The Forgotten Field - Chapter 177

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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 177
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Sharp light pierced through the narrow gaps between my eyelids.
Barcas, gazing up at the brilliantly gleaming glass window through half-opened eyes, slowly pushed himself upright.
For a moment, the space I occupied remained unclear. Only after several seconds did I recall that I had returned to Laedgo Castle.
I exhaled a long breath and lowered my feet to the floor. Thanks to the prolonged sleep that had stretched until the sun reached its zenith, my leaden body felt remarkably light. Yet my mind remained shrouded in a thick, oppressive fog.
I rose from the bed, running my fingers haphazardly through my disheveled hair.
Apparently I had thrashed about violently in my sleep, for the formal attire I had worn the previous day lay hopelessly wrinkled. Unfastening the buttons of my creased shirt with one hand, I rang the bell beside the bed to summon the servants.
“Bring me water for washing and fresh clothes.”
A young attendant rushed into the chamber and promptly prepared the Eastern formal robes measured in Imperial fashion, along with bathwater.
I discarded my severely wrinkled garments and immersed myself in water infused with mint leaves.
Having squandered most of the morning, I should have hastened my preparations, yet I found myself reluctant to leave the bath.
Even after washing myself obsessively from head to toe, I lingered until I sensed anxious footsteps shifting nervously beyond the door, finally prompting me to emerge from the water.
“Good morning, Grand Duke.”
As I stepped into the corridor, fully dressed in my formal robes, Baredon, Darian’s nephew, bowed with a taut expression.
“Did you rest well last night? Since your return, you’ve been attending to state affairs without respite, and the fatigue must be considerable. I apologize for bringing this matter before you, but….”
“Get to the point.”
I cut short his verbose preamble and proceeded down the corridor, the young man hurrying after me with an awkward tone.
“I, I apologize. A sacred ceremony is scheduled to take place at the Grand Cathedral at six o’clock this afternoon. To uphold the High Priest’s dignity, this regular thanksgiving service will be held at the Grand Cathedral rather than the Castle Chapel….”
I gazed briefly through the window at the Temple Tower rising prominently within the grounds of Laedgo Castle, then nodded.
“Very well. Have the carriage ready. We depart immediately.”
“What about a meal….”
“Not necessary. Time is pressing if we’re to arrive punctually, so let us make haste.”
“Understood. I shall summon the driver at once.”
The man rushed past me and bounded down the staircase.
It would take at least ten minutes for the carriage to be prepared. In the interim, I decided to handle several matters of state, stopping by my office to hand over the letter I had written the previous day to a messenger, then reviewing urgent documents requiring my signature.
When I set down my pen after signing the final document, a servant sent by Baredon arrived to announce that all preparations were complete.
I handed the documents destined for the Council to my secretary and departed the office.
As I descended the staircase and crossed the hall, the brilliant landscape of the Garden bathed in intense sunlight spread before me. It appeared I would indeed arrive late.
Frowning at the sun already high overhead, I heard a familiar voice from behind me.
“How unusual. You’ve slept in quite late.”
I turned sharply and my eyes widened upon discovering my wife seated near the Pavilion.
Talia rose slowly to her feet and approached me, a massive wolf beast at her side.
“I thought my neck would snap off waiting for you to appear.”
My gaze lingered on her softly pouting crimson lips as I slowly surveyed her attire.
Adorned in a resplendent silk dress favored by Eastern noblewomen, with an intricately wrought metal belt studded with ornaments hanging from her waist, she resembled a pagan goddess.
In that moment, I understood why so many Easterners beheld her and recalled the spirit of the earth.
Feeling inexplicably flushed, I asked stiffly.
“…You were waiting for me?”
She nodded with an unperturbed expression.
“You’re going to the Grand Cathedral? I’m coming with you.”
Barcas furrowed his brow as though he were hearing some incomprehensible foreign tongue.
When he offered no response, the corners of her eyes lifted with displeasure.
“Why? Am I not permitted to attend the consecration ceremony? Isn’t it customary for the Grand Duchess to be present?”
Since when have you concerned yourself with propriety?
Barcas exhaled softly, regarding her with an expression of utter exasperation.
“There is no need to subject yourself to an uncomfortable occasion out of obligation. Did you not mention that you suffered an unpleasant incident at the Grand Cathedral?”
“That’s precisely why I’m going.”
She offered him a spiteful smile.
“I want to see whether that old man dares to deliver his sermons condemning me even with you present.”
Barcas let out a soft chuckle as he studied her face.
It was evident that she wished to use his presence to provoke the High Priest. Though it was clear this would undermine his carefully laid plans to appease the High Priest and resolve the conflict with the Religious Order, Barcas ultimately relented.
“As you wish.”
Relief washed across her features. Only then did he realize she had secretly feared rejection.
“Well then, let us depart at once.”
Talia extended a hand toward him. As he merely stared down at her slender forearm, a somewhat irritable voice reached his ears.
“What are you doing? Offer me your arm.”
Only then did he comprehend that she was requesting an escort. He carefully wrapped his hand around her delicate arm, and she naturally leaned against him. The sweet fragrance that emanated from her sent his already turbulent mind into further disarray.
Why was she behaving this way all of a sudden?
Unable to conceal his agitation, he gazed down at her with bewildered eyes when she urged him forward in an anxious voice.
“Why aren’t we going?”
Barcas studied her face as though probing her intentions, then began to move. The Diaer Wolf, which had been sitting obediently, naturally followed in their wake.
He immediately positioned himself subtly between the beast and her.
“We cannot bring that wolf… Khan with us.”
“I’m aware of that much.”
She replied somewhat curtly, then whispered gently toward the creature wagging its tail.
“Wait here for a moment. I’ll return shortly.”
She then gestured toward the Handmaidens standing at a distance.
“Why aren’t you attending to Khan?”
The moment her command fell, the Handmaidens surrounded the wolf.
Barcas observed the Diaer Wolf’s reaction carefully. Though its eyes gleamed with displeasure at being separated from its master, it displayed no aggression—no bared fangs, no growls.
Still, he instructed the Soldiers to watch the beast carefully for the Handmaidens’ safety, then led her toward the Carriage.
“Hold onto my shoulder.”
Talia obediently grasped his shoulder and carefully climbed into the Carriage. Barcas settled into the seat across from her and signaled the driver.
Soon the Carriage began to traverse the Castle grounds.
He remained nestled against the gently swaying seat, observing his wife intently. She pressed herself against the window as though she had discovered something remarkable, gazing out at the passing scenery.
Though she seemed to be making an effort not to show it, her discomfort at sharing this space with him was palpable. Yet he could not fathom why she insisted on accompanying him.
Had she realized the instability of her position as Grand Duchess and resolved to change her approach?
But until last year, she had shown no attachment whatsoever to the title of Grand Duchess.
Two years ago, had she not even fled the Castle in secret?

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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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