The Forgotten Field - Chapter 145

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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 145
Barcas rubbed his temples with his fingertips, as if his head were throbbing, and exhaled another heavy sigh.
“Regardless, you cannot use a separate room.”
With that, he wrapped her snugly in the blanket and rose from the bed.
Talia, who had been pushing against his shoulder in resistance, soon went limp. She had no desire to show him her disheveled state, and her longing to remain close to him was equally strong, so she saw no point in struggling further.
“Have my belongings moved back to my chamber.”
Barcas issued the command to the handmaidens waiting at the doorway and promptly left the room.
Through the gaps in the blanket, Talia peered out at the corridor bathed in lamplight. The servants, having grown accustomed to the sight of Barcas moving through the castle while cradling her, all bowed their heads with composed demeanor.
Barcas passed them with quick strides and descended the staircase in long steps.
At that moment, a familiar voice echoed from beyond the railing.
“Brother!”
Barcas stopped abruptly and looked down toward the bottom of the stairs.
Following his gaze, Talia’s eyes narrowed as she observed two lean men in black robes crossing the vast hall below.
One of them was easily recognizable—Barcas’s presumptuous half-brother.
The boy, who had grown considerably taller in recent months, bounded up the stairs with long strides.
Talia pulled the blanket up to the bridge of her nose and regarded him warily.
After the funeral rites of the previous Grand Duke concluded, Lucas Laedgo Sierkan had formally joined the Wolfram Cavalry and begun his training. Consequently, over the past several months, she had not encountered him even by chance. Since late autumn, when the barbarians began their raids in earnest, most of the Wolfram Cavalry had been stationed outside the castle.
The boy, whose physique had noticeably hardened from his life there, approached within arm’s reach in an instant.
“I apologize for the late hour. I received urgent news that required immediate reporting, so I rushed here from the garrison. It appears the Imperial Palace….”
The boy, speaking hastily, caught sight of her cradled in Barcas’s arms and trailed off ambiguously.
Talia was seized by unease and wrapped her arms around her lower abdomen. The eerie chill she felt whenever breathing the cold air of the Imperial Palace seemed to pierce through her very bones.
Sensing her trembling, Barcas pulled the blanket tighter and spoke in a frigid tone.
“Wait in my study.”
“I have no objection, but it would be better to prepare a separate guest chamber for him. He must be quite exhausted from his long journey.”
“That’s not necessary. I shall wait with the young master as well.”
The man standing behind the boy suddenly interjected and pushed back his hood.
Upon seeing his face, Talia’s eyes widened in shock.
Edrick Rubon.
Among the countless Royal Guard Knights who had passed through her life, this man had been particularly troublesome, and now he stood there with a weary expression.
In that instant, her trembling ceased entirely.
She could not tell whether she was startled at unexpectedly encountering someone she had believed she would never see again, or whether she was startled by the fact that she remembered his name so vividly.
As she stared at him blankly, blinking, the man, sensing her gaze, lowered his head awkwardly.
“It has been a long time, Princess. I hope you have been well….”
“Tell the Steward to prepare a guest chamber. I’ll call for you in an hour—rest until then.”
Barcas cut off his words and turned toward his sleeping chamber. The man scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.
Talia, who had been watching him intently, glanced up at Barcas. He did not seem particularly surprised by his former subordinate’s sudden visit.
Could this have been a planned visit?
Whether aware of her questioning gaze or not, Barcas passed through the corridor in moments and entered the bedroom, speaking as he did.
“I heard it is still before the meal hour. Is there anything you would like to eat?”
“…I haven’t given it much thought.”
“You must eat well, for the child’s sake if nothing else.”
Barcas guided her to the dining table set before the fireplace, his tone carrying a note of gentle admonishment.
Talia reluctantly nodded. For weeks now, the aching in her pelvis and lower back had stolen away the vigorous appetite she once possessed, but the thought that her unborn child might go hungry if she refused to eat compelled her forward with a sense of obligation.
“Then I’ll have just a bowl of chicken soup.”
“You heard her? Prepare it at once.”
Barcas issued the command to the Elderly Attendant waiting by the door in a gruff tone, then walked toward the fireplace and personally tended to the flames.
Rather than dry kindling that would billow smoke, the hearth was filled with fire stones and charcoal, so it took less than a minute for warmth to permeate the chamber.
“How is your throat? I heard you were coughing during the day.”
“Winter always brings dry air—that’s all it is. Besides, shouldn’t you be leaving? You said it was urgent.”
“Think nothing of it. A conversation delayed by an hour or so will cause no difficulties.”
Barcas replied indifferently, poking at the flames with the poker.
Talia studied his face intently, her gaze searching.
Edrick Rubon was a knight of the Imperial Guard. Had he returned to his post without incident, he would likely be attending to either Gareth or Aila by now. Perhaps one of them had sent him.
“You will regret what you’ve done today, Talia Roem Guerta.”
Suddenly, her half-sister’s curse—something she had buried deep in her consciousness—echoed through her mind. Talia’s hands instinctively wrapped around her lower abdomen.
The memory of those hostile, murky green eyes sent an uncontrollable tremor through her body.
As though sensing her anxiety, the child within her began to thrash violently. Startled by the forceful movements, she gasped involuntarily, and Barcas—who had been removing his doublet to hang it on the wall—spun around sharply.
“What is it?”
“The baby suddenly kicked.”
Though she had felt the child move before, never with such force, and the intensity left her somewhat anxious.
As she gazed down at her abdomen with worried eyes, Barcas approached in his thin shirt and bent before her, his voice taking on a serious edge.
“Are you in great pain?”
Talia looked at him as though his concern were absurd.
How much could it possibly hurt when something no larger than a fist was kicking? She had meant to say as much, but the genuine worry in his eyes silenced her.
She wanted Barcas to worry more. She wanted him to think of nothing but her and the child.
“Yes. It hurts terribly. Given how brutally strong it is, I’d say this one takes after you.”
His expression grew even more grave at her exaggerated words.
Barcas knelt on the floor and reached out his arms, then hesitated and withdrew his hands—remembering that she had forbidden him from touching her.
After a moment’s hesitation, Talia seized his wrist and placed his hand upon her swollen belly. She did not wish to expose her distended abdomen, yet she wanted Barcas to feel the child’s presence more vividly.
“Just this once, I’ll let you touch.”
Barcas gazed at her face for a moment, then lowered his eyes to where his hand rested. At that very instant, the child moved with considerable force. A flicker of surprise crossed his features.
Talia spoke with unmistakable triumph.
“Incredibly strong, isn’t it? This one is surely a son. And I’m certain he resembles you greatly.”
She then placed her own palm atop his hand and applied gentle pressure, guiding him to feel the child more distinctly.
She wanted to make it absolutely clear to Barcas.
Within me is your child, bearing your likeness. So no matter what Gareth or Aila say, you cannot yield. Whatever comes, you must stand with us.
The words that circled endlessly in her throat remained unspoken as she caressed the prominent veins and pronounced joints of his hand.
Eleven years ago, when she had watched those hands protectively cradle Aila’s back, she had desperately wished that one day this man would stand by her side.

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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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