This love is like a curse (49)
Thalia's face twisted with anger and she hit him hard on the cheek.
- Disgusting bastard! You won't calm down until you ruin everything for me?!
His blue eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness. But the expression on his face with which he looked at her was still cold. This unshakable, cold-blooded gaze was unbearable.
Thalia raised her hand and ran her nails down his cheek. The longboat, without flinching for a moment, grabbed her wrist and looked around the entire panicked camp.
His icy eyes successively slid over the faces of the pale maids of honor, the confused knights and the woman who, covering her burnt cheek, was quietly sobbing.
A dry sigh escaped his lips.
- Take her to the doctor.
He nodded slightly towards the woman and immediately turned around.
Thalia began to struggle and screamed:
- Who allowed you! This woman is a criminal! She needs to be beheaded right now!
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how people had come running to the noise and were now whispering, watching what was happening. But she had no time for dignity anymore. She shouted to the whole camp:
- Damn bastard! What kind of knight are you after this?!
But Barkas didn’t even blink.
He silently crossed the space between the tents and went inside. Without saying a word, he laid her on a wide bed.
Talia didn’t even immediately realize that he had dragged her into her own bedroom. All her attention was focused on venting her pent-up rage.
-You never protected me! Never! Always allowed me to suffer, brought me to exhaustion! And even now... he wasn’t going to save me, was he? You wanted me to die. That's why he left me there, right? He didn’t come right away, didn’t rush after me! I know everything!
He ignored her cries, pinned her wrist to the bed and released her fingers.
Blood and ichor oozed from the reddened, burnt skin. Longboat winced and took a small glass bottle from the shelf.
Seeing him pour an unfamiliar liquid onto her wound, Thalia squealed:
- No need! Don't touch! Leave me alone!
He silently applied ointment to her burn and began to wrap her hand tightly in a white bandage.
All this time, Thalia hit him on the shoulder with all her might with her free hand, but soon her strength ran out and she went limp.
Longboat looked at her with a dry gaze and slowly stood up.
- I'll bring a sedative.
Thalia hid her face in the pillow, breathing heavily, then slowly raised her eyes to him. He calmly walked over to the shelf on the far wall and began sorting through the bottles.
An image flashed into her memory: his back as he ran towards Ayla. A burning pain covered my head.
Talia said with twisted anger:
“You probably hate to death that I’m still alive, huh?”
His hand froze for a moment, hovering over the shelf.
He stood for a long time without moving, and then turned unnaturally slowly.
Her face seemed to be cleared of all emotions, perfectly aligned - and because of this, something fragile inside her finally broke.
A dead smile appeared on his lips.
- It’s such a shame, isn’t it? Miss the chance to get rid of me like an eyesore.
Tears finally poured out of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. His cold face now seemed blurred, as if in water.
He walked over and leaned towards her. The glass bottle touched her lower lip.
- Have a drink. You will feel better.
- No need.
-...
“I don’t need anything more from you.”
Longboat silently put down the bottle.
At that moment, the light of the lamp died out, and a thick shadow fell on his face.
It didn't matter. She already knew what his expression was: indifferent, as always, or maybe with a hint of fatigue and irritation.
She turned away from him.
He looked at her silently for a long time, then left the tent.
Talia listened to the retreating footsteps, then slowly lowered her hand and felt her leg. It turned out to be as hard as a block of wood.
Cripple.
She hastily banished the word that flashed through her head.
This can't be true. This is just talk from those who hate her.
The palace was full of outstanding healers. And my mother probably knew magicians who even practiced forbidden spells.
They will definitely heal her, no matter the cost.
And then... Then she will proudly show her flawless body to those who laughed at her.
Squeezing her aching knee, Thalia slowly lowered her eyelids.
* * *
The solemn procession that began at the palace turned into an ominous funeral procession.
The retinue of the imperial family changed their scarlet uniforms to black robes, and the knights threw cloaks over their dark-colored armor.
The carts, formerly loaded with expensive wine, silks and jewelry, now carried thirty-four neatly arranged bodies. The musicians, placed at equal intervals, played a funeral march in dull low tones.
Talia listened indifferently to the sounds that were muffled in her carriage, and suddenly felt how the pain that had subsided became worse again. She found the incense burner with difficulty.
Only a handful of ashes remained in the cold brass bowl.
Cursing through her teeth, Talia rose from the pillows with an effort, reached into the drawer under the seat and took out a new sheaf of smoke.
It was woven from dried glacier, evening primrose flowers, mandrake leaves and red wood chips.
Sticking it into the bowl, she lit the fire with a magic crystal, and acrid smoke crawled up, flooding the space.
As a viscous fog began to envelop her brain, Thalia stretched out again under the covers.
From the very beginning of the return journey, she spent almost all of her time under the influence of painkillers.
Immersed in suffocating smoke, she lost track of the days - tomorrow became today, and today turned into yesterday.
Semi-consciously, she noticed how a magician looked in to check on her condition, or a guard brought food - but all of them only touched the surface of her consciousness, without penetrating deeper.
Only one person invariably brought her back to reality - Barkas.
When the door of the stopped carriage opened and his figure appeared in the doorway, Talia barely opened her clouded eyes.
Her crew, which had previously brought up the rear of the procession, was for some reason moved to the beginning of the column and was now closely guarded by the head of the imperial knightly order. Apparently, they decided that she needed to be kept under constant supervision so that she wouldn’t cause any more trouble.
The longboat entered the carriage and bent over her body, spread out like seaweed washed ashore.
Cold fingers brushed away a few sticky strands from my sweaty forehead.
- Do not overuse incense. Otherwise, you will soon develop resilience.
She studied his face like frozen homework.
While he waited for an answer, silence fell between them. Then he sighed softly:
— Today we will stop for the night here.
The sun was already setting, the carriage stopped - of course, they would spend the night here.
But why does he say what is already obvious?
Isn't this the man who was silent even when he should have said something?