This love is like a curse (50)
She remembered the days when she collected every word that fell from his lips like precious stones, turning them over and over again in her memory. Thalia pierced even sharp, blade-like phrases into her heart and, carefully stroking them, tried to comprehend them.
But now... she didn't want pain anymore. She was tired of giving his words and actions special meaning, only to be disappointed later.
She was no longer a stupid girl with a teenage crush. Now Talia understood perfectly well: for him, Talia Roem Girta was nothing.
Trying with all her might not to cling to his strong arms, which were carefully lifting her, she mercilessly cut off the last shoots of stupid hope.
He did this only out of a sense of duty.
Talia had been studying this man for over ten years, picking the pieces apart in her head hundreds of times. She knew how he worked.
Although he hated Talia Roem Girt with all his heart, he nevertheless perceived her as an object for which he was responsible. Although not as important as Gareth or Isla, he is still not someone who can be left to die without regret.
He lived to fulfill the duties assigned to him, and, since he could not fulfill them, he felt guilty. It was quite in his spirit.
- I'll bring you something to eat.
The longboat, who entered the gloomy tent, laid the girl on the bed and said quietly:
Thalia, lost in her thoughts, lowered her eyes and looked at her feet. It seemed that the effect of the medicine was beginning to wear off—a sharp pulse of pain ran from my shins to my thighs.
- No need for food. Just light the incense.
- After eating.
A firm voice sounded right above her head.
Talia narrowed her eyes, trying to give him an angry glare. But he had already turned away and was giving some orders to the servant.
She wanted to throw a pillow at his hated back, but her arms and legs were heavy, like cotton wool soaked in water. In the end, she gave in and buried her face in the blanket that smelled of juniper and mint.
After some time, Longboat returned with a bowl of porridge. Talia reluctantly took the spoon.
The very thought of cramming anything inside myself seemed like torture. But if she doesn’t at least pretend to eat, this insufferable man will never allow her to light the incense.
Gritting her teeth, Thalia forcibly put into her mouth a lump of greenish-swampy mass, generously flavored with some herbs.
- Are you satisfied?
She threw the half-empty bowl onto the table. The longboat, standing over her like an overseer, leaned over and examined the contents, as if checking whether the girl had really eaten.
Thalia added nervously:
- I ate it! What else do you need?!
He peered into her face for a couple of seconds, on which cold sweat had already appeared from pain, and finally ordered the servant to bring the incense burner.
White smoke again clouded her consciousness. The pain gradually subsided, and Talia, limp, spread out on the bed.
She seemed to be immersed in a cold cloud. Even the presence of this annoying man, like a blade in his temple, gradually lost its sharpness.
It is unknown how long she spent in this relaxed state, but an unpleasant shadow suddenly appeared in her blurred vision.
Squinting with effort, Talia peered into the blurry image. Against the background of the sunset, a graceful female silhouette emerged. And only a moment later she realized that it was her virtuous stepsister.
She looked at her face the way one looks at a rare exhibit in a cabinet of trinkets. It seemed that something was irritating her: a barely noticeable crack appeared on her perfect, porcelain-like face.
She suddenly became curious. This woman always maintained her composure, even when Talia tried her best to piss her off. What happened that she turned so white with anger?
“I understand that you feel responsible for everything that happened. But you are my fiancé. And to continue to keep her in your tent is simply... unacceptable...
Ayla's soft voice seeped into her mind like water filling her ears.
Thalia frowned. She was irritated not so much by the meaning of her words as by her voice.
Even when angry, she managed to sound noble.
For Thalia, who needed to release every ounce of emotion to be satisfied, such restraint was unattainable. Perhaps that was why she hated Ayla even more.
The thought that this woman, possessed of virtues that she could not adopt even in her dreams, was her half-sister, was terrifying. If she weren't constantly compared to her, she might hate Ayla a little less.
The First Princess continued to speak:
“If you're worried about leaving her alone, I can take her with me.” Then you won't have to worry about it anymore...
- Would you put a snake and a lynx in the same cage?
A dry voice, saturated with fatigue, abruptly interrupted the princess’s speech.
Thalia turned her gaze to Longboat, who stood with his shoulder leaning against a tent pole. For him, who always maintained impeccable posture, such a pose was extremely unusual. He always carried himself upright, almost in a military manner. Does this mean that he was inside all this time while she inhaled the incense? If so, it was surprising how he could even stand so calmly; she herself had difficulty keeping her eyelids open.
-Are you now... comparing me to some insignificant beast?
Ayla's voice became a little sharper.
Thalia forced her eyes to focus, wanting to see the grimace appear on her sister's face. But the straightened Longboat shielded her with himself, and all she saw was his wide back.
Вскоре в шатре раздался холодный голос:
“If the second princess comes to live in your chambers, isn’t it obvious what will happen next?”
Then he exhaled, barely audible, and added mockingly:
“Or perhaps you want to see with your own eyes how heads will fly off the shoulders of your favorite maids, one after another?”
Ayla fell silent, as if she had nothing to object to.
Thalia stared into space with an unfocused gaze, staring at the figure of a man immersed in deep shadow.
...So he really was watching me. Just so I don't start another prank. That's why he keeps me close.
From the very beginning she had no hope. This means there was nothing to be disappointed about.
But why then is she in pain again?
She closed her eyes in disgust with herself.
As soon as she let go of the last threads of consciousness that were preventing her from switching off, the annoying noise quickly faded away. She seemed to be sinking into the depths of the waters. And with relief I allowed myself to drown in this silence.
* * *
It had been a stifling, sweltering heat for several days.
For those who had to transport dozens of corpses, this became a real curse.
To slow down decomposition, the insides of the dead were filled with cleansing salt and dried herbs, and the outside of the gray skin was covered with myrrh and a special glaze. But every day the strange, fetid smell from the coffins became stronger.
Naturally, the faces of the procession participants were distorted with disgust. Thalia, who was watching this from the window, leaning on the windowsill, suddenly remembered: when they were just leaving the palace, she secretly prayed that this whole path would lead them straight to hell.
Did God hear her prayers?
Or was it a punishment?
She was thoughtfully rubbing her aching knee when the sound of a horn was heard in the distance.
She squinted from the bright sun and peered over the hill. At the foot of the slope, covered with scorching light, rose a gray rampart.
This terrible, hopeless path, which seemed to never end, has finally come to its end.