This love is like a curse (69)
The longboat sucked in the cool air, saturated with the smell of rain, through compressed lips and turned his head to look at her.
A shadow of anxiety crossed his eyes, quiet as the predawn darkness.
What's going on behind this icy surface that resembles a frozen lake?
Is he worried about his future, which is confusing and unpredictable? Or perhaps he belatedly regretted his decision?
Despite vowing not to be interested anymore, Thalia wondered again:
You didn't want to marry Isla because you loved her, did you?
I knew it.
You are simply incapable of truly loving anyone.
In fact, you probably don't care who's around.
That's why you could play the caring fiancé for Isla, just as you could play the caring patron for me.
Thalia ran her fingers over her lips, from which Barkas’s touch had not yet disappeared, as if trying to erase his trace.
To him, Talia Roem Girtha was just one of the many responsibilities fate had forced upon him.
So she wasn't going to be fooled by these handouts, this meaningless attention as if he was doing a favor.
She turned her back to him and covered her head with a blanket.
* * *
Somewhere at some point she quietly fell asleep.
The tension that had constrained the body all day melted under the heavy intoxication.
Lying with her arms and legs outstretched, Thalia floated, half asleep, until she felt a chill run down her spine.
Something small and itchy seemed to be biting her knees.
She forced her closed eyelids open. Pitch darkness froze in the dull gaze. The drowsiness that had just weighed down the body instantly evaporated.
Her heart began to beat wildly as she stared in fear into the black darkness. Not a single ray of light. The thick, sticky night seemed to close in around her, squeezing her breath.
Thalia wheezed, gasping for air, and clutched her throat, which was constricting as if from a garrote.
At that same moment, the aching pain in my legs turned into a lightning flash.
She clutched her shin with her hands in panic. Weakened, cramped muscles twitched under his fingers. The pain was as if someone had driven a blade under the skin.
Cold sweat ran down my back.
Clenching her lips until they bled, Talia desperately dug her nails into the cramped muscle, as if wanting to rip out the pain.
And then somewhere nearby there was the sound of flints hitting each other - and suddenly a ray of light streamed into her face.
Thalia raised her head sharply.
A thin candle was burning at the head, and in its trembling light Barkas’s pale face appeared.
He bent over her, looking at her pale face, distorted by pain.
And the next moment he leaned closer.
Without thinking, she screamed:
- Don't touch me!
She forcefully pushed away his hand, which was reaching for her leg, and, crawling away, reached the edge of the bed.
But she didn’t have time to go far - he caught her.
Longboat pressed her by the shoulder, not allowing her to move, and with his other hand he again reached for her shin, covered with nail marks.
Thalia screamed as if boiling oil had been thrown on her:
- Don't touch! Don't touch me!
- Don't move. I just want to examine the wound.
- No! I said no!
She choked on sobs and despair, her body arched in an attempt to escape when he muttered something quietly - the words were incomprehensible, almost inhuman.
He pulled her tightly to him, immobilized her, pressed her so that she could not escape, and extended his hand to the bell at the head of the bed, ringing loudly.
A few moments later, the door swung open and alarmed maids ran into the bedroom.
Longboat commanded loudly:
- Call a healer immediately!
The room was filled with bustle.
The elderly magician ran into the chambers and began to cast a restoration spell, while the maids lit more candles and placed incense on the bedside table with a calming effect.
And all this time, Barkas did not let her out of his arms, squeezing her as if he was afraid to let her go.
Thalia, pressing her forehead against his hot, heaving chest, looked around with frightened eyes.
Every cell of her body tensed: what if someone lifted the hem of her dress and wanted to examine her leg?
She pressed herself down and clutched the hem, as if covering herself with a shield.
She didn’t know how much time had passed.
Finally, the disheveled, out of breath magician held out a glass vial with a blue tint to her face.
“This will relieve the pain almost immediately,” said the magician, holding out the bottle.
Thalia narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
If I drink this, I'll definitely lose consciousness. And while I’m sleeping, someone will definitely want to lift up my hem.
She pressed her lips tightly together and turned away in the other direction.
Immediately, long fingers grabbed her chin and sharply turned her face up. The neck of the glass bottle was pressed to his lips.
Thalia clenched her jaw and did not yield. Longboat, looking at her with an icy expression in his eyes, raised the bottle to his own lips.
Before she even had time to realize what was happening, lips, soaked in the bitter juice of medicinal herbs, closed on her lips.
Thalia's eyes widened.
Longboat, still holding her chin, pressed her cheek with force, opening her mouth, and pushed his tongue into it. The bitter liquid slowly flowed inside.
Thalia grabbed the edge of his thin shirt as if she was going to rip it. She didn't understand at all what was happening. The liquid that accumulated in his mouth burned the mucous membrane, causing it to shrink, wrapping around his tongue.
Their tongues slid against each other, causing a muffled moan to catch in her throat.
Did he give me poison?
My tongue, my throat—everything burned like it was on fire.
- Haa...
The lips, closed together for an unnaturally long time, finally slowly parted.
Talia, having forgotten even about the pain in her leg, looked up at him in confusion. Longboat, looking into her dilated pupils, raised the bottle again and poured the remaining medicine into his mouth in one gulp.
And again their lips met. Thalia dug her nails into his forearm.
His tongue, sliding along her mucous membrane, began to slowly push inside the viscous liquid saturated with the smell of herbs. Her throat involuntarily constricted, swallowing liquid against her will.
Overwhelmed by confusion, shame and a previously unknown sensation, Thalia involuntarily curled her toes. My head began to spin - it seemed that the potion had already begun to take effect.
Warm saliva continued to flow down her throat. Although the bitterness had almost disappeared, he still explored her narrow, wet mouth with a sticky insistence, as if he didn’t want to stop at all.
Talia, overcome with panic, hit his chest, and finally the feeling of soft flesh slowly receded.
Breathing shakily, she looked up at him again.
He, unlike her, all disheveled and excited, remained completely unperturbed. This calm face confused her even more.
Was all this just... not real?
While Thalia hesitated, he ran his thumb over her lips. It wasn't until she heard the wet sound that she realized how wet her lips were.
She hid her face under the blanket in panic. A heavy, wet exhalation was heard just above the top of my head.
“Now go to sleep,” he said, pressing her head to his chest.
She listened to his heartbeat and tried to calm her own breathing.
After some time, the medicine finally dispersed throughout the body. Everything swam before my eyes. She grabbed his clothes with desperate determination: “While I sleep, don’t you dare touch my feet.”
It is unknown whether he heard her muttering, but suddenly he gently ran his palm along her back.
The strength in the body quickly faded, and consciousness faded.
When Thalia opened her eyes, sunlight was already flooding the room.
She stared sleepily at the ceiling, then shuddered, perceiving someone's presence.
Longboat stood at the window and changed clothes. Light streamed through the glass, casting white reflections on his body, like a marble statue. She watched in fascination until his calm gaze met hers.
Thalia immediately cringed.
As if everything that happened at night was just a mirage, Barkas examined her with the same cold detachment as always.