The Forgotten Field - Chapter 117

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

Chapter 117
Talia gazed at the dress held in her hands with cold, indifferent eyes.
“When did you become a procuress?”
At her scornful remark, the Nursemaid’s face contorted hideously.
Talia paid her no mind and descended from the windowsill toward the bed. Yet the Nursemaid did not retreat.
“In truth, neither of you properly consummated the marriage, did you? Do you understand what that means? It means the Grand Duke can petition for an annulment whenever he wishes!”
Talia looked down at the Nursemaid blocking her path with a frigid expression, then abruptly gathered the voluminous skirts of her dress and lifted them.
As she tore away the sweat-soaked garment from her head, twisted legs and a gaunt, unsightly frame were laid bare.
The Nursemaid immediately averted her gaze. Witnessing this, Talia released a hollow laugh.
“You cannot even look at me properly, yet you expect me to throw this hideous body into a man’s arms?”
“…Still, one must make the effort.”
The Nursemaid stammered, her eyes fixed firmly upon the floor.
“The Grand Duke does not seem entirely indifferent to you, does he? When you collapsed, how devoted he was! Despite being consumed with funeral arrangements and succession matters, he ensures your meals and medicine are attended to without fail. Surely he would not refuse if you asked him.”
Talia, who had been releasing deflating sounds of bitter amusement, suddenly wiped all levity from her face.
“So you’re telling me to beg, then.”
“Do not twist my words so. This is for your sake as well. Once a child is born, your position as Grand Duchess will be secured…”
Her patience evaporated in an instant at such transparent words.
Talia swept her hands violently across the table’s surface. Bowls, plates, and ceramics scattered across the floor with sharp, shattering sounds.
Several shards of glass pricked her instep. She paid no heed and seized the candelabra beside the fireplace, hurling it against the wall.
“Get out!”
The Nursemaid shrieked belatedly and scrambled toward the door in panic.
Talia seized the dress the woman had abandoned and tore it violently in both directions. With a ripping sound, the fabric split in two. She cast it aside carelessly and walked to the bed, pulling the blankets over herself.
How long had she remained thus? A cautious knock sounded, followed by a gentle voice.
“Your Highness, I heard you injured your foot. Allow me to tend to your wound.”
Talia offered no response. Taking her silence as consent, the door opened and light footsteps followed.
“I shall examine the injury briefly.”
As the woman pulled back the blanket, blood-soaked feet and legs were revealed. The Healer cast a spell upon them and carefully wrapped the legs in fresh bandages.
“How is the pain?”
“…”
“Should you require a sedative…”
“Did the Empress give you any separate instructions?”
At her abrupt question, the woman fell silent.
Talia regarded the woman’s rigid face intently. After a long hesitation, she confessed.
“…She instructed me to monitor the Grand Duchess’s health with great care.”
“So a child can take root easily?”
At her scornful utterance, the woman’s lips tightened. Talia turned away to face the opposite side, her voice hollow and weary.
“Leave now.”
“Your Highness.”
Then she sensed the woman kneeling beside the bed.
Talia started at the unfamiliar warmth enveloping her hand and turned her head. The Healer gazed at her with earnest brown eyes and spoke.
“Your Highness need not do anything you do not wish to do.”
Talia blinked.
She should have scoffed at such presumptuous meddling. What could a mere Healer possibly understand? She ought to have snapped at her to mind her own affairs and stop spouting nonsense, yet strangely, the words caught in her throat.
“I…”
My tongue writhed of its own accord within my unconsciously parted lips.
I don’t want this.
I don’t want to show Barcas this withered, pitiful body of mine. I’m weary of playing chess piece to my mother’s ambitions. I refuse to suffer any longer for people who will never truly love me.
I desperately swallowed the words that had risen to my throat.
Show weakness, and you will be trampled. I could not bear to be wounded by anyone else.
Talia coldly wrenched her hand free from the Healer’s grasp.
“Stop talking nonsense and summon the Handmaidens.”
The woman, who had been watching her with a contemplative gaze, slowly rose to her feet.
Talia watched the woman retreat, then impulsively asked a question.
“By the way, what did you say your name was?”
The woman’s eyes widened, and she answered in a calm voice.
“My name is Maricen.”
Talia repeated the name to herself, then dismissed the woman with a casual gesture.
Shortly after, Handmaidens came rushing in to tidy the disheveled chamber, and at her direction, they helped her prepare.
Talia selected the most resplendent dress from the dowry sent by the Imperial Palace and braided her hair elegantly, adorning it with pearl ornaments.
After applying crimson dye thickly over her scabbed lips, she retrieved her jewelry box.
Within the velvet case lay a small button engraved with the Roem Knights’ crest, a moonstone of silver-blue hue, a neatly folded handkerchief, and a ruby brooch.
Talia gazed long upon the traces of attachment she had sworn a thousand times to release yet could not abandon, then picked up the brooch and fastened it to her left breast.
Standing before the mirror, the reflection showed a pale woman who had desperately concealed her emaciation.
I asked that woman in the glass:
What are you doing?
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
I stared into my trembling pupils for a moment, then dismissed the Handmaidens and left the chamber. Through the corridor windows, the sky grew progressively darker.
Barcas would not have returned yet.
Since the previous Duke’s death, he had spent nearly all his time away from the castle. He participated in virtually every religious ceremony hosted by the Eastern Sect, and seemed consumed with the endless tasks of soothing the anxious populace and reorganizing the military supplies.
‘On top of everything, he’s taken on Gareth’s messes too. Ten bodies wouldn’t be enough.’
With a bitter smile, I traversed the desolate, frigid corridor and descended the grand staircase.
Upon reaching the entrance to what was now Barcas’s chamber—formerly the Grand Duke’s bedroom—the Attendants stationed at the door widened their eyes in surprise.
Rather than ordering them to open the door, Talia grasped the handle herself and pulled it open.
With a creak, the spacious chamber flooded with lamplight came into view.
Spotting the long shadow stretched across the room, Talia’s spine stiffened. Barcas, dressed in his military uniform, had only recently returned and was unfastening the buttons of his coat.
“…What brings you here?”
The man, who had been slowly appraising her over his shoulder, narrowed the space between his brows as he asked. It was a response that rendered hours of preparation utterly hollow.
Swallowing her disappointment, Talia walked into the chamber and locked the door behind her.
“I came because there’s something I wanted to tell you.”
Barcas, regarding her with an expressionless face, gestured with his chin toward a chair positioned before the fireplace.
“Be seated.”
She moved her stiffened legs and settled into the chair. In the meantime, Barcas, who had removed his coat and hung it on the wall, poured a glass of apple wine and handed it to her.
“I hear your appetite has diminished again lately. Even if I cannot attend to you directly, you must not skip meals and should eat well.”
Talia kept her lips firmly sealed, her gaze fixed downward on the wine glass.
Barcas, who had been watching her with his arms crossed, broke the lengthening silence.
“What is it you wish to say?”
“You….”
Talia looked up at him with helpless eyes.
What should I say? I didn’t even know why I had come to find him.
Submission or resistance? One thing was certain—I stood at a crossroads of choice. And I was prepared to leave that decision in his hands.
Talia steeled her trembling voice.
“Is it true that you are opposing Aila’s marriage?”
As she looked up at him directly, as if spoiling for a fight, the corners of Barcas’s lips twisted slightly.
“Is that why you have not met my eyes these past few days?”
He ran his fingers through the disheveled hair on his forehead and released a dry laugh.
“I opposed it only because of political danger.”
“But there are rumors circulating through the Imperial Palace that you harbor lingering feelings for Aila.”
The more I spoke, the more I felt like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. Shaking off that feeling, I pressed on as if interrogating him.
“You said you would quell the gossip about our marriage. Is spreading such ridiculous rumors your idea of quelling gossip?”
“It was a matter concerning the safety of both of them.”
He spoke with visible exhaustion.
“It was necessary to stop the Crown Prince from taking hasty action. I have a duty to protect those two people.”
As he continued, his tone grew somewhat harsher.
Talia looked up at him with a rigid expression.
After exhaling a long breath, Barcas bent forward before her and added in a considerably gentler tone.
“I intend to propose a better match for the First Princess soon. Once that happens, the rumors will naturally subside.”
Talia, who had been quietly looking down at him, released a hollow laugh.
Did this man even understand what he was saying?
Watching Barcas speak so casually about driving a knife through Aila’s heart while claiming to protect her, I felt despair wash over me with bitter irony.
The Empress had been right. This man was blind when it came to matters of the heart.
For him, emotional concerns were not a consideration. What mattered to Barcas was only the fulfillment of duty.
And the topmost line of that long list of responsibilities was likely the protection of the twins.
I myself, having taken the position of Grand Duchess, may have risen to considerable importance. Yet I could never be his highest priority.
His duty as a servant of the Imperial Family. His duty as the head of a great house. Nothing could supersede those.
“You are… truly, truly a loyal person.”
His eyes narrowed faintly. He seemed to realize it was not praise.
Talia wiped the smile from her face. As my mind grew progressively cold, I saw clearly what I had to do.
When Gareth, now Emperor, demanded my life with the resolve to wage war against the Eastern Territories, Barcas’s choice would be obvious.
The question was whether I could accept that situation willingly.
She pictured her own death in her mind. Her image dying miserably soon became the face of the previous Grand Duke. That man had feared death and what would come after.
What about me?
The answer came swiftly.
I am terrified of death.
So terrified that I had struggled so desperately. I knew well that only I could protect myself.
This time is no different. I must survive through my own strength.
This is not submission to the Empress. I chose to fight because I want to live.
As Talia stacked countless justifications in her mind, she finally lifted her head and met his gaze directly.
“You’re saying you’ve merely fulfilled your duty?”
His cold eyes fixed upon her without the slightest flicker, each word etched into those icy irises as if carved in stone.
“I will demand that you fulfill your duties as my husband as well.”
Cracks finally appeared across his emotionally barren face. Speaking bluntly, as if wedging herself through those fissures:
“Tonight, I will come to your bedchamber.”

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