The Forgotten Field - Chapter 25

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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 25
“I am always mindful of Your Highness.”
Barcas spoke in a tone so impeccably courteous that it left no room for complaint.
“I merely meant to suggest that the Princess is resting comfortably, so there is no cause for concern. Please do not take offense.”
He glared at Barcas with irritation before striding into the expansive hall. There was no point in losing my temper with this block of a man—it would only make me look foolish.
I clicked my tongue lightly and crossed the hall, which was decorated no less lavishly than any noble’s banquet hall.
“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
As I approached the long table draped in pristine white linen, the Abbot rose abruptly to greet me.
“Please, sit here.”
I settled into the seat he had vacated and surveyed the table. The Abbot clearly had no intention of even pretending to embrace a life of austere simplicity. The expansive table was laden with silver cutlery, golden goblets, and sumptuous dishes seasoned with exotic spices.
I examined it all with satisfaction before nodding to the dozen or so priests seated around the table.
“I appreciate such a warm welcome. Come, be seated.”
The moment the words left my lips, the monks pulled back their chairs in unison. Only Barcas, present as my escort, remained standing quietly like a shadow behind me.
Curious glances flew toward him, clearly startled by the striking appearance of the Imperial Knight Order’s commander.
I frowned slightly.
Barcas always drew more attention than necessary, so it was hardly unusual. Yet I found myself irritated that people seemed more focused on him than on me.
It was a tiresome occurrence whenever I had him in my company, and the displeasure refused to fade.
I raised my goblet high, taking care not to show my displeasure.
“Let us express our gratitude to the Abbot for arranging such a delightful gathering.”
The priests’ attention returned to me. I savored the moment, pausing deliberately before continuing.
“I hope this time proves meaningful for us all….”
Just as I was about to conclude my toast with a flourish, a golden phantom abruptly invaded my field of vision. I froze, staring blankly at the entrance to the hall.
For a moment, I thought that nightmare of a woman—Senevir—had appeared.
I gripped the goblet roughly and scrutinized my half-sister from head to toe. Apparently she did not know the basic propriety of dressing simply in a monastery, for Talia Roem Guerta was adorned in such finery that she would stand out even in the Imperial Palace’s banquet hall. And it was utterly vulgar and tasteless at that.
I clenched my teeth in contempt. Talia, whose thin dress revealed the soft, unripe curves of her still-developing form, walked slowly toward the table.
The monks looked as though they might faint on the spot. Some had their mouths hanging open, completely entranced. I could not contain my fury and shot to my feet.
“How dare you… Do you not know where you are, dressed like that!”
I slammed down my wine glass with a crash, and wine spilled over the rim. I did not bother wiping my wet hand before pointing accusingly.
“Did you not hear my warning to stay out of my sight?”
“Oh, of course I did.”
The woman pulled out the chair beside me as though it were the most natural thing in the world, a coquettish smile playing at her lips.
“But my brother wishes to see me, so how could I possibly remain still? Unable to resist the great Crown Prince’s request, I took such care in preparing myself for this visit.”
She then deliberately ran her hand down her skirt for effect. I stared at my half-sister in disbelief.
“What nonsense is this….”
“Surely you are not unaware of my stubborn nature. And sending the commander of the Imperial Knight Order himself with such a message—was that not a sign that you were dying to see your younger sister?”
Her pure cobalt eyes narrowed with a sly gleam.
“Since the Crown Prince made such an earnest request, I felt obliged to meet your expectations as your sister.”
I had to muster every ounce of restraint I possessed to keep from striking her across the face. As if to provoke me further, Talia continued slowly.
“Ah, it is so good to see my brother’s face. Are you enjoying yourself as well?”
“…I was, until you appeared.”
At his words, ground out through gritted teeth, Talia burst into laughter.
“Then your arduous journey was well worth the effort.”
Gareth clenched his jaw so hard I thought it might shatter. Every time this woman laughed like that, the urge to mar that bizarrely beautiful face of hers became nearly unbearable. My shoulders trembled with barely suppressed violence as I clenched my fists, speaking each word as though chewing it. “How much longer do you intend to provoke me? Are you testing to see how far my patience extends?”
“How much longer do you intend to provoke me? Are you testing to see how far my patience extends?”
“Such harsh words, brother….”
The woman leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. Chandelier light cascaded over her pitifully thin shoulders and prominent shoulder blades. The monks’ gazes, too, poured forth toward her delicate form—as though carved from ivory itself.
A serpent of a woman. I was engulfed in intense revulsion, breathing harshly through my teeth. Sensing my fury reaching its peak, Talia’s lips curved upward in a cruel smile.
“I merely accepted your invitation. I cannot fathom why you rage so. Surely you don’t think it too much to show kindness to such a beloved younger sister…?”
The woman turned her head toward the Abbot across from her, as though seeking his agreement. His face stiffened in bewilderment at the sudden question. Finding his innocent reaction amusing, the woman’s eyes narrowed with a dangerous gleam. Watching her flaunt her charms like a courtesan made my stomach churn. I seized her forearm roughly.
“If you’re in heat, choose a bedmate from among your attendants. Do not toy with the monks…. Should you tarnish the Imperial Family’s name with sordid scandal, I’ll ensure that pretty face of yours never sees daylight again.”
At my lethal threat, the woman’s eyes flashed.
“What exactly will you do?”
Talia tilted her head forward as though spoiling for a fight, her words spilling out fiercely.
“Since you speak so boldly, brother, I’m dying to see you make good on it.”
I could bear it no longer. My hand reached out to twist that slender neck of hers.
In that instant, a heavy hand descended upon my shoulder.
“Your Highness.”
I flinched and looked up. Barcas Laedgo Sierkan stood above me, his expression serene.
It was that numbingly familiar face—utterly devoid of emotional residue. Yet for a moment, I felt threatened. Impossible though it was.
“Everyone awaits your toast, Your Highness.”
He pressed down firmly on my shoulder, as though warning me not to be drawn into Talia’s provocation.
I shook off his hand somewhat roughly. My fingertips trembled with the unsatisfied desire for violence.
Clenching my fist to conceal it, I glared at the woman’s smug face.
Talia Roem Guerta was deliberately scratching at me. I must not be swept away by it. Repeating this to myself, I forced my seething rage to subside and released the woman’s arm. Then, picking up my goblet again, I shouted in an exaggerated tone as though performing a play.
“We’ve wasted enough time on pointless bickering. Come now, let us partake of the meal. Once more, I express my gratitude to the Abbot for arranging such a fine gathering…. I hope this day proves meaningful for all present.”
The monks, their faces frozen, exchanged glances between the Crown Prince, the illegitimate Imperial Princess, and the Imperial Knight Order commander standing behind him, before hesitantly raising their goblets. Only Talia Roem Guerta stood with arms crossed, watching the scene with a contemptuous smile.
Just as my temper flared again at her defiant attitude, Barcas leaned over Talia’s head.
“As a guest, you might observe basic courtesy, Imperial Princess.”
Then he gently uncurled her hand and placed a silver goblet into it. Talia stiffened, startled by the sudden contact, and shot him a venomous glare.
I expected her to hurl the goblet at him immediately. From childhood, she had clashed with him constantly—she seemed unable to tolerate Barcas Laedgo Sierkan.
Yet contrary to my expectation, Talia, whose eyes had blazed like an enraged cat, soon straightened herself. I narrowed my eyes. Backing down at such a warning was unlike Talia Roem Guerta. She was the woman who always raged without restraint. She should have hurled herself at him with foam on her lips, not meekly submitting to Barcas’s pressure.
‘What scheme is she plotting?’

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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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