The Forgotten Field - Chapter 111

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 111
“Did you really just compare me to a colt?”
Having resolved to express my displeasure, I sharpened my tone with barbs. Barcas exhaled a shallow sigh in response.
“Please stop making frivolous complaints and finish eating this.”
He returned with a bowl of apricots this time. I glared at the bowl as though it were my mortal enemy before turning my head away.
Barcas gazed down at me silently, then dragged a chair beside the bed and sat. Without hesitation, he picked up a small fruit and began peeling away its delicate skin with a knife.
I stared at him in disbelief as he performed work that only Handmaidens would typically do, and I raised my voice.
“Stop this. Who asked you to attend to my meals? Leave a woman as demanding as me alone and focus on your own duties…!”
As I was still protesting, a soft piece of fruit suddenly entered my mouth, and I contorted my face in displeasure.
The man who had effectively silenced me wiped his juice-dampened fingers on a cloth and spoke with irritating composure.
“If Your Majesty would refrain from skipping meals, I could concentrate on my own responsibilities.”
I widened my eyes while still holding the apricot piece in my mouth.
I wanted to retort that it was none of his concern whether I ate or not, but first I had to swallow what was in my mouth.
Eventually, I bit down on the soft flesh. A refreshing fragrance spread throughout my mouth alongside the sweet juice that made my tongue tingle. It was surprisingly not unpleasant at all.
“Would you care for another?”
The man, who had been watching me eat intently, picked up another fruit.
After a moment of hesitation, I nodded with feigned reluctance.
Barcas immediately began peeling the apricot skin. The way he carefully trimmed the flesh with his small knife resembled an artisan working with precious materials. That unfamiliar sight quickly dispelled my irritation.
I observed him again, as though studying some unknown creature.
Perhaps he felt guilty about forcing medicine into me earlier, for Barcas began attending to my meals with almost obsessive care. At first, it was merely a matter of ensuring I didn’t skip meals, but at some point, he began placing food directly into my mouth. It seemed he had grasped the severity of the situation upon witnessing how little I actually consumed.
“Here, Your Majesty.”
He brought a perfectly peeled apricot piece to my lips and spoke.
I pretended to resist and opened my mouth. The sweet flesh entered along with his firm finger touching the tip of my tongue.
As I flushed and tried to pull my head back hastily, Barcas wrapped his hand around my nape and gently covered my mouth with his other hand. He apparently thought I was about to spit it out.
I narrowed my eyes in exasperation.
Did this man think I was a child throwing a tantrum about food?
“Just this one more. I won’t force you any further.”
Barcas spoke in a coaxing tone. I glared at him with narrowed eyes and mechanically moved my jaw.
Only after swallowing the softened fruit did his hand finally withdraw.
“Would you not take a brief stroll today?”
Barcas, having neatly cleared away even the fruit bowl, suddenly made this suggestion.
I looked back at him in surprise while rinsing my mouth with lukewarm water.
“I can go out?”
“The Healer mentioned that fresh air and sunlight aid in recovery.”
Barcas brought a coat and draped it over my shoulders.
I furrowed my brows.
“I haven’t agreed to go yet.”
“Do you dislike the idea?”
He tilted his head questioningly.
I made a sullen expression before reluctantly lowering my legs from the bed. However, before my feet could touch the floor, my body lifted into the air.
She was startled by how naturally he gathered her into his arms, but the feeling quickly faded. She no longer had the energy to be irritable.
“Are you not cold?”
Barcas asked as he swiftly led her out of the building, drawing a hood over her head.
Talia shook her head. Though the Garden carried the crisp bite of autumn, the sunlight remained warm.
He walked along the narrow path, his footsteps rustling through dried leaves. A few blackbirds that had been pecking at seeds in the withered Flower Bed took flight with a flutter of wings.
Watching the scene unfold, Talia turned her gaze to his face. Pale sunlight transformed his pale golden hair to silver. She recalled the first time Barcas had set foot in her Separate Palace.
Back then, she could never have imagined this man would care for her in such a manner.
Yet, reflecting upon it, Barcas had always been merciful to the weak.
He had cradled a dying bird with care, and taken in a young foal that had grown skeletal from rejecting human touch.
That was not all. He had taken it upon himself to be guardian to Gareth and Aila, who had lost their mother at a tender age, and had even accepted as his wife a woman who had been his enemy, unable to turn away from her broken state.
Had he not suffered abuse at the hands of the High Priests, he might have become quite a gentle man.
Lost in such thoughts, she felt him come to a halt.
Soon enough, she understood why. An autumn rose bloomed in one corner of the drying Flower Bed. Talia looked up at him with surprise.
“Do you like flowers too?”
“I neither like nor dislike them.”
Barcas replied flatly.
Then why.
She closed her mouth before asking. She had belatedly realized he had stopped to show her.
She spoke impulsively.
“Pick that one for me.”
He immediately reached toward the rose stem. Sharp thorns pierced into his fingers. Yet Barcas did not so much as blink.
With an expressionless face, he plucked the rose and scraped away the thorns with his fingertips. Once the stem was clean, he offered it to her. A strange emotion welled up within her.
He was the same man who patiently endured Gareth’s rough treatment, who remained loyal to the Emperor, and who had been an impeccable betrothed to Aila.
And now, he was fulfilling his role as her husband without complaint.
Did this man intend to live his entire life bending to the expectations and demands of those around him?
For the first time, she questioned his existence.
“Will you… do everything I ask of you?”
“If it is within my power.”
Barcas replied indifferently, his expression puzzled.
Talia stared at him, then let her gaze fall to the pale rose.
To him, it meant nothing. Merely an object given in response to a request—a worthless blossom. Yet she would cherish this flower until her dying breath.
In that moment, she could clearly see the nature of what she felt.
It was resignation.
She would never have this long-held love returned by him.
The feverish madness that had consumed her would never afflict him in turn. Yet he would do everything within his power as her husband. Perhaps that was enough.
Perhaps that would have to suffice.
“If it does not please you, I shall pick another.”
Barcas, observing her face, made the offer. He had noticed the shadow that had fallen across her expression.
Talia shook her head.
“This one is fine.”
I cradled the enormous golden rose with utmost care, and he resumed his stride.
Wispy clouds gathered across the bright sky. As the sunlight grew increasingly dim, he turned his steps toward the Main Castle.
Then a thunderous voice rang out from behind.
“Your Grace!”
Talia turned her head and watched Darian hurrying across the Garden, her expression darkening. The gravity etched upon his face was enough to forebode ill tidings.
As she had anticipated, the man who came rushing up spoke in a somber tone.
“It appears you must return to Laedgo Castle at once.”
Sorrow flickered in the man’s eyes. After catching his breath for a moment, he continued with heavy words.
“Your Grace’s father… a telegram has arrived stating that he is in critical condition.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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