a castle in the southeastern region suitable for the two of you. It includes a prosperous city that produces considerable tax revenue, as well as a large horse ranch. You will want for nothing there.”
“But I clearly asked for the great manor east of Kalmor!”
His sister marched right up to the desk, protesting loudly.
“That manor was built by Father for me! He promised I could live there after I married...”
“And I am now offering you a dowry worth twice as much.”
Setting the papers in his hand onto the desk, Varkas cut her off in a cold voice.
“What exactly are you dissatisfied with?”
“Don't pretend you're doing this for my sake! You just want to drive me out of Kalmor!”
Swallowing back tears, Raina glared at him.
“You took Father away from me, then you took Lucas away, and now you're trying to take away the home I've lived in my entire life! How could I possibly not resent you?”
“Raina.”
His quiet voice echoed through the room.
Her shoulders stiffened instantly.
Varkas continued in a calm yet chilling tone.
“If I wished, I could marry you off penniless to some elderly noble on the frontier. Considering the disrespect you've shown both me and my wife, it would hardly be surprising if I did.”
The color drained from Raina's face in an instant.
Ignoring her reaction, he continued evenly.
“The only reason I am not casting you out with nothing is because you are a daughter of House Siorcan... and my own blood. So when I choose to show you mercy, learn to accept it with gratitude.”