The Forgotten Field - Chapter 49

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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 49
Why had I startled so violently at the mere act of waking in the dead of night?
I drew a deep breath, desperately trying to calm my heart as it hammered against my ribs. Yet the suffocation only intensified.
Talia forced air through her constricted throat and, unable to bear the oppressive sensation any longer, rose from her bed.
Her splinted leg protested with sharp pain, but with breath threatening to abandon her entirely, she had no time for caution. She tumbled from the carriage almost ungracefully, gasping with her mouth wide open as she staggered forward, her legs trembling beneath her.
Soon, she spotted the flickering glow of firelight not far ahead. Relief bloomed deep within her chest as she dragged her rigid, spasming leg toward the large tent where a campfire had been kindled.
Then, a cheerful voice tinged with mockery drifted on the wind.
“She’s been cursed by the heavens.”
Talia froze mid-step.
A woman seated before the fire poked at the logs with a long stick, speaking loudly and without restraint.
“Everyone knows it. That woman cursed the First Princess during her birthday celebration—and she had the audacity to crash the event and cause a scene!”
The Handmaiden’s voice rose with excitement.
Talia studied the face illuminated by firelight intently. The unfamiliar features suggested she was a Handmaiden attending to either Aila or Gareth.
The Handmaiden took a sip from her cup, moistening her lips before launching into her tale with renewed enthusiasm.
“Surely the gods have punished her. Her own curse has rebounded upon her—it’s nothing but karma!”
“I heard she might become crippled. Is that true?”
“Very likely! A Handmaiden serving the Second Princess told me her leg bones were completely shattered—they had to piece them together like a puzzle for hours.”
Talia flinched, glancing down at her own leg.
The woman’s voice dropped slightly.
“And she’s covered in terrible scars, I heard. Her skin is so twisted that even magic can’t remove them cleanly. They say it looks absolutely grotesque—all mottled and discolored.”
“At least we won’t have to watch that woman strut through the Imperial Palace anymore.”
“Exactly. Her only source of pride has been marred! How could she possibly maintain her arrogance with a body like that?”
Cruel laughter erupted from various corners of the gathering.
Talia, who had been standing motionless, dragged her leg forward until she was directly behind the woman.
Those who noticed her shadow went pale. Yet the woman, still animated and chattering away, remained oblivious to her presence. She continued her tirade.
“Her marriage prospects are essentially ruined now. What noble house would accept a woman of illegitimate birth who’s also become disabled?… Ahhh!”
The woman suddenly shrieked as her hair was seized from behind.
Talia wrenched the tightly braided locks without mercy. The woman’s face drained of all color as shock and terror flooded her features.
Looking down at her with cold satisfaction, Talia’s lips curved into a thin smile.
“Why have you stopped talking?”
“Y-Your Highness…”
“A woman of illegitimate birth who’s become disabled—what makes you so afraid of her?”
The woman’s eyes widened in horror. Between lips that had been smirking moments before, rough sobs began to pour forth.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Highness. I’ve committed such a terrible sin…”
“What sin have you committed?”
“I…”
The woman’s trembling lips struggled to form words.
“I s-spoke disrespectfully of the Princess, Your Highness. I h-humbly beg your m-mercy and f-forgiveness…”
“If you’ve committed a wrong, you must face punishment. Why do you immediately seek forgiveness?”
The woman’s complexion had turned nearly ashen.
Talia stared down at the ashen face before her, then turned her gaze to sweep across those gathered around the campfire.
The Handmaidens, frozen like mice before a serpent, prostrated themselves flat. Among them, Talia spotted a Knight whose tension was palpable, and she gave a light jerk of her chin.
“You. Come here.”
The Knight hesitated for a moment before approaching her with reluctant steps.
Talia yanked down the hair she had been gripping, forcing the woman to her knees before the Knight.
“She dared insult the Imperial Family with her three-inch tongue, so she must pay the price. Now, draw your sword and do what must be done.”
The Knight’s shoulders visibly stiffened.
The woman’s mouth released a sound like choking sobs. The Knight, his expression darkening as he looked down at her, placed one hand over his chest and bowed deeply.
“Your Highness, we are already stretched thin preparing for the funeral and tending to the wounded. If we conduct an execution now, it will cause unnecessary chaos and unrest. Please, I beg you to set aside your anger.”
“Are you defying my command right now?”
The Knight kept his mouth firmly shut and bowed his head even lower.
At this silent acquiescence, Talia let out a bitter laugh before her face twisted with rage.
“If you won’t do it, I will.”
Talia released the woman’s hair as if hurling her away and lunged at the Knight. Startled by her unexpected action, the man reflexively grabbed her shoulder. Talia glared at him with furious eyes.
“How dare you lay hands on me without permission!”
The man jerked his hand away as if burned. Seizing that moment, Talia grasped the sword hilt hanging at his waist.
But the longsword used by Knights was heavier than she expected, and her legs—weakened to the point where they could barely support her own weight—gave way. As Talia drew the blade, she lost her balance and collapsed to the ground.
A terrible silence descended over her pathetic fall.
Talia clutched at her convulsing legs and looked up.
The Knight and Handmaidens filled her vision with their rigid expressions.
An old memory clawed through her mind. Dozens of cold eyes staring down at her as she lay helplessly sprawled over her own vomit. The shame, humiliation, and primal terror of that day surged back, burning through her consciousness.
With trembling hands, she pushed against the ground and forced her upper body upright. She wanted to rise to her feet and assert the dignity and authority of a Princess, but her legs would not obey.
As Talia struggled to make her uncooperative legs move, she noticed the woman standing nearby, staring down at her with a vacant gaze, and her face hardened.
The woman who had mocked her was now watching her crawl on the ground.
I cannot allow this.
Groping across the earth, Talia seized a piece of firewood from the flames. The searing heat burned her fingers, but physical pain could never compare to the anguish of a shattered pride.
She lashed the woman’s face with the smoldering wood.
A piercing shriek tore from her throat.
Unsatisfied, Talia raised the wood to strike again when a dark shadow erupted from the darkness, seizing her body.
Talia thrashed like an enraged beast, then froze as a familiar scent reached her. Barcas, holding her effortlessly with one arm, looked down at her with cold eyes.
Caught in that gaze, breathing heavily, she watched as he took the firewood from her hand and hurled it into the distance. Just as he had seized her sword before, he was now confiscating her weapon again.
Resentment surged within me.
This man never stands with me.
He won’t fight for me, yet he won’t let me fight for myself either.

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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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