The Forgotten Field - Chapter 32

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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 32
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By noon, the rain began to pour down in torrents.
The soldiers, bustling about their preparations, hastily draped tar-treated canvas over the supply wagons and herded the horses back into the Stables.
From within the carriage, Aila lifted her gaze to the darkened sky.
Between the heavy black clouds releasing thick raindrops, flashes of light occasionally flickered, followed by a rumbling sound that echoed across the landscape. To all appearances, the rain showed no signs of abating anytime soon.
“It appears we shall need to remain at the Monastery for another day.”
Having apparently decided to postpone their departure, a Guard Knight who had been sequestered in the knights’ quarters for some time approached the carriage and slid a waterproofed robe through the gap in the door.
Aila accepted it with a soft sigh. The delays accumulating in their schedule displeased her. This journey was fraught with uncertainties as it was.
She donned the rain cloak while repeatedly glancing out the window.
“Where is the Crown Prince at present?”
“His Highness has gone to the Abbot’s Residence.”
Aila pulled the hood over her head and turned to regard him with a frown.
“He intends to stay there again today?”
“It would appear so.”
The knight’s words trailed off ambiguously as his gaze lowered.
Aila regarded the gathered Monks with a look of displeasure.
When the Abbot standing beneath the Cloister roof issued instructions, the Monks dispersed in perfect unison. She observed their movements with keen attention.
The Abbot appeared far colder and more austere than when dealing with Gareth. This was likely his true nature.
Aila’s eyes narrowed. Imperial pilgrimages were traditionally ceremonies meant to secure the support of regional citizens and influential figures. Given the purpose of this journey, Gareth cultivating connections with local dignitaries was hardly an unwise endeavor. Yet his origins troubled her.
‘If a Non-human has overcome such a disadvantage to reach the position of Abbot, he must possess either formidable political acumen or powerful backing.’
Though their conversation had been brief, Aila quickly discerned that the Abbot was no ordinary man. While he maintained an outwardly courteous demeanor, his eyes as he observed Gareth betrayed cold calculation. She wondered if the Empress had placed him here.
Had not the Taren Family maintained close cooperation with Non-humans since the Age of Warring States? It could not be mere coincidence that a Quarter-Elf had risen to such a high priestly position managing a vast Monastery like Mordawin.
Perhaps the Religious Order was beginning to build a faction supporting the Second Prince within its ranks.
“Your Highness?”
Aila’s head snapped up from her reverie. Her Guard Knight stood drenched in the downpour, his eyes filled with concern.
Aila offered an awkward smile and rose to her feet.
“I’ve kept you standing in the rain far too long. Come, let us return to our quarters.”
The knight took her hand and helped her descend from the carriage.
Aila carefully picked her way across the muddy ground.
Heavy raindrops struck her crown and shoulders with stinging force. The rain seemed to intensify with each passing moment.
Gripping the hood tightly about her head, Aila hurried across the broad courtyard now shrouded in white curtains of rain and entered the Cloister that encircled the Garden. Then, as if by chance, she approached the priests.
“Your Highness the Princess.”
The Non-human Priest, who had been conversing with the Sub-Abbot, spotted her and quickly bowed.
Aila offered a warm response, her smile settling into its habitual rigidity.
“How fortunate that we impose upon your hospitality for yet another day.”
“It is our honor to serve such distinguished guests.”
The priest replied courteously, making no move to straighten from his bow.
“Should you require anything whatsoever, please do not hesitate to inform us. We shall attend to it at once if the Monastery can provide it.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
Aila hesitated briefly before continuing with measured deliberation.
“Then, might I impose upon you with a single request?”
“Please, speak freely. I shall grant whatever you ask.”
“Tomorrow, I wish to conduct a separate blessing ceremony for Talia. Before we depart, would you bestow your benediction upon that child as well?”
The Abbot’s eyes widened slightly at this unexpected petition.
Aila observed his reaction with keen attention. Though it lasted but a fleeting moment, she caught a flicker of wariness cross his pale violet eyes before it vanished.
The Priest spoke with cautious deliberation.
“You wish to conduct a blessing ceremony for the Second Princess?”
“Who else would it be for?”
Aila added softly, a faint smile gracing her lips.
“We’re staying an extra day regardless. Wouldn’t it be fitting to conduct the ceremony for that child as well?”
“I was unaware that Your Highness held the Second Princess in such regard.”
At the sudden voice, Aila turned her head.
Barcas, who had walked silently through the rain-soaked Garden, pushed back his dripping hood and fixed her with an impassive gaze.
The welcoming smile that had graced Aila’s lips faded. His rain-dampened face bore a coldness more pronounced than usual, and the sight of that frigid expression set her nerves on edge.
She understood well that his sensitivity regarding Talia stemmed from years of accumulated resentment. Even this emotionless man could not help but bristle at her half-sister’s misconduct.
Having endured her outrages at close quarters for seven long years, his exasperation was hardly unreasonable.
Intellectually, I understood all of this. Yet the way this cold-hearted man reserved his sharpest reactions solely for that child’s affairs was sometimes unbearably irritating.
Aila abandoned her intention to probe the Abbot and responded emotionally instead.
“I’m not concerned about her—I’m concerned about you. His Majesty entrusted her directly to your care. If he learns the ceremony was conducted without Talia, you may face unwarranted reproach.”
“Yet I cannot very well drag an unwilling person before the Altar.”
At his sardonic tone, Aila’s expression hardened.
She was accustomed to his occasional displays of such chilling coldness. But his discourtesy toward her on account of Talia Roem Guerta was something she could not abide.
Aila lifted her chin defiantly.
“First, we must ascertain Talia’s wishes. She is capricious—by tomorrow, she may well have changed her mind again.”
“Tomorrow, we depart at first light. I have no intention of altering our schedule according to the Second Princess’s whims.”
Barcas cut through her words with finality.
Aila, unaccustomed to having her opinions summarily dismissed, flushed with indignation. She longed to rebuke his insolence immediately, yet she had no wish to undermine his authority before all assembled.
Aila carefully concealed her displeasure.
“If that is your resolve, then I have no recourse.”
Upon her acquiescence, Barcas turned his gaze toward the Abbot.
The Priest, who had been watching their confrontation with interest, quickly averted his eyes. Barcas regarded him with a cool stare and issued a quiet warning.
“I trust this evening will pass as quietly as possible. If we are to depart at dawn, the Crown Prince must be well-rested, must he not?”
It was a clear directive against holding any banquets or feasts that evening. The Abbot nodded with a rigid expression.
As though there were nothing more to discuss, Barcas turned and extended a hand toward Aila.
“Shall we depart? I will escort you to your quarters.”
Aila swallowed a sigh and took his hand.

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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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