The Forgotten Field - Chapter 27

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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 27
His eyes, gleaming with anticipation, adhered to my chest like sticky tar before sliding slowly downward. He lingered there, tracing the contours revealed beneath my thin garments, then crawled back up to fix his gaze directly upon mine.
I felt every muscle in my body stiffen. I knew I should flee immediately, yet my legs refused to obey.
The man moistened his lower lip and crept closer.
“If Your Highness would only permit me….”
His rough, calloused hand—marked by years of labor—reached toward the hair draped across my shoulder. I watched in terror as my golden strands became ensnared around his thick fingers.
I couldn’t breathe properly. I should have shouted at him to keep his hands to himself, yet my open mouth produced no sound.
Taking my silence as consent, the man who had been tenderly stroking each strand of my golden hair now extended his hand toward my face.
His sandpaper-rough palm scraped painfully against my delicate skin. As fear consumed me and I shrank back, a massive gauntleted hand suddenly emerged from the darkness, seizing the man’s wrist in an iron grip.
I stumbled backward as though awakening from a trance. When I lifted my gaze, I saw eyes of brilliant silver-blue burning with intensity.
In that instant, my heart plummeted.
I instinctively pressed myself against the wall. Barcas, his expression utterly impassive as he looked down at me, slowly turned his gaze toward the Monk.
Whatever he saw in those eyes made the Monk, who had been rigid as stone, begin trembling violently as though confronted by a specter.
“I, I was merely… I, Your Highness….”
“Silence.”
His deep, heavy voice cut off the Monk’s excuses. The Monk’s face, drained of all color, contorted in agony. Though his grip appeared deceptively light, it seemed as though he might shatter bone with the force he exerted.
Barcas spoke slowly and deliberately to the man, who was now drenched in cold sweat.
“Neither of us wishes to make this matter larger than it is. Return quietly to your quarters.”
The Monk, groaning in pain, nodded frantically.
Barcas released his arm and added:
“It would be wise for you to stay out of my sight until we depart this place.”
“Y, yes, I will remember.”
The man clutched his swollen, bruised wrist and whimpered.
Barcas jerked his chin dismissively. The man didn’t hesitate and fled in panic. After watching his pathetic retreating figure for a moment, Barcas turned his gaze back toward me.
I lowered my eyes without thinking. Though I had done nothing wrong, my mouth had gone dry and heat rose to my neck. As I fidgeted nervously, his chillingly composed voice echoed through the darkness.
“Follow me. I will escort you to your quarters.”
My body, which had been rigid with tension, suddenly went limp, and my arms fell to my sides. In that moment, a strange sense of grievance and sorrow washed over me.
I nearly suffered something terrible. I was terrified beyond measure. So why are you being so indifferent about it?
With an indignant expression, I bit my lip and abruptly surged past him. I would rather die than show him my weakness.
Holding my head high with deliberate pride, I strode across the Garden, and before long, the Female Dormitory came into view beyond the long corridor.
Keeping my gaze fixed ahead, I called out sharply:
“We’ve arrived, so stop following me!”
Knights stood guard around the building. I would not suffer the same indignity as before.
I quickened my pace as though fleeing. But after only a few steps, I found myself trapped between him and the building’s outer wall.
I looked up at him with wide eyes.
“What, what is this… suddenly….”
“If one plays with fire and gets burned once, severely enough….”
His voice was like something scraping the inside of his throat. He seemed to notice it himself, for he paused briefly. Then his voice resumed, considerably more composed.
“Shouldn’t you be more careful by now?”
I felt the color drain from my face. Barcas, scrutinizing me with eyes sharp enough to dissect, twisted his lips.
“Or is it that you truly wish to roll about recklessly?”
Talia’s hand flew out without hesitation. But once again, her wrist was caught before her palm could even graze his face. Barcas added slowly.
“If that is your intention, I must ask you to exercise restraint for now. Until this journey concludes, I would prefer to avoid any troublesome complications.”
She pressed her trembling lips firmly together. He released her arm and turned his body away with deliberate slowness.
“I trust you understand.”
In that moment, had a blade been in my hand, I would have driven it into his back without hesitation.
Like a fish gliding through water, I watched his receding figure with murderous intent, my gaze silent and unrelenting. Then I felt my vision blur and hastily turned my head away.
Though I knew he would not look back, I feared he might catch sight of my tears. I roughly wiped my eyes with my sleeve and fled into the Female Dormitory as though escaping.
* * *
The next morning, the ceremony proceeded as though nothing had occurred.
I sat perched at the window of my assigned Bedroom, looking down at the twin siblings heading toward the Altar, with Barcas following behind them as their escort.
By rights, I should have been among them. But I had excused myself, claiming illness. I had rejected a ceremony that the Imperial Family was obligated to perform, using a patently absurd excuse.
Ordinarily, the ceremony should have been postponed, but the Crown Prince’s firm resolve ensured it proceeded as scheduled. Perhaps the Monastery was even pleased by this arrangement. After all, bestowing divine blessing upon a bastard was not something they desired either.
‘…I should have just participated.’
As I giggled to myself, my laughter faded upon seeing Aila and Barcas standing side by side before the Altar.
Had I joined them there, I could not have predicted what I might have done. I might have rushed at one of them, screaming that I would kill them.
‘I no longer even know which one I despise more…’
I habitually brought my fingers to my lips, but unwilling to damage my newly grown nails, I lowered my arm again.
I could no longer bear to watch. I drew the curtains and threw myself onto the bed.
Huddled in the dim darkness, memories of last night swirled through my mind. The lustful gaze, the hand reaching toward me, and Barcas’s cold, piercing eyes….
“Should you not exercise caution now, having once been severely burned by playing with fire?”
I pulled the blanket over my head.
Barcas believed I had seduced that man. Perhaps he was not entirely wrong. I had always been foolish, constantly maneuvering myself into impossible situations…. And it had been his role to extract me from danger. Now that I had finally escaped that tiresome duty, it was only natural that I felt nauseated to see a similar situation arise. He must be utterly sick of me by now.
I had only just freed myself from that tedious responsibility, yet here another similar affair had unfolded. His disgust was inevitable.
I buried my face in the pillow and laughed silently.
The image of him walking away from my life surfaced. Perhaps it was because something similar had occurred just yesterday.
Staring quietly at the beam of light filtering through the curtains, I slowly closed my eyes. Buried memories unfurled chaotically within my mind.

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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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