The Forgotten Field - Chapter 51

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 51
I recalled those days when I gathered each word flowing from his lips like precious gems, turning them over and over in my mind.
Even the dagger-sharp words, I had embedded them in my chest and caressed them countless times.
But now I despised pain. I was weary of ascribing special meaning to his trivial words and actions, only to be disappointed.
I was no longer a foolish adolescent girl, and I had been thoroughly awakened to the fact that Talia Roem Guerta meant nothing to him.
I exerted every ounce of strength not to cling to the firm arms that carefully lifted me, ruthlessly severing the budding sprouts of hope that desperately reached out.
The reason he treated me this way stemmed entirely from a sense of duty.
He was a man I had observed and analyzed for over a decade, dissecting in my mind hundreds of times. I understood well the principles by which he operated.
Separate from his disdain for Talia Roem Guerta, I was someone he needed to protect. Not as important as Gareth or Aila, but certainly not someone he could leave broken and shattered.
A man who lived to fulfill his obligations naturally felt indebted when he failed to discharge his duty.
“I shall prepare a meal.”
Barcas, who had entered the dimly lit barracks at some point, spoke as he laid her upon the bed.
Talia, lost in thought, lowered her eyes to her legs. The medicinal effects were already beginning to wear off, and a tingling sensation spread from her shins to her pelvis.
“Forget the food—light some incense instead.”
“After you eat.”
His firm voice echoed from above her head.
She forced her hazy eyes to focus and glared at him. But Barcas had already turned away, issuing instructions to an attendant.
She wanted to throw a pillow at that tiresome back, but her limbs felt heavy as waterlogged cotton, immobile. Eventually abandoning her anger, she buried her face in the blanket that carried the scent of sandalwood and mint leaves.
Shortly after, Barcas returned with a bowl of porridge. Talia reluctantly picked up a spoon. The very act of forcing something into her stomach felt arduous, but if she didn’t at least pretend to eat, this stubborn man would never permit her to burn incense.
Unable to bear the intensifying pain, she forced spoonfuls of the murky greenish substance laden with herbs into her mouth.
“Is that enough now?”
As she set down the half-emptied bowl as though discarding it, the man who had stood watching like a jailer examined the bowl as if conducting an inspection.
Talia added anxiously.
“I ate it. What more do you want from me!”
Barcas observed her face, beaded with cold sweat from the pain, for a moment before turning to order the Elderly Attendant to bring the incense burner.
Pale smoke once again invaded my consciousness. Feeling the pain gradually subside, I let my body go limp.
It was as though I had entered a cold cloud. The man’s presence, which had scraped at my nerves like a blade, gradually faded.
As I lay sprawled in that drowsy haze for some time, an unpleasant shadow caught my blurred vision.
I forced my unfocused eyes to concentrate and observed it carefully. The elegant silhouette of a woman backlit by the sunset blurred across my retina. Only a beat later did I recognize that figure as my noble half-sister.
I observed her rigid face as though examining a decorative piece in a cabinet. There was a faint crack visible on her perfectly sculpted porcelain face, as if something unpleasant had occurred.
A faint curiosity stirred within me. She was a woman who rarely lost her composure no matter how much I tormented her. What could possibly make her look so grim.
“I know you feel responsible for this situation. But you are my fiancé. Continuing to keep that child in your barracks is hardly appropriate….”
Aila’s soft voice penetrated my muffled ears as though they were filled with water.
I furrowed my brow. Her gently resonating voice bothered me more than the content of her words.
Did that woman always have to put on such airs, even when angry.
For someone like me who needed to expel every trace of emotional residue, it was a restraint I could never hope to imitate. Perhaps that was precisely why I hated Aila all the more.
The fact that this woman, who possessed virtues I could never even pretend to have, was my half-sister was abhorrent. Had I not been constantly forced into comparison with her, I might have despised Aila less.
She continued speaking.
“If you’re anxious about leaving that child alone, I shall take her to my quarters. Then you need not concern yourself any further….”
“Does anyone keep a serpent and a wildcat in the same cage?”
A weary, parched voice cut through the Princess’s words like a blade.
I shifted my gaze toward Barcas, who stood with one shoulder leaning against a tent pillar.
It was extraordinarily rare to see him, who always maintained an impeccable posture, resting his weight against something in such a manner. Had he been here the entire time while I was inhaling the medicine? If so, it was astonishing that he could still stand so composed. I myself had struggled merely to keep my eyelids open.
“Are you comparing me to such a contemptible beast right now?”
Aila’s voice grew slightly sharper.
I focused my gaze more intently, yearning to witness her face contort. Yet Barcas’s broad shoulders, now straightened, obscured her from view.
A cold voice resonated through the silence.
“It is painfully obvious what would transpire should the Second Princess reside in your quarters.”
He exhaled a quiet sigh, his tone tinged with bitter irony.
“Or perhaps you wish to witness the throats of all those handmaidens you cherish so dearly being slit?”
Aila’s lips sealed shut, as though her words had been stolen.
I stared at his silhouette, shrouded in deep shadow, my gaze vacant.
‘…So he was watching me all along. He kept me at his side to prevent me from causing further ruin.’
I had harbored no expectations from the beginning. Therefore, disappointment should have been impossible.
Yet why did I feel this ache blooming within me once more?
Disgusted with myself, I closed my eyes.
The moment I released the thread of consciousness I had been desperately clinging to, the grating noise faded in an instant, as though I were sinking into fathomless depths. I surrendered willingly to the embrace of oblivion.
* * *
For days, a suffocating heat had persisted relentlessly.
For those tasked with transporting dozens of corpses, it was nothing short of catastrophe.
To forestall decay, purifying salt and dried herbs were packed into the body cavities, and myrrh and lacquer were applied to the ashen, desiccated skin. Yet with each passing day, a peculiar stench emanated from the coffins.
Naturally, the faces of those marching grew contorted with revulsion. Leaning against the window frame, observing the procession, I suddenly recalled how I had prayed for this column to lead toward hell itself when departing the Imperial Palace.
Had the Divine heard my prayer?
Or had I been punished instead?
As I massaged my throbbing knees, lost in such thoughts, a whistle sounded from afar.
I narrowed my eyes against the glare and peered beyond the hill. Beneath the gentle slope bathed in the sun’s fierce rays, gray City Walls rose imposingly into view.
The wretched and desolate journey that had seemed eternal had finally reached its end.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————