The Forgotten Field - Chapter 208

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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 208
Lucas regained consciousness four days later.
Fortunately, his vocal cords had not sustained permanent damage, and his voice remained largely unaffected, yet the aftermath of his injuries manifested in an unexpected quarter.
Lucas could not recall the circumstances of his injury at all. While not all his memories had been lost, there existed a considerable gap in the trajectory of his life since he turned sixteen.
“Considering that your cervical spine was nearly crushed, it borders on miraculous that you’ve suffered only these aftereffects.”
The High Priest, who had been carefully assessing Lucas’s condition through examination, exhaled a sigh of relief as he spoke.
“In the worst cases, complete paralysis or intellectual deterioration can render a person incapable of rational thought. However, it appears that aside from partial memory loss, you have suffered no other lingering effects.”
Sighs of relief escaped the lips of those gathered around the bed. Yet Lucas himself seemed unable to accept the High Priest’s words.
Lying at an angle upon the bed with a gaunt appearance, Lucas furrowed his brow and muttered softly.
“My mind is in complete disarray as if someone had hacked at it, so what miracle are you talking about?”
His voice had grown lower and rougher than before. Displeased by this change, a furrow deepened between Lucas’s brows.
“Even my voice has become like this.”
“I thought you were going to die.”
Raina, who had been sitting beside the bed and sniffling the entire time, spoke while blowing her nose into a handkerchief.
“I was so terrified you might not be normal when you woke up. It’s a blessing that you’ve only become slightly more foolish than usual.”
Lucas regarded his sister with narrowed eyes.
“Is that supposed to be comforting?”
Though he clicked his tongue at the absurdity, he gently stroked his sister’s head as she continued to weep.
Barcas, who had been observing the scene from the doorway, approached the bedside and posed a question.
“How did you come to be injured? Do you truly remember nothing at all?”
Lucas looked up at him with a confused expression. The eyes that normally held a bright tan hue were now tinged with a deep brown.
“I…”
As Lucas struggled to piece together his memories, he suddenly clutched his temples and let out a low groan.
Seeing this, Raina sprang to her feet and embraced Lucas’s head.
“You don’t need to remember!”
Then, looking directly at him, she spoke sharply.
“You’ve only just regained consciousness after nearly two weeks in an unconscious state. Why would you need to relive the memory of nearly losing your life right now?”
Lucas, flustered, tugged at his sister’s sleeve to stop her, but Raina remained unmoved.
Barcas, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed the scene, withdrew from the bed with a final sigh.
“Rest until your body has completely recovered. All duties assigned to you will be handled by Baredon for the time being.”
A furrow reappeared on Lucas’s brow. He seemed uncertain of what duties he had been assigned.
Observing his sister’s face closely, noting the beads of cold sweat forming as her headache intensified, Barcas left the chamber without hesitation.
The Corridor was crowded with Retainers who had heard the news of Lucas’s awakening.
Barcas passed through them without acknowledgment and descended the Staircase. At that moment, the Head Handmaiden called out to him urgently.
“Your Grace.”
Barcas turned his head as he was about to step onto the final stair.
A woman of sturdy build approached with evident tension etched across her face and spoke carefully.
“Now that young master Lucas has awakened safely, shall we lift the confinement imposed upon the Grand Duchess?”
Barcas furrowed his brow.
Having endured days of pressure from his Retainers claiming the punishment he had inflicted upon the Grand Duchess was too lenient, his response emerged with a sharp edge.
“Since when has the Head Handmaiden earned the right to question the Grand Duchess’s treatment?”
The Head Handmaiden’s resolute shoulders stiffened under the oppressive rebuke.
Barcas regarded her pallid face with a cold gaze before turning away and descending the staircase. He crossed the Hall toward the castle exit when the Head Handmaiden pursued him once more.
“I, I am well aware this is overstepping my station. However….”
The Head Handmaiden, who dared block his path, opened her mouth hesitantly, her face taut with tension.
Barcas looked down at her with irritation flickering in his eyes.
Lacking the courage to meet his gaze, she fixed her eyes downward and spoke in rapid succession.
“If we leave the Grand Duchess as she is, I fear something terrible will occur. Might you not reconsider her treatment?”
At this unexpected plea, Barcas’s eyebrows rose.
Everyone in this castle regarded Talia as the source of the successive calamities that had befallen them. The Head Handmaiden was no exception.
Unlike the other Retainers, she did not openly display her displeasure, yet he knew she viewed the Grand Duchess with disfavor. He had simply allowed it because she did not neglect her duties as Head Handmaiden.
From the start, few would willingly serve Talia, who bristled like a hedgehog and lashed out in all directions.
Thus, he had deliberately assigned those around her individuals of strong patience and strict propriety.
The Head Handmaiden was among those carefully selected. That such a woman would come forward with such desperation suggested something grave was transpiring.
Barcas’s expression shifted abruptly, his tone becoming grave.
“What is her condition?”
“Since moving her quarters to the Separate Building… she has refused all meals.”
At this hesitant response, Barcas’s face contorted slightly.
He clenched his fists and gazed beyond the frost-laden Garden. Near the Castle Gate, his subordinates stood in formation, awaiting departure. He was scheduled to proceed to the Meeting Hall with them that morning. Matters of state accumulated like mountains—selecting new lords to administer the Northeastern Region among them. He no longer possessed the capacity to indulge her tantrums.
He spoke with cold resolve.
“The Grand Duchess’s hunger strike is hardly a matter of days.”
The Head Handmaiden’s lips pressed into a rigid line.
Dismissing this, he stepped toward the castle exit and added:
“Leave her be. She will tire of it soon enough.”
As he turned to descend the staircase, an urgent voice pierced the air behind him.
“This is far more serious than that. I would not presume to report this if the situation were not grave.”
Barcas’s footsteps halted abruptly.
The woman approached him again, her face hardened as she continued.
“According to the Grand Duchess’s personal Handmaidens, she has not consumed even a single drop of water, let alone food. Previously, she would at least take honey wine or dried fruit occasionally, but now she refuses everything entirely. If we allow this to continue, I fear catastrophe will befall her….”
The woman trailed off, closing her mouth.
He stood rigid as a trapped animal, his gaze fixed upon the ground.
After a long moment, he uttered a quiet curse and turned back.
“Inform the Retainers that the meeting is postponed.”
He then proceeded past the Main Castle toward the Separate Building located north of the Castle Walls.
As he passed the auxiliary structures surrounding the Inner Castle, a three-story building situated in the Garden came into view.
The Soldiers standing guard before it, startled by the Grand Duke’s sudden appearance, hastily straightened from where they had been leaning against the wall.
Barcas passed them and entered the building. Near the entrance, young Handmaidens sat gathered, preparing ingredients.
“Where is the Grand Duchess?”
At his question, the Handmaidens, who had been busily trimming vegetables, sprang to their feet as though struck.
“G-Grand Duke, we greet you.”
The Handmaiden, bowing her head in haste, stammered out her response.
“Y-Your Highness is in the second-floor Bedroom.”
Barcas ascended the wooden Staircase without delay. At the end of the narrow Corridor, a Bedroom door crafted from deep mahogany came into view.
He approached it and grasped the door handle, pulling it open.
With a creaking sound, the dim interior of the Chamber gradually revealed itself through the widening gap.
He walked directly to the window and drew back the blackout curtains. Winter sunlight pierced through the glass, illuminating the Bedroom in brilliant clarity. As my gaze fell upon the bed, I drew in a ragged breath without thinking.
In just a few days, Aria had grown even more gaunt.
As I surveyed her deathly pale face drained of all vitality, her skeletal neck with veins visible beneath translucent skin, and her emaciated frame glimpsed between the folds of her disheveled dress, a strangled voice escaped my lips.
“What are you doing?”
Aria, sprawled like a broken doll, slowly lifted her eyelids. In that moment, an uncanny chill swept through my entire body.
She regarded me briefly with eyes as desolate as a tomb, then closed them again. Turning her body to the other side, she murmured in a voice that seemed ready to crumble.
“…Leave me alone.”
At that sight, the fury I had suppressed erupted.
I seized her shoulder and turned her toward me with force.
“I asked you what you’re doing.”
Aria showed no reaction. Her vacant gaze only conveyed that she could not fathom why I was angry.

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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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