The Forgotten Field - Chapter 121

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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 121
That night, when he returned to the Bedroom, what awaited him was a bed stained with vivid traces of blood.
The moment he confirmed it beneath the bright lamplight, his chest constricted violently, and a bone-deep chill seeped through him.
He wanted to seek her out again and examine her wounds, but the image of her face as she pleaded to be left alone kept his feet rooted in place.
For how long did he stand there, gazing down at the bed grown cold? Suddenly, an impulse to destroy something seized him.
Everything grated against him. That woman who wielded him so carelessly, himself for being swept up in her machinations, and his own body—seized by an uncontrollable heat that refused to subside.
Barcas clenched his teeth. She had always driven him forward with her reckless and foolhardy actions. That night was merely a continuation of the same pattern. He repeated this to himself, yet his sharply heightened nerves showed no sign of returning to their normal state.
“What shall we do about the remaining schedule?”
Just as they approached the Castle Gate, Darian, who had been following silently, suddenly posed the question.
Barcas, roused from his reverie, looked up at the sun tilting beyond the castle tower and furrowed his brow.
Ordinarily, he should have been attending the gathering hosted by the Nobility Alliance by now. However, the major agenda items were surely already concluded. Showing his face belatedly would accomplish nothing but wasting time on pointless posturing.
Having reached his decision swiftly, Barcas immediately changed direction.
“We shall return for the day.”
With that, he sprang lightly into the saddle and urged his horse forward.
By the time he arrived at the Castle, the sky had already begun to tint with a faint violet hue.
Lifting his gaze, Barcas observed thin clouds gathering from the east and narrowed his brow. The thought crossed his mind that rain might fall again. If so, the traces left by the wolves would be washed away entirely, and the subjugation would encounter difficulties.
‘Nothing has gone right lately.’
With a bitter laugh, Barcas leaped lightly from Torque’s back and ascended the stairs.
Upon entering the Main Castle, servants waiting near the entrance removed the breastplate and cloak that enveloped his body.
He brushed aside their cumbersome attentions with a light gesture and proceeded directly across the expansive Hall. At that moment, the figure of a Quarter Dwarf descending the stairs with an armful of clothing caught his eye. The moment she saw him, the woman froze, and Barcas strode forward before her, asking abruptly.
“How has Her Highness been today?”
The woman’s shoulders flinched, and she soon began to chatter nervously.
“During the day, she consumed some fruit and a little mead, and in the evening, she took several spoonfuls of barley porridge infused with medicinal herbs. She also drank a fermented beverage made from goat’s milk as a refreshment. Still, it seems her appetite has improved somewhat, as if her stomach has become better than before. It is all thanks to Your Grace’s attentive care.”
Barcas listened silently to her lengthy explanation before asking in a measured tone.
“How did her mood seem?”
“Her mood was….”
An expression of distress crossed the woman’s face. Barcas observed the garments cradled in the woman’s arms and twisted his lips. Colorful, ornate fabrics lay shredded and rolled into bundles.
It appeared his wife, whose temperament had been twisted by something, had taken her frustration out on objects.
“There is no need to hear the answer.”
“Ah, the young lady has simply become a bit more sensitive. Still, today she did manage to compose herself….”
The woman, who had been hastily defending her mistress, suddenly fell silent and cast her gaze downward awkwardly.
Barcas, waiting for her to continue, realized she had no intention of finishing her sentence properly and resumed his steps with a faint sigh.
Upon reaching the door to the Chamber on the second floor, he saw the evening light streaming through the tall window cast long shadows across the marble floor. His eyes turned toward the staircase leading to the third floor.
For a moment, the thought of seeking her out directly to confirm her condition crossed his mind, but he abandoned it, certain he would be turned away at the door. Since that night, she had kept the door locked and stubbornly refused him.
Barcas rubbed his aching neck and turned his attention back toward his own Bedroom.
Then suddenly, he felt a potent fragrance brush against his nostrils, and his body went rigid.
A strange thrill raced up his spine. Before he could even register it, he had grasped the door handle and wrenched it open violently.
“You returned faster than expected.”
The moment he stepped into the Bedroom, a cool voice reached his ears. His gaze shifted to the bed. A woman in a thin dress of deep blue sat upon white sheets, her voluminous skirts spread about her.
She brushed aside the book resting on her lap and continued speaking with composure.
“I heard you’ve been constantly busy with official duties lately, so I thought you’d return only in the dead of night.”
“…So that’s why you’re here?”
He locked the door behind him almost instinctively as he spoke.
“You thought I wouldn’t be here?”
“If I hadn’t wanted to see you, why would I have been waiting in this empty chamber? What I meant was… I thought I’d have to wait quite some time before you arrived.”
She spoke while worrying her crimson lips between her teeth.
He noticed she was merely feigning composure while trembling with tension, and he crossed his arms before his chest.
The dense fragrance that saturated the chamber seeped into his lungs, and his already heightened nerves grew even sharper.
He steadied his scattering thoughts and regarded her with guarded wariness.
“You waited for me?”
“That’s what I said.”
She snapped irritably, then moistened her parched lips. His gaze lingered there for a moment before he turned his eyes toward the window.
His lower abdomen tightened as his body temperature rose steadily. Irritated at his own restlessness—like a stallion catching the scent of a mare—he asked sharply.
“Why?”
An accusatory tone escaped him unintentionally.
He stepped forward before the Bedroom, looming over her oppressively.
“You’ve been deliberately avoiding me these past few days.”
“That was… I simply needed time.”
Anxiety flickered across his deep blue eyes. A faint blush rose on her pale cheeks and pristine neck, and her scent grew more intense.
He clenched his sweat-dampened fingers tightly and pressed her sharply.
“Time for what?”
She grasped her skirt hem with anxious gestures.
“Time to recover…”
Her voice, wrung out as if squeezed from her throat, instantly tempered his aggression.
Barcas bent forward before her with a grave expression.
“That night, there were bloodstains on the bedding. Was the wound severe?”
“No, I’m fine. I heard it’s just a natural occurrence.”
His relief at her answer was brief before her next words made him stiffen again.
“The wound has healed completely now, and there’s no problem with sharing a bed.”
He fell silent for a moment, gazing down at her face. She continued in a flat tone.
“To conceive a child, we need to be intimate regularly. The Nursemaid said… the more frequently, the better.”
Barcas, who had worn a vacant expression, let out a dry laugh the next moment.
It seemed this woman was determined to treat him thoroughly as nothing more than a breeding stallion.
He picked up the robe placed beside the Bedroom and threw it over her body.
“I’m afraid I’m not particularly inclined. Please leave my chamber.”
“You don’t have any right of refusal, as I’ve told you.”
She straightened her spine and shot him a sharp glare.
“This is an obligation. It’s something you must do regardless of your feelings.”
He twisted his expression.
His mind knew her words were correct. Leaving an heir was undoubtedly his duty.
Despite knowing this truth, the reason he had refrained from demanding her bed until now was because he understood all too well how deeply she abhorred a man’s touch.
As long as Lucas existed as an alternative, there was no reason to burden her body with unnecessary strain.
But if she were to demand it herself, the matter would be entirely different. Had he not harbored a secret hope that one day this woman might come to accept him? If she extended her hand first, there was no reason to refuse.
Yet why did this reluctance gnaw at him?
“You’ll obey my words, won’t you?”
Talia pressed him with the imperious tone of a queen. Yet in her eyes flickered a fear she could not quite conceal.
He spoke with a certain impulsiveness.
“If that is what you desire.”
Shame and relief warred across her face. Barcas, gazing down at her with unwavering intensity, added in a resolute tone.
“However, this time we shall proceed as I wish.”

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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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