The Forgotten Field - Chapter 157

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

Chapter 157
Brisa, who had been glancing at the Grand Duchess sprawled unconscious from the sedative, gave a quiet nod.
The man immediately retrieved his coat from where it hung on the wall and stepped outside. Only then did he feel his constricted breathing ease, and he drew a deep breath—when a rustling sound reached his ears from nearby.
Brisa’s eyes flew open at the noise, and she startled at the sight of the Grand Duchess rising slowly from the bed.
It was unclear how long she had been awake, but the woman fixed her with a lucid gaze for a moment before lowering her legs over the edge of the mattress.
Brisa, her body rigid with tension, hurried to her side.
“Your Highness, you mustn’t rise. You must remain in bed until the medication wears off….”
“Step aside.”
At the cold, authoritative tone, Brisa flinched and retreated.
The Grand Duchess stood barefoot on the floor without even slippers.
Brisa, uncertain what to do and fidgeting nervously, bent down beside the bed to at least fetch her shoes—when she caught sight of the Grand Duchess limping toward the fireplace.
‘…Wasn’t she trying to go outside?’
Bewildered, Brisa hurried after her, worried that the Grand Duchess, with her weakened legs, might stumble into the flames.
“Your Highness, if you’re cold, I’ll prepare hot water at once. Please, sit here for now….”
“Annoying.”
The woman brushed away Brisa’s supporting hand with cold indifference and bent toward the fireplace. She then seized the poker leaning against the grate and pulled out a half-charred bundle of parchment from the flames.
Brisa gasped in alarm, removed her apron, and frantically beat out the sizzling documents.
As the embers finally died down, the Grand Duchess bent and retrieved the parchment.
Brisa watched uneasily as she unfolded the partially blackened documents in both hands and examined them intently.
What was she supposed to do in a situation like this?
She felt she ought to stop her, but couldn’t find the words.
As Brisa stood helplessly wavering, the Grand Duchess, her eyes cold and piercing, scanned the charred parchment before casting it back into the flames.
The fire suddenly blazed fiercely, bathing her gaunt face in crimson light.
Brisa swallowed hard. In the glow of the flames, the woman’s face seemed to burn away entirely.
What could have been written there to provoke such an expression?
As Brisa watched with curious eyes, alternating between her pallid face and the bundle of parchment consumed by fire, the woman suddenly turned and returned to bed.
Brisa hesitantly approached and drew the blanket up over her thin shoulders—when she suddenly noticed tears streaming down her face and held her breath.
Seeing the woman weeping silently, her expression one of utter resignation, Brisa’s heart sank.
Without thinking, Brisa spoke urgently.
“…P-please, Your Highness, take heart. With time….”
She swallowed the words “things will improve,” for they sounded hollow even to her own ears.
The Grand Duchess gave no response to this overstepping consolation.
Brisa, her heart heavy with helplessness, finally turned away, unable to find appropriate words.
* * *
“At this rate, we cannot avoid war.”
Kailias, an elite knight of the Roem Knights, leaned forward against the table and spoke with grave weight.
Barcas, reclining in his chair as he reviewed the report Kailias had brought, let out a cold, bitter laugh.
“Are you saying His Majesty did all this intending to wage war?”
The man, catching the mockery in his voice, flushed and defended the Emperor.
“His Majesty has done everything in his power to mediate the conflict.”
Barcas offered no response.
Interpreting his silence as a denial, the man continued in a somewhat agitated tone.
“Surely Grand Duke Sierkan is well aware of the fervent activities of the Imperial Council members. The conservative faction has no wish to see the current order disrupted. Meanwhile, the hardliners insist on restoring the dignity of the Imperial Family and the authority of the Empire, their voices growing ever more heated. His Majesty has attempted to accommodate both sides.”
“In other words, he has been driven into a situation where he satisfies neither camp.”
The man, his face flushed as if to offer a rebuttal, soon let his shoulders slump and raked his disheveled hair back with a weary hand.
“That is the nature of politics, is it not? Everyone chases their own justifications and pride, while the actual benefits go to the dogs.”
Barcas turned the final page of the report without agreement or denial.
My vision was obscured as though veiled by a hazy mist, making the reading laborious, yet grasping the essence of the contents posed no great difficulty.
The core of the report was unmistakable: the machinations I had undertaken throughout the past winter were on the verge of coming to naught.
Barcas accepted this fact with equanimity and set down the bundle of reports he had been holding onto the desk.
Throughout the past winter, I had mobilized the full network of House Sierkan to individually bring the Northern Alliance members into my fold. It was to isolate the Heimdal Family—at the heart of the rebellion—from within the North itself.
Yet as the Imperial Family launched sweeping countermeasures, Balto began to coalesce once more. The premature military threat had only heightened their sense of internal crisis.
“As the report indicates, the Northern nobles whom Your Excellency had already persuaded have begun to withdraw their support. Those who have not are cowering in fear of being branded as traitors to their people. If matters continue thus, a true rebellion will erupt.”
“Then we must suppress it. What other choice is there?”
Barcas released a weary sigh and rose from his chair, adding his words.
“Tell His Majesty that we must advance on Amasek before the North makes its move. The sooner, the better.”
At this measured response, not only Kailias but all the retainers present in the Conference Hall wore expressions of bewilderment.
The Knight hastily moved to stop Barcas, who was unilaterally ending the conversation.
“I have come to request that you personally negotiate with the Heimdal Family. Some members of the Northern Alliance remain neutral in their stance. If we cooperate with them to pressure the ducal house, we may yet be able to salvage the situation…!”
“That point of no return has already been crossed.”
Barcas spoke with cold finality.
“His Majesty disregarded my counsel and concentrated Imperial forces all the way to Sebron. You are well aware that region is a vital granary of the North. Did he truly expect starving beasts not to bite when threatened with the loss of their sustenance?”
“Your Grace! Show proper respect. Such irreverent speech toward His Majesty the Emperor cannot be…!”
“Each.”
Barcas cut him off coldly.
“I am no longer of the Roem Knights. I am Grand Duke Sierkan. Show proper respect yourself.”
The man’s face drained of all color.
Barcas, who had been watching him in silence, spoke in a measured tone.
“I shall provide you with a chamber. Rest sufficiently, then return with the telegram.”
“What shall the telegram say…?”
“That I intend to dispatch an additional three thousand cavalry to the Berta Plain to aid in suppressing the rebellion… Is there some objection?”
The man rose abruptly from his seat, his face flustered.
“Should war break out, His Majesty will surely wish for Your Excellency the Grand Duke to assume supreme command.”
“Add one more line requesting that he abandon such hopes.”
Barcas added this dryly and stepped toward the entrance of the Conference Hall.
Kailias quickly positioned himself in his path.
“How do you intend to respond to the telegram His Majesty has sent?”
Barcas turned to regard him with a frigid expression.
In my mind, heavy as though filled with water, the fact suddenly surfaced that this man was an ardent follower of Aila Roem Guerta. Now that I thought of it, he had even presumed to question my decision to marry Talia.
This time too, the man seemed to have forgotten his station. With his chin raised high as if determined to hear my answer, he spoke with deliberate precision.
“His Majesty the Emperor said he would readily provide a divorce decree if that is what you wish. He remarked that it was wrong to have forced such an unjust marriage upon you in the first place….”
“So His Majesty the Emperor believes my marriage is some trifle to be discarded at will.”
Even to my ears, his voice carried something deeply unsettling.
The man instinctively retreated a step, as though seized by primal dread. Tracking his movement with his gaze, Barcas continued with deliberate slowness.
“Since you seem so curious, allow me to answer you kindly. I intend to tell His Majesty precisely this.”
Barcas extended his arm behind the man to brace himself against a pillar, then spoke in a low murmur directly before the Knight.
“I am not the sort to cast aside my wife like a worn-out rag as some do, so I humbly beseech His Majesty to refrain from meddling in this disloyal servant’s domestic affairs.”
The Knight’s face drained of all color.
Barcas tapped those pallid cheeks lightly with his palm a few times before asking gently.
“Has your curiosity been satisfied now?”
The man glared at him with a rigid expression, biting his lip as his eyes fell away.
Barcas gazed down at him in silence for a moment, then withdrew from the Conference Hall with unhurried grace.

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