The Forgotten Field - Chapter 24

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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 24
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As the young Crown Prince led his entourage through the sprawling estate of Mordawin Monastery, hundreds of citizens scattered flower petals along the path in greeting.
Gareth raised one hand in acknowledgment of their welcome. The citizens’ cheers grew louder. Though I had repeated this same ritual for days until boredom set in, it never quite lost its appeal. I lifted my chin higher and urged my horse forward with unmistakable pride.
Once we emerged from the congested streets teeming with crowds, a vast courtyard and a magnificent temple came into view. I brought the knights to a halt before what appeared to be a prayer hall.
“You must have endured quite a journey to reach us.”
Moments later, a man in pristine white monastic robes approached.
Gareth studied him intently from atop his horse. The man had a face sharp as an arrowhead and pale silver hair with a faint blue tint.
I quickly discerned that this young monk was not human. His complexion was unnaturally pallid, and the tips of his ears rose to distinct points. He was likely a half-elf or quarter-elf of some kind.
It was hardly surprising. In the northeastern regions of the ancient Osyria Kingdom, one could easily encounter mixed-race individuals carrying elf or dwarf blood.
Gareth suppressed his instinctive revulsion toward beings of different races and posed his question in a dignified tone.
“Are you the abbot of this monastery?”
“Indeed, Your Highness the Crown Prince. I am Basilius, entrusted with the management of this monastery.”
The man offered a gentle smile.
“We welcome you most sincerely to Mordawin.”
“This land is where my ancestor, the great Emperor Darian, achieved his first victory against the northern forces and received divine revelation of his sacred mission to unify the kingdoms. I am genuinely delighted to have come here.”
Gareth dismounted from his horse and spoke with the characteristic arrogance of the Imperial Family.
“In accordance with Imperial tradition, I wish to receive blessings in the names of the saints, so that divine grace may bless the futures of myself and my sister.”
“It shall be my honor to grant such blessings.”
The abbot replied respectfully, then added cautiously.
“For now, would it not be best if Your Highness retired to my residence to rest? We have been preparing a grand feast to receive you for several days now.”
He hesitated for a moment.
Ordinarily, they should have lodged in the dormitories reserved for pilgrims. Staying at the abbot’s residence could potentially be perceived as a political favor.
Gareth glanced back at Barcas, who stood like a shadow behind him. Apparently unwilling to draw attention, he had pulled his hood low to partially conceal his face.
After surveying the monastery carefully as if in deep contemplation, Barcas nodded after a considerable pause.
“Your Highness may do as you see fit.”
“Very well. Then we shall stay at the abbot’s residence tonight.”
With his permission granted, the waiting servants descended the stairs in perfect coordination to attend to the guests. Gareth handed over his horse’s reins and issued instructions to Barcas.
“Make sure you look after Aila well. This is her first time traveling so far, so everything will feel unfamiliar and uncomfortable.”
Barcas, who had been patting my horse, gave a light nod.
Gareth frowned slightly. If only he showed my sister even half the care he lavishes on my horse.
Muttering to myself, I followed the monks, when suddenly a lavish carriage at the edge of the courtyard caught my eye.
I furrowed my brow, staring at the carriage window draped with heavy curtains. Whether she was now being cautious or had finally grasped her own position, Talia Roem Guerta had remained sealed inside throughout the entire journey, refusing to show herself. My resolve to twist that slender neck of hers if she caused even the slightest trouble was beginning to feel rather pointless.
‘I wish she would simply remain quiet like this.’
But Talia Roem Guerta would never do such a thing. After all, she was a woman who had attached herself to me with some nefarious scheme in mind. There was no way to predict when, where, or what kind of disturbance she might cause.
Gareth, who had been staring at the carriage intently, barked savagely at Barcas.
“And make sure you tell that woman clearly—she is to remain as inconspicuous as a dead mouse, just as she has been until now.”
Barcas’s eyes narrowed slightly. He seemed displeased that I was openly displaying my hostility toward my half-sister. Come to think of it, he had even lectured me about being careful with my words and actions for the sake of my reputation, which was unlike him.
Gareth scoffed derisively and turned away sharply. As if there were anyone among the Empire’s citizens who didn’t know that the Crown Prince wanted to tear apart his father’s bastard child.
I lifted my chin high and followed the priests toward the grand mansion prepared behind the main temple.
The Abbot’s Residence was no less magnificent than the auxiliary palace prepared within the Imperial Palace. At the thought that he could spend at least this one night in comfort, a satisfied smile naturally bloomed across my face. I followed the monks into the grand hall.
The Abbot guided me to the most ornate chamber in the residence.
Gareth surveyed the spacious bedroom with an appraising eye. It appeared to be the Abbot’s usual quarters, for paintings depicting holy wars hung throughout the room, and prayer books and theological texts lay upon the desk.
The decorations were not entirely to my taste, but otherwise the chamber merited a passing grade. I cast off my cloak, reeking of horse, without ceremony and issued instructions to the servants standing at attention by the door.
“I wish to bathe first. Prepare a large tub filled with clean water—one spacious enough for me to stretch my legs.”
As the servants dispersed, I settled into a chair by the window and gestured toward the attendants who had followed me. At my silent command, two young servants promptly began removing my armor.
Gareth surrendered himself to their ministrations while reaching for a goblet resting upon the shelf. A perceptive servant immediately filled it. I leaned back against the chair’s support and took a measured sip of chilled wine. The rich liquid flowed down my throat, and an intense bouquet bloomed across my palate.
Savoring the powerful flavor that lingered on my tongue, I exhaled a languid sigh. The banquet promised to be worthwhile. The wine prepared by the monastery suited my palate, accustomed as it was to the rarest of spirits.
‘Holy commerce appears quite lucrative.’
I gazed out through the glass panes at the monastery’s sprawling estate, twisting my lips into a wry smile. High priests enjoyed wealth rivaling that of the greatest nobles. The Abbot here was undoubtedly living a life of luxury befitting the most exalted aristocrats.
Freed from the weight of armor, Gareth shed my sweat-soaked garments and plunged into the bath the monks had prepared. The servants immediately began scrubbing my body with soft brushes. I leaned my head against the tub’s edge and sipped the remaining wine.
How long I remained thus stretched out, I cannot say, but gradually, my body—exhausted from half a day of riding—regained some vitality. I rose from the tub and dressed in the summer evening attire the servants had laid out. After donning a velvet robe with minimal ornamentation, I followed the monks’ guidance from the chamber.
“Dinner has been prepared in the hall directly below, my lord.”
The monk holding a candle spoke carefully as he descended the marble staircase, its steps carpeted with soft velvet.
Gareth merely inclined my head with an indifferent expression. A lord must speak sparingly. I understood keenly how much silence could accomplish. After all, I kept at my side a man who seemed the very embodiment of silence.
Gareth caught sight of Barcas standing rigidly at the hall’s entrance, as though waiting, and my brow furrowed.
Whenever I saw him, a peculiar antagonism rose unbidden. Yet Barcas had never once defied me. Was it his unique presence? Or was it his reluctance to reveal his true nature?
Though I had observed him since childhood, he always seemed like a stranger I must guard against. That was what unsettled me most.
Could I truly entrust half my burden to this man?
“Where is Aila?”
“Her Highness is resting in the dormitory building used by the priestesses. It seems the fatigue has overcome her, and she will not be attending the banquet.”
“She has endured days of camping. It is only natural she should be exhausted.”
“I have prepared a restorative tonic to aid her recovery, so there is no need for concern.”
At his bland response, Gareth’s brow creased. I knew this man adopted a somewhat gentler demeanor toward my sister.
Despite being in the prime of his manhood, Barcas Laedgo Sierkan treated women as though they were fragile things to be protected. The way he wielded such coldness toward the women who approached me was enough to make even an observer shudder. At least he granted Aila his presence, for which I should be grateful.
Yet Gareth could not bring myself to view his lukewarm attitude favorably. That he had gained the Empire’s most precious treasure and yet showed not a shred of gratitude—such indifference was infuriating.
I spoke with a somewhat sharp edge to my voice.
“Aila is your betrothed. Shouldn’t you be devoting more attention to her?”

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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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