The Forgotten Field - Chapter 114

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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 114
A heavy silence descended upon the Banquet Hall.
Talia noticed that everyone within the Hall was watching her reaction, so she curved her lips into a smile.
“Then why are you standing about instead of bringing the guests in at once?”
As she rebuked the Steward with feigned composure, the man standing at the doorway moistened his lips with a tense expression.
“That is… it seems Your Highness must greet the guests in person.”
Talia’s eyes narrowed.
Currently, she held the highest rank in these Eastern Territories. There could be no guest of such standing that she would need to rush out and greet them personally.
Just as she was about to declare this, the man’s trembling voice pierced her eardrums.
“The… the representative of the delegation is… the Empress of the Empire herself.”
Talia’s mouth fell open in shock. Her mind suddenly went blank. Then, hearing the murmuring around her, she snapped back to awareness.
She hurried out of the Banquet Hall. In that moment, she had no time to fear whether her unnatural gait would draw attention.
Talia swept across the vast Hall, her skirts billowing, and rushed outside the building.
In the Castle Courtyard, hundreds of Imperial delegates stood in formation, their banners bearing the Imperial crest. The woman at their head waved her hand with a radiant smile.
“Talia!”
A woman shining brilliantly like the sun crossed the Garden as though walking upon clouds. Her appearance was so fresh and vibrant that one could scarcely believe she was the mother of a nineteen-year-old daughter.
“Have you been well all this time?”
The woman, who had closed the distance in an instant, suddenly pulled her into an embrace with arms as soft as cream. The sweet scent of her skin made her senses reel.
Talia looked up at her with eyes swirling with confusion, anxiety, fear, and longing all at once.
“Mother… why are you here…?”
“Why, to see you, of course.”
Senevir whispered tenderly as she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s cheek.
“I was curious how you were faring, so I begged Cyrus to send me as a delegate. And as always, he could not refuse my stubbornness.”
Then, with delicate fingers carrying the fragrance of roses, she cradled her daughter’s cheeks and gazed quietly at her face.
“Your complexion looks better than when you were at the Imperial Palace. It seems your husband treats you well.”
In an instant, for reasons she could not fathom, a chill ran down her spine. Talia pulled away from her as though burned by fire.
“Really… why did you come here? What scheme are you plotting this time…!”
“Your Majesty.”
At that moment, a voice sharp as frost cut off her words.
Talia turned her head toward the source of the voice. Barcas, draped in a grey fur-lined cloak over a long black cotehardie, was crossing the Garden toward them.
He seemed to have rushed here upon hearing the news during the cathedral assembly. Barcas, carrying the heavy scent of incense, subtly positioned himself between Senevir and Talia, then bowed.
“Thank you for traveling so far to visit us.”
“How courteous, Grand Duke Sierkan.”
Eyes as deep and murky as a swamp traced slowly over the youth’s form, carved with the precision of marble. A peculiar smile bloomed across her lips.
“Before I depart this world, I am grateful to have witnessed my son grown so splendidly. Your father would have had no regrets either.”
At her tone, which seemed to address a small child, a faint sneer crossed Barcas’s lips.
He replied in his characteristic monotone voice.
“I am overwhelmed by such generous words.”
“You remain as humble as ever. Many at the Imperial Palace long for you.”
Senevir, releasing a gentle laugh, cast a meaningful glance toward Talia as she added her words.
“In particular, the Crown Prince and the First Princess seem to feel your absence keenly. And rightfully so—the three of you were unusually close.”
Talia clenched her teeth to suppress any reaction.
Senevir, observing her carefully, turned back to Barcas with a bright smile.
“Now that I think of it, those two asked me to relay a message to you. Could you spare a moment?”
A sharp glint flashed across Barcas’s eyes.
Everyone in the world knew those two would never ask Senevir for anything.
What could she possibly want to discuss with him while telling such an obvious lie?
Nothing but foreboding filled my chest.
Talia seized the hem of Senevir’s dress with trembling hands.
“You said you came to see me, didn’t you? Tell me what you have to say.”
At her hurried words, annoyance flickered across Senevir’s face.
Talia felt the helplessness of a nine-year-old child wash over her in an instant. Like those days when she had stammered under her mother’s coldness, she stood frozen and pale, until a large hand descended upon her shoulder.
“Her Highness is resting in her chamber.”
Barcas, having separated Talia from Senevir, issued orders to the Handmaidens waiting at the door.
“Escort the Grand Duchess at once.”
The Handmaidens rushed forward the moment his command fell.
Talia reluctantly turned away. Then a gentle voice echoed from behind her.
“Let us postpone this long-standing matter between mother and daughter for another time.”
Talia, glaring over her shoulder, soon moved her feet.
Senevir, who had lingered in Barcas’s Office for some time, finally came to find her as the sun began to set.
Talia, who had been pacing the chamber, immediately rushed to the door. But the Nursemaid was faster.
The Nursemaid, who had dashed out frantically, grasped the hem of Senevir’s skirt and shed tears like dewdrops.
“Your Majesty! To see you again so soon… I could die without regret now!”
“My, why speak of dying?”
Senevir naturally separated herself from the Nursemaid and scattered a girlish laugh.
“You must live long. How could I rest easy without the Nursemaid by Talia’s side?”
The Nursemaid gazed up at Senevir with an overwhelmed expression.
Talia, regarding the scene with disgust, pulled her mother’s arm with an impatient hand.
“Can you spare some time for me now?”
At her bitter question, Senevir’s eyes curved.
“Of course. I came here precisely to speak with you.”
She then gave a knowing glance to the Knights of House Sierkan who followed like sentries.
“I wish to speak with my daughter in quiet. Would you mind stepping away for a moment?”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. For the safety of you both, I cannot comply with that request.”
Tyron El Drakan bowed his head and politely declined.
The Empress, regarding the Knight who defied her with interest, gave a light shrug.
“It seems we cannot be alone after all. Shall we take a walk instead?”
Talia, her expression guarded, picked up her coat and left the chamber.
Throughout the corridor and into the Garden, countless eyes followed them.
It seemed everyone in the Castle had entered a state of alert upon hearing that a figure in political opposition to House Sierkan had come to the Eastern Territories of her own accord.
Yet Senevir paid no heed to the sharp glares directed her way. She descended the staircase with an air of unshakeable confidence, then glided across the Hall as smoothly as water flowing downstream. Talia limped after her, struggling to keep pace.
My spine was drenched with sweat in mere moments as I fought to match Senevir’s stride. Yet the Empress seemed utterly indifferent to her daughter’s physical discomfort.
Senevir stepped boldly into the Garden, where the sunset shimmered across the sky, and turned to regard the Knights with an innocent expression.
“Surely you won’t mind keeping a small distance, will you?”
When the Knights hesitated to answer, she pressed them with a smile.
“Or have you received orders to eavesdrop on our conversation?”
“…No. We shall wait here.”
Tyron replied with visible reluctance.
Senevir wasted no time and began walking along the path carpeted with fallen leaves. As Talia stumbled along beside her, and once she judged the Knights to be sufficiently distant, she spoke with sudden urgency.
“What exactly did you come here for? Don’t bother lying and saying you came to see me. I know better.”
“I really did come to see you. I wanted to check how you were doing.”
Talia let out a derisive laugh.
On the day I departed for the Eastern Territories, she hadn’t shown her face once. And now she dared speak such nonsense.
Just as I was about to lash out with those words, Senevir leaned close to my ear and whispered as though sharing a secret.
“And I wanted to see if there’s any possibility your husband might return to our side.”
Talia’s eyes widened at the unexpected words.
Senevir gazed down at the rippling water’s surface before continuing calmly.
“It seems Gareth has begun to doubt House Sierkan’s loyalty because of his marriage to you. So he’s been reaching toward the Northern Region to find an alternative force.”
“That means… surely you’re not pushing forward with a new marriage for Aila?”
“Yes. It appears Gareth is hoping the Northern Duke will fill the void your husband left behind.”
A desolate smile played at the corners of Senevir’s lips.
“But whether that marriage will truly come to pass remains uncertain. Your husband is actively working to prevent it.”
Talia’s knuckles turned white as she gripped her skirts with fierce intensity.
Senevir added with cruel precision.
“Thanks to that, the Imperial Palace is now rife with whispers of an unfulfilled love between the First Princess and the young Grand Duke Sierkan.”

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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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