The Forgotten Field - Chapter 139

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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 139
“Ah… I see.”
I could find nothing else to add to that.
Whether the man sitting casually atop his war horse knew or didn’t know that the lined-up soldiers were staring at me with vacant eyes, he offered a composed nod.
“My apologies for delaying your journey.”
Then, as if nothing had happened, he urged his horse forward.
Tyron felt his strength drain away as he sheathed his sword back into its scabbard.
Darian opened his mouth as if to salvage the awkward atmosphere.
“You’ve heard the news that the Grand Duchess is with child, haven’t you? Since it’s her first pregnancy, the Duke is quite concerned. The Grand Duchess has always been particular about her food and quite selective, you know. That’s why he’s been paying special attention to her meals.”
‘It doesn’t seem like much has changed from before…’
He caught sight of his lord’s retreating figure and swallowed the sarcasm that had risen to his throat.
This was the man who had pierced a massive giant clean through with a spear merely for laying hands on his wife.
When the Grand Duchess had collapsed, what then? He had not only procured all manner of provisions from the Central Region but had even personally attended to her meals like a servant.
Now that she carried his child, it was easy to imagine what excessive fussing lay ahead.
“I have also heard the joyous news that you have been blessed with an heir. My sincere congratulations, Duke.”
The Northern Merchant, who had been following at a distance, suddenly interjected into the conversation. He seemed well aware that his fate rested in the hands of the young Duke.
The man, who had made no effort to hide his displeasure throughout his journey northward, now wore an ingratiating smile and spoke with eager flattery.
“Though modest, our Merchant Guild has also prepared a congratulatory gift. Hearing that the Grand Duchess favors fresh fruits, we have mobilized our entire distribution network to procure freshly harvested produce… though I wonder if it will suit Your Highness’s tastes.”
The Duke, who had just emerged from the forest and was climbing the hill, turned to look back at the merchant over his shoulder. For the first time, something other than indifference flickered across his gaze, which had been as cold as stone.
“I heard you reside in the Northern Region, yet you seem quite knowledgeable about matters here.”
“Merchants’ ears and mouths are swifter than the wind, Your Grace. Word has spread widely among traders that you have been seeking rare fruits for the Grand Duchess.”
“…I hope that information network of yours doesn’t find itself employed in the wrong direction.”
At the subtle threat in his words, the oily sheen on the merchant’s face grew taut with tension. He seemed only now to realize this was not a man who could be swayed by crude bribes or flattery.
The man swallowed hard and averted his eyes with an awkward laugh. Barcas, regarding him with a cold expression, urged his horse forward once more.
Tyron quickened his pace to follow. Before long, the massive city walls surrounding Kalmor came into view beyond the hill.
Darian, approaching the gates, issued orders in a loud voice.
“Zrami have been spotted in the Argand Forest! Dispatch search parties at once and strengthen patrols along all routes in the Northwestern Region!”
As his resonant voice rang out, the Soldiers arrayed atop the city walls scattered with swift efficiency. They appeared to be rushing to inform the Guard Unit.
Barcas, leaving that chaotic scene behind, passed through the castle gate and cut across the city.
At last, the grand city walls surrounding Laedgo Castle filled his vision.
As Tyron stepped within them, he slowly surveyed the castle’s expanse, which he had not seen in nearly a month. Surrounded by the familiar environment, fatigue that he had not yet consciously acknowledged came crashing down upon him.
He dismounted and rubbed his stiff shoulders.
When he had departed for the Northern Region under Barcas’s orders, the specter of war that had been teetering on the brink had subsided beneath the surface. The season of respite had restricted certain supply routes to the north.
Moreover, Barcas’s political pressure on the Conservative Faction had played a significant role. Some of the northern nobles, sensing that circumstances were taking an ominous turn, had begun to distance themselves.
If he could seize control of the northern distribution network in this window of opportunity, even the Heimdal Family would not dare rashly ignite war.
‘Now it all depends on how to bring that man to heel.’
Tyron observed the Merchant Guild leader conferring quietly with his subordinates in one corner of the castle’s inner courtyard, then turned his gaze back to Barcas.
He was handing over the game he had hunted to his servants. At that relaxed demeanor, strength drained from Tyron’s shoulders once more.
It seemed his lord’s mind was far more occupied with what dishes would grace his wife’s table than with the question of whether rebellion would erupt.
The man, removing his soiled gloves, issued meticulous instructions to his servants.
“Select the one with the most tender meat and have it roasted. Clean the rest thoroughly and make them into a stew. Use the spices in moderation.”
“As you command.”
Those who received the five pheasants immediately rushed toward the Kitchen. The way they moved without a hint of hesitation or confusion suggested this was far from the first time he had personally procured provisions.
Surely the primary objective of this reconnaissance mission wasn’t hunting, was it?
I watched Barcas with suspicious eyes, but the man who had turned toward the Main Castle suddenly halted mid-step.
Tyron, following his gaze without thinking, found himself holding his breath.
Near the entrance of the Main Castle, a golden-haired woman draped in silver fur sat before a small Fountain.
The moment I beheld her face, bathed in the pale winter light, my mind went completely blank.
When I first met her, she had emanated an eerie atmosphere. That woman, who had seemed so fragile and unstable as though she might shatter at any moment, now glowed with a languid vitality, radiating a deep crimson luminescence.
Entranced by this surreal sight, the Lord of the Eastern Territories approached her in swift strides.
“Why are you out here?”
The woman’s large eyes, which had been gazing upward as though dreaming with her eyes open, turned toward her husband.
A faint smile bloomed across her face, which had always been frozen in coldness.
“I came out to watch the snow fall.”
“It is not yet the season for snow.”
“No, it scattered a little while ago. If I wait, perhaps more will come.”
“You can see it from inside the Chamber.”
“Staying cooped up in the Bedroom all the time is suffocating. Besides, Maricen said moving around a little is better for me.”
The woman’s brow furrowed slightly, as though she disliked the nagging.
“If you’re going to badger me like this every time I step outside, why did you even give me this fur as a gift?”
“I did not intend for you to wander the Castle in such an unguarded state.”
“What is wrong with how I look?”
Growing increasingly irritated, the woman’s eyes narrowed. With her eyes flushed as though she were running a fever, there was something oddly alluring about her appearance.
Sensing a similar sentiment, a subtle tension flickered across the man’s face, sculpted as though from marble.
Unaware of this, the woman continued to press her point.
“Tell me. Is there something wrong with my appearance?”
The man, whose lips had been drawn tight, exhaled a long breath and removed his outer coat, tossing it to the Servant standing behind him. Then, with careful deliberation, he lifted his wife into his arms.
“Please forgive me if there is an unpleasant odor. Bear with it for just a moment.”
Before she could protest, he took long strides toward the entrance of the Main Castle. Those gathered in the Inner Courtyard watched the scene with expressions of utter astonishment.
And well they might. With their brilliant golden hair, blue eyes, and ivory-white skin, they appeared as beings divorced from the mortal world itself.
“…Truly, what a perfectly matched pair you are.”
The Northern Merchant breathed out in admiration.
Something about those words struck Tyron as odd, and he furrowed his brow.
Certainly, they were as well-suited as a pair of magnificent stallions. It was astounding that these two had been at odds with one another for years.

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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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