The Forgotten Field - Chapter 130

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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 130
Barcas traced his thumb across her lips, leaning his sharp nose against her temple.
“I’ll keep the chamber dark that night.”
Talia, her shoulder resting against his broad chest, rolled her eyes slowly before nodding in agreement.
He grasped her chin and held her gaze steady.
Just as an inexplicable shame threatened to make her flee, Barcas lowered his lips again—this time with a touch as light as a bird brushing its beak.
That feather-soft contact crumbled something deep within her heart. Talia squeezed her eyes shut as if to deny the truth of it.
* * *
After that day, Talia began staying in his sleeping chamber as naturally as though it were expected, using the pretext of monitoring the unreliable Healer.
Yet even after the treatment ended, she did not leave the room.
She would feign reluctance to his requests for medicine, dawdle about, and eventually fall asleep in his bed—a transformation that had occurred in merely a month since she’d made such a fuss about returning to her own chamber, swearing she’d rather die.
Though she despised herself for it, Talia rationalized her behavior with every excuse she could muster.
This was only a temporary change.
Because he was injured, and because she could not bring herself to reject him in his wounded state, she was merely compromising for a time.
Once Barcas had fully recovered, she intended to retreat beyond the boundary she had drawn.
Thus her anger at his neglect of his own health was justified. The slower his recovery, the longer this ambiguous state would persist.
Having stewed all day, Talia launched into criticism the moment Barcas returned to the chamber at a late hour.
“You have no right to lecture me about health.”
Barcas, stepping into the room, gave her a puzzled look.
Talia threw down the book she’d been holding on her lap and jumped from his bed, raising her voice.
“You’re working like an ox with that body! You had a fever of eight degrees this morning—”
“My body was fine.”
Barcas replied flatly as he removed his coat.
Talia’s eyes narrowed.
“No. It was hotter than usual.”
“If that were the case, it likely wasn’t from fever.”
Talia’s expression grew bewildered for a moment before her face flushed crimson.
She could not fathom how he could say such things without changing his expression at all. It seemed he possessed no concept of shame whatsoever.
Talia spoke through gritted teeth.
“Monster venom is flowing through your body—there’s no way you’re fine. You need proper rest until the poison is neutralized.”
“I’ve actually been finishing my duties earlier than usual lately.”
Barcas replied without inflection, hanging his sword belt on its stand.
Talia let out a hollow laugh.
His schedule, which she’d extracted from the Butler today through persistent questioning, was nearly torturous in its severity. She doubted even the most ascetic monk could live such a life.
Every morning, before dawn broke, Barcas rose from bed and made his way to the Training Grounds. After honing his martial skills, he would proceed to the Military Base to meticulously review each unit’s training status, recruitment progress, and supply management, then process various official documents.
Afterward, he would review petitions from across the Eastern Territories, meet with City Council members to discuss policy, and occasionally attend events hosted by the Grand Cathedral or Nobility Alliance meetings.
It was nearly unbelievable that one person could manage so many tasks simultaneously.
She spoke with some anxiety.
“Even a healthy person would be dead within months if they lived like you do.”
“I’ve been trained since I was eight years old to maintain this schedule. You needn’t worry about becoming a widow on my account.”
At his indifferent response, Talia’s hands clenched into fists. Had he been in any condition to notice, she would have hurled a pillow directly at that impassive face.
“How can you be so certain? Everyone who dies from overwork was just like you—overconfident in their own health—until one day they collapse and never open their eyes again! Mark my words. If you keep living like that, you’ll be joining them soon enough.”
“…Is that concern, or a curse?”
Barcas, who had been unfastening the buttons of his doublet, turned to look at her as though she were being absurd.
Talia offered him a smile as venomous as a hissing cat.
“Which do you think it is?”
Barcas narrowed his eyes slightly, released a soft sigh, and tossed his shirt onto a chair.
When Talia saw his bare form revealed in the lamplight, she drew in a sharp breath without thinking. The fresh bandages she had wrapped around him last night had been completely removed.
She stepped forward and examined his shoulder carefully. Where the wound had been, only the faintest trace remained.
“What happened? You said it would need another day to fully heal.”
“The salve that Healer created worked better than expected. The moment I confirmed the poisoning symptoms had disappeared, I sought treatment from the Priest.”
She swallowed hard, her throat dry.
“Well, that’s good then.”
She stepped back awkwardly, but a gloved finger brushed against her face.
“Are you relieved now?”
Barcas gazed steadily into her eyes as he asked.
A sudden chill ran through her—as though the docile hunting dog she had been toying with at her pleasure had just bitten her throat.
Talia turned her head away sharply, as if to shake off his hand, and replied curtly.
“Yes, there’s no need to worry anymore.”
An awkward silence fell between them.
Talia, who had been staring down at his shadow cast upon the carpet, slowly lifted her gaze. His thoughtful eyes were looking down at her from mere inches away.
He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and asked.
“What would you have me do?”
Talia gripped the hem of her skirt tightly. Her lips felt parched and cracked.
“I….”
She couldn’t understand why she was hesitating now. Hadn’t she been the one urging his recovery so she could have him? Now she should demand what she had planned—to share his bed.
She clenched the fabric of her clothes and moistened her dry lips. Then a soothing voice poured down from above her head.
“If you wish it not, I will wait.”
Yet his large hand wrapped around her waist in a way that made clear he would not permit her to leave the room.
Talia looked up at him with trembling eyes.
If they weren’t going to be intimate, there was no reason for her to remain. So why couldn’t she push this hand away? And why did he seem to want her simply to stay by his side?
As though merely being together, without doing anything at all, would be enough.
Wasn’t that what love was?
In that moment, a feeling close to terror swept across her back. It was as though she stood naked in the center of the Banquet Hall.
She clasped her trembling hands together firmly.
Don’t hope. You mustn’t hope for anything. She repeated this to herself compulsively, her voice emerging strained and tight.
“Extinguish the lights. All of them.”
She would gladly suffocate if it meant she could hide in the darkness right now.
She urged him in an anxious voice.
“Now. This instant.”
“…Are you truly certain about this?”
“Why would I not be?”
Talia spoke with a scornful edge to her voice.
“All I ask of you is this. Nothing else matters to me.”
A subtle expression flickered across his face. She did not wish to know what it meant.
Talia fixed her gaze upon the floor, enduring the blade-sharp silence that stretched between them.
At last, he turned and extinguished the lights throughout the chamber one by one. Yet moonlight poured through the window, bathing the room in its luminous glow.
Talia urged him forward, her voice strained.
“Draw the curtains as well.”
The man approached the window with agonizing slowness, but rather than closing the curtains, he merely gazed up at the brilliantly shining moon in contemplation.
Talia watched his rigid back, seized by an inexplicable dread.
Then, as if struck by a thought, the man who had stood motionless turned and strode back toward her.
Talia stumbled backward in alarm. Barcas extended his arms and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her directly to the bed. She thrashed instinctively against him.
“No! I told you to draw the curtains!”
“I will not see anything you do not wish me to see.”
Barcas whispered the words against her ear as he lowered her onto the bed.
Talia looked up at him with fearful eyes. Bending over her, Barcas drew the blanket around them both.

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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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