Chapter 8
After that day, Talia wandered the back garden every chance she got. But by the time a large elm had been planted where she'd found the dying bird, and the once-shabby garden had filled in with vivid, colorful flowers everywhere, she still hadn't managed to run into him again.
Talia felt a sense of loss, as though she'd found a treasure by chance only to lose it again. If only she hadn't ignored her nurse's call that day...
Her father, who'd promised to come see her, never showed up that evening, and her mother didn't send for her either.
Surrounded by cold, distant attendants, Talia ate a tasteless dinner, filled with regret the entire time.
She should have followed the boy. Somehow, she felt that if she'd begged, he would have given in and taken her along, pretending to be reluctant about it. Lying beneath cold blankets at night, she found herself longing more and more for the large, warm hands that had once wrapped around her.
Maybe he'd just been some illusion born of her loneliness. Right as Talia began to sink into that doubt, the boy appeared before her eyes once again.
No—it would be more accurate to say that Talia was the one who found him.
The seasons had shifted before she knew it, and she'd turned from eight to nine years old. Instead of raindrops, the sky now poured down scorching summer heat.
Walking down the long corridor leading to the Emperor's private chambers, Talia turned her head toward a large arched window, drawn by the sound of a loud, sharp battle cry. In the wide training yard, bleached white under the summer light, a group of squires dressed in black surcoats were swinging wooden practice swords.
Even with nearly thirty trainees present, Talia's gaze was drawn to him as naturally as a moth to a flame.
His faded flax-blond hair shimmered faintly silver under the intense summer sun. It was the first time she'd seen him without his hood, but she recognized him instantly. He was the boy who had appeared out of that early spring rain.
She leaned forward over the windowsill to get a better look at him.
The blue-eyed boy's movements were sharp and economical, standing out unmistakably from the other trainees.
Every time his long, supple limbs moved with elegant, powerful precision, it almost seemed as though she could hear the sound of him cutting through the air.
"Do you know... who that is?"
The elderly attendant escorting her to the Emperor cast an indifferent glance toward the window.
"Those are squires in training to join the Imperial Guard. All of them are the children of prominent noble houses."
He didn't seem to have the faintest curiosity about who exactly she was asking about.
The attendant gave her a disapproving look as she lingered.
"His Majesty is waiting. Let's proceed."
Reluctantly pulling herself away from the window, Talia walked on through the corridor, silent as a tomb. It had been months since she'd come to the imperial palace, and this would be her first meeting with her biological father, yet she felt no particular emotion about it at all.
Even in the past, when she'd glimpsed the Emperor visiting House Taren from a distance, she'd never once thought of him as her father.
The stern-faced man had shown little interest in her, and Talia, for her part, had simply resented the man who stole her mother's affection away from her.
That hadn't changed, even after she'd been formally entered into the imperial family registry.
Stepping into the vast, opulent chamber, Talia eyed the broad-framed man standing with his back to the light, wariness in her gaze.
After a long stretch of silence, the man—seated quietly behind a desk as massive as a fortress wall—finally spoke, his eyes still fixed on the parchment before him.
"From now on, you're to learn the etiquette of the imperial court."
Then he pressed his seal onto the document.
Talia waited for him to lift his head and look at her. But even after a long while, his gaze never once reached her.
She simply couldn't understand it. If this man loved Senevier so passionately, why did he seem so unwilling to even glance at his own daughter, who looked just like her?
The man, scribbling something across the table with his quill pen, continued indifferently.
"I've arranged for several excellent tutors for you. From now on, come to the main palace before noon for your lessons. You'll need to put in your utmost effort to catch up on everything you've fallen behind on."
Her response didn't seem to be necessary. The man waved a hand, dismissing her, and that was how the reunion between father and daughter—the first in a year—came to an end.
Trudging back the way she'd come, Talia searched the yard outside the window for the boy. But training must have already ended, and only the pale white summer light drifted over the empty yard now.
From that day on, every time she went to her lessons, she would sneak glances at him training in the yard.
She loved watching the faint beads of sweat form on his plaster-smooth face, and the faint flush that would rise on his pale cheeks from the intensity of training.
Sometimes, she'd speak to him silently, in her own mind.
You know... what happened to that bird? Did it end up dying after all? Did you bury it somewhere? Or did you set it free once it recovered, and watch it fly far, far away?
She wanted to talk to him up close, looking into his eyes the way she had that day they'd both stood in the rain together. She wanted to check whether that silver crown was still there, inside his eyes.
It was around when that urge became unbearably strong—
She'd pushed her history lesson entirely to the side, staring endlessly out at the training yard, when a dark shadow fell over her from behind.
Talia startled and spun around. Her mother, who hadn't shown her face for two weeks straight, was standing right at the boundary between light and shadow.
It was a face she'd once seen every single day. And yet, for a moment, Talia felt as though her heart had stopped entirely.
Dressed with painstaking care befitting the dignity of an Empress, Senevier looked as though every possible form of human beauty had been gathered together into one being. Even the elf mages who used to frequently visit House Taren had never come close to matching her beauty.
"What were you looking at so intently?"
Senevier asked, gazing down at her daughter.
Talia, who had been staring up at her with a dazed expression, snapped back to her senses and quickly stepped away from the window. For some reason, she felt reluctant to mention the boy.
But Senevier seemed to have instantly figured out exactly what had caught her daughter's attention.
Turning her head toward the window, the Empress looked down at the tall, blond-haired boy and smiled with meaning.
"He's Grand Duke Sirchan's son."
Talia looked up at her mother with a startled expression. She'd guessed he might be the child of some distinguished noble family, but she hadn't expected him to come from a house quite so prominent.
The Empress's deep blue eyes gleamed meaningfully, as though she could see straight through to her daughter's innermost thoughts.
"Do you want him?"
Talia flushed bright red and couldn't manage a single word in response.
Just seeing her daughter's expression seemed to give Senevier all the answer she needed. She laughed, as though thoroughly amused, and bent down to press a kiss to her daughter's cheek.
"If you want him, I could give him to you as a gift."
The whisper sent a chill through her, like the sound of wind blowing through a dark forest deep in the night. Straightening back up, Senevier wore a smile that looked painted onto her deep red lips.
"But nothing comes for free. If you want a reward, you'll need to please your parents first."
Picking up on the faint hint of reproach in her mother's voice, Talia hurriedly snatched up the history book she'd carelessly abandoned on the windowsill. Then she turned and began to run. She could feel Senevier's gaze clinging to the back of her head like a spider's web.
This was the mother she'd longed for every single night. So why was she running away from her now?
She'd planned, when she finally saw her mother, to throw a fit and declare she hated all this studying. She'd meant to unleash all the pent-up resentment and grief she'd been carrying, demanding to know why her mother wouldn't stay by her side.
But Senevier, now standing as Empress of the empire, no longer felt like her mother at all. She seemed to have transformed into something unfamiliar and frightening, something Talia couldn't bring herself to throw a tantrum in front of.
That night, Talia lay awake, tossing and turning long into the late hours.
Even back at House Taren, she hadn't exactly been happy—but at least back then, she'd had Senevier as her ally. Her mother had felt less like a parent and more like a best friend, a comrade-in-arms. Even if the whole world pointed fingers at them, she could bear it as long as the two of them were together.
But now Senevier stood tall as Empress of the empire, and Talia had been left alone in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people.
Talia felt loneliness sink all the way into her bones. She desperately wished someone would be there beside her. She felt like she would give up anything at all, if only someone would wrap her in warm arms and look at her with gentle eyes.
That was why she finally decided—to go meet, in person, the boy she'd only ever watched from a distance.
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