The Forgotten Field - Chapter 192

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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 192
Barcas swallowed a quiet sigh.
Ever since that quarrel on the evening in question, she had barricaded herself within her chamber, not so much as showing her face. From childhood, whenever something displeased her, she would lock her door first—there was nothing surprising about it. Given time, her mood would surely improve. Repeating this to himself, he climbed the staircase with heavy steps.
“Bring my meal to the study. Prepare a change of clothes as well.”
“Understood. I shall make the arrangements at once.”
Leaving the Steward’s reply behind, he made directly for the study.
The chamber was already brightly illuminated by candlelight. It seemed even the servants had come to accept his presence here as an ordinary part of their daily routine.
Barcas offered a bitter smile as he peeled away his damp outer garment and cast it into a basket, then settled into the chair positioned by the window. Only then did the fatigue he had not consciously acknowledged come flooding upon him.
He gazed through bleary eyes at the raindrops spattering against the glass pane.
By tomorrow, he would need to drive his horse through that torrential downpour for a good half day. At the end of that journey awaited what amounted to a one-sided slaughter of a battle.
No matter how valiant the Zrami warriors might be, they were ultimately nothing more than a disorganized rabble. Their crude weapons would not so much as scratch the heavy armor of House Sierkan, which concentrated the craftsmanship of dwarven technology. If the enemy’s numbers remained within anticipated bounds, the battle would conclude before dawn broke.
He reached toward the wine glass the servants had placed beforehand and leaned his head against the back of the chair.
Then the sound of the door handle turning shattered the silence.
His brows drew together. A moment of displeasure arose at someone opening the door without permission, but he dismissed it as the careless mistake of an inexperienced servant who had not yet heard news of the master’s return, and spoke without interest.
“You arrive at a fortunate moment. Would you pour me a glass of wine?”
As he lifted the glass without turning his head, he heard the soft patter of footsteps. Recognizing the uneven, unnatural gait that followed, Barcas immediately straightened his languid posture. In that same instant, a sweetness so intense it seemed to melt upon the tongue mingled with the humid air.
He turned his head toward the woman who had drawn near. Talia stood before him in a thin dress that revealed the delicate contours of her slender frame, grasping a large wine bottle in both hands as she leaned toward him.
“You should eat soon, so drink only a little.”
The woman whispered with coy affectation as she poured a modest amount of wine into his glass. Barcas, who had been staring up at her in a daze, belatedly came to his senses and rose from his seat.
“What are you doing here?”
At his questioning tone, her pupils trembled faintly. Yet all trace of agitation vanished in an instant behind her delicate smile.
“I was waiting for you to return.”
She gestured toward the bedroom door connected to the study. Following her gaze, Barcas caught sight of the dining table positioned beyond the half-open door and furrowed his brow. Upon the large round table sat a vase filled with colorful flowers and a silver candelabra arranged with meticulous care.
“We haven’t shared a meal together since you returned. So I… prepared this.”
Though she attempted to feign composure, her voice could not conceal the tension that permeated it.
Barcas exhaled a weary sigh.
“Such gestures will not change my mind. Please cease this unnecessary effort.”
His tone was harsh and dry even to his own ears. To her, it sounded far more callous, and the smile that had lingered upon her rouged lips faded away without trace.
“I didn’t prepare this to change your mind. It’s just… I heard you would be away from the castle for several days…”
She fumbled with the ornaments attached to her skirt hem with anxious fingers.
“I wanted to apologize before you left. That day… I was too harsh. I shouldn’t have driven you away like that…”
Barcas merely gazed down at her in silence. He could not be certain whether he should accept this invitation. He no longer wished to be helplessly swayed by her caprices.
He averted his eyes from her anxious face and spoke with cold indifference.
“There is nothing for which you need apologize. I should have expressed my intentions regarding the child more clearly from the beginning. However, I…”
“Let’s not discuss that anymore.”
She hastily cut off his words.
“I do desire a child… but if you say you don’t wish for one, I won’t press the matter further. I didn’t come here today because of that. I simply…”
The woman lowered her eyes awkwardly and finished in a voice that seemed to shrink away.
“I wanted to share an evening meal with you.”
“….”
“If you don’t feel like it, you can refuse. I can eat alone.”
When he offered no response, she flushed crimson and spun away abruptly. Reflexively grasping her wrist, Barcas exhaled a sigh tinged with defeat.
“Please wait a moment. I shall change my clothes and join you.”
Only then did color return to her face. Talia nodded like a child and hurried toward the Bedroom.
As the door closed, he stripped away his damp garments and dried himself with a towel. Then he retrieved fresh indoor robes, dressed himself, and stood before the mirror to arrange his disheveled hair and straighten his appearance.
Having completed his preparations swiftly, Barcas donned a silk tunic hanging upon the wall and entered the Bedroom where she awaited him.
“That was faster than expected. Come, sit here.”
Talia, who had been nervously rearranging the dishes on the table, sprang to her feet.
Barcas hesitated briefly, then walked to the seat across from her and sat. Upon the table lay a steaming soup, perfectly roasted meat, and an array of colorful fruits, all arranged with meticulous care.
As Talia portioned small amounts onto his plate, she chattered away with a briskness that seemed almost unnatural for her.
“You’re hungry, aren’t you? Eat quickly. The Steward mentioned you’ve been skipping meals lately. He lectures me endlessly about my eating habits, but what will I do if you’re the one neglecting yourself?”
He caught her hand as it moved busily across the table, stilling it.
“I shall manage on my own. Please, sit down.”
“You’ve often looked after my meals before. Today, I wanted to do this for you.”
She murmured the words in a trembling voice, her gaze fixed upon the flickering candlelight. Recognizing her anxiety about being rejected, Barcas released her hand without protest.
Talia then began cutting the meat with awkward movements, layering various sauces upon it with great deliberation. Though she appeared cautious, a woman who had spent her entire life being served could hardly be expected to prepare food with skill.
He gazed down at the mangled pastry, the hacked meat fragments, and the jumbled mess of sticky jam and various sauces, and let out a faint chuckle.
She looked at him with worried eyes.
“What is it? Don’t you like the food?”
“Not at all.”
He picked up his fork and pushed the mushy food into his mouth.
“How is it? Does it taste good?”
Though he could scarcely discern what he was eating, he nodded calmly.
“Please, you should eat as well.”
As he portioned an appropriate amount onto her plate and offered it, a pleased smile graced Talia’s lips.
She tasted the lamb he had neatly carved and the fruit in small portions, then took several more spoonfuls of the mild chicken soup. Though she still picked at her food, it was a far cry from her childhood self, who had regarded eating as an ordeal.
“When will you depart tomorrow?”
As he observed her eating intently, she wiped her lips with a napkin and suddenly posed the question. He answered offhandedly.
“We plan to depart at dawn.”
“Lucas mentioned he would be eliminating the raiders… How many Soldiers are you taking with you?”
Barcas, who had been chewing lamb smeared with peach jam, furrowed his brow and studied her carefully. He had thought she remained confined to this Chamber, yet when had she spoken with Lucas? Suppressing his displeasure, he answered in a blunt tone.
“Roughly seven hundred cavalry have assembled.”
“Isn’t that too few?”
She exclaimed in surprise. He let out a soft laugh.
“It is merely a matter of eliminating a band of thieves. Seven hundred mounted warriors are more than sufficient for such a task.”
“Still… you’ll only be commanding from the rear, won’t you?”
He neither confirmed nor denied this, instead busily conveying the food she had served to his mouth. Talia, watching anxiously, suddenly rose and retrieved a silver pitcher from the shelf.
“Aren’t you thirsty? Let me pour you some wine.”
Before he could object, a goblet was filled to the brim with a dark-hued liquid. The sharp aroma that assailed his nostrils made Barcas furrow his brow. It was no ordinary wine—a potent alcohol mingled with the scents of various herbs.
“It’s a special tonic, they say. It contains many medicinal ingredients beneficial to the body… It should help ease your fatigue.”
She explained in an awkward voice.
Barcas, eyeing the crimson liquid with suspicion, decided to test it. He brought the thick liquid to his lips and took a tentative sip. It was not as dreadful as he had anticipated. He swallowed several more mouthfuls of the potent wine, feeling it burn his throat, before setting the glass down.

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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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