The Forgotten Field - Chapter 68

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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 68
Talia picked at the hangnail beside her fingernail.
A bead of sweat formed on her forehead and trickled slowly down her temple.
Barcas grasped her shoulder and slowly turned her to face him. I felt his long, firm fingers cradle one cheek.
Talia couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze and fixed her eyes on his chin instead. Then his face descended toward mine.
Surprisingly warm and soft lips brushed lightly against the corner of my mouth before withdrawing.
It was a kiss as gentle as a breeze—merely the bare minimum of contact, performed out of formality.
That fleeting touch, scarcely deserving the name of a kiss, seemed to shred my heart into fragments.
“With this, I declare all ceremonies concluded.”
The High Priest’s final pronouncement was followed by the formal sound of applause echoing through the chapel.
Talia looked up at him with trembling eyes. His expressionless face, utterly inscrutable, studied me intently.
What was he searching for so relentlessly?
Barcas, whose piercing gaze had been dissecting her, turned toward the assembled guests. Talia finally released the breath she’d been holding.
He guided her through the crowd with his arm encircling her waist.
Ghostly faces passed by between their slow, measured steps.
Gareth with his eyes gleaming ominously, the Emperor appearing troubled, Senevir wearing a satisfied smile—countless shadows flowed like a river, and soon a dark sky scattering rain revealed itself before my eyes.
“Bring me my coat.”
Barcas, having stopped at the chapel entrance, addressed the Knight standing in attendance.
The Knight immediately offered the outer garment draped over his arm.
Barcas placed it over her shoulders, then bent slightly and lifted her body with one arm, supporting her effortlessly.
Talia hastily threw her arms around his neck to avoid falling backward. Soft hair carrying the scent of fragrant soap brushed against the tip of my nose.
He cradled her back lightly with one hand and began walking slowly into the rain.
Talia watched as silver raindrops shimmered across his face, then turned her gaze toward the Garden, now shrouded in ominous shadow.
“…Where are we going?”
“I have arranged a Temporary Residence outside the Imperial Palace.”
He replied leisurely as he continued walking.
“We will stay there until we depart for the Eastern Territories.”
Talia’s expression grew confused.
Was this truly how a wedding was meant to end?
Senevir had surely prepared a grand wedding banquet. The entire Imperial Palace had been abuzz for days with preparations—adorning the Banquet Hall and arranging the feast.
There would be guests who had come to see him. Could they simply abandon all of this and leave on a whim?
“We have done what was required. There is no reason for us to remain as spectacles any longer.”
His voice, tinged with coldness, drew her consciousness back to reality.
He was right.
This marriage was nothing more than vulgar gossip.
A crippled illegitimate Princess, a bride switched at the altar, a pitiful groom transformed overnight from an object of envy to one of pity—
I could imagine without hearing what would be said about them.
Barcas had no reason to endure such humiliation. Even the Emperor himself could not demand such sacrifice from the man who would become the ruler of the Eastern Territories.
He passed through a muddy path and stopped before a carriage bearing the crest of House Sierkan. The Elderly Attendant sitting on the driver’s seat rushed over and opened the door.
Barcas climbed inside and set her down upon the seat lined with thick cushions.
I stared at Barcas, who had become drenched in what felt like mere moments, with unfamiliar eyes.
Barcas, sitting across from me, loosened his formal attire that constricted his neck and exhaled a long, weary breath.
Water droplets clinging to his hair traced down his straight forehead, collecting at the corners of his eyes. His gaze, though glistening with moisture, felt parched as it fixed directly upon me.
“How are your legs feeling?”
My lips twitched.
His excessive concern for my legs irritated me.
Gareth’s mocking voice echoed in my ears—how he had ridiculed me for occupying his seat beside Barcas because of one damaged leg.
I bit the tender flesh inside my mouth.
I know.
I understand. So why do you keep reminding me?
“They’re perfectly intact and attached, so stop worrying about it.”
As I snapped irritably, his eyes narrowed slightly.
I turned my head toward the window to escape that piercing gaze. But wet fingers immediately turned my head back.
“I asked if there was any pain.”
My shoulders stiffened at his clipped tone, but only briefly before I roughly swatted his hand away.
“Does it make you feel better if I say I’m fine?”
“….”
“But here’s the thing—since that day, there hasn’t been a single day without pain.”
I stared through his mask-like expression and spoke with the venom of a wasp striking with its stinger.
“So stop scratching at my nerves with pointless questions. It’s annoying.”
The warm, gentle lips that had touched me grew cold and pressed shut.
I had silenced him with harsh words, yet it was I who felt my throat tighten in his silence. I bit my parched lips irritably.
Still, cold indifference was better than pity. The lukewarm kindness that poured down upon me since my legs became like this—nothing was more unbearable.
To hide my anxiety, I deliberately spoke with irritation.
“Why aren’t we leaving? Are you planning to spend the night here with me?”
Barcas, who had been watching me intently, soon shifted his body and lightly tapped the carriage wall.
Moments later, the sound of reins cracking echoed, and the carriage began to move forward slowly.
I gazed out through the fogged window at the rain-soaked Garden. The unfamiliar landscape—a place that had never once been my home—slid swiftly past the curtain.
As I stared blankly at it, suddenly my body lifted, and soft cushions pressed against my back.
I looked up in surprise.
Barcas, who had laid me on the spacious carriage seat, reached behind the backrest and withdrew a cloak embroidered with the Roem Knights’ insignia, draping it over my body.
“We have a long journey ahead. Try to get some rest in the meantime.”
I reached to throw it off. But Barcas was faster.
He grasped my hand and pressed it down onto the seat. Then, looking down at my eyes, still hazed by lingering medication, he spoke in the rough tone he had occasionally used in his teenage years, issuing a threat.
“Don’t be stubborn. Sleep. Don’t keep your eyes unfocused and disturb my peace.”
At his threatening tone, my back flinched, but I quickly pulled his cloak up to my nose. Barcas, gazing down at me quietly, sighed wearily and settled back into the opposite seat.
For some reason, I felt like crying.
I buried my face in the fabric of his cloak, which carried his scent, and closed my eyes.
* * *
At some point, I seemed to have drifted off to sleep.
Talia noticed the carriage’s jolting sway come to an abrupt halt. She cradled her throbbing forehead in one hand and rubbed her gritty eyes.
As she forced her eyes open, the empty interior of the carriage filled her vision. Blinking dazedly, Talia suddenly jerked upright, her upper body tensing. Her frightened gaze searched for Barcas when a rough voice laced with metallic sounds drifted in from outside.
“What are your intentions regarding the First Princess, Your Highness?”
Talia stiffened her shoulders and pressed herself against the window. Beyond the glass, beaded with droplets, the evening sky emerged now that the rain had ceased. Beneath that reddish twilight, a massive stone building of crude design stood alongside roughly a dozen men.
Finding Barcas among them proved effortless. The man silhouetted against the sunset spoke with dry precision.
“What’s your intent in asking?”
“Do you truly intend to abandon him like this…?”
“That’s a strange thing to say.”
Sharp mockery cut through the humid, moisture-laden air.
“Our betrothal was never meant to counter the Empress, was it?”
“….”
“There are methods to protect them both beyond marriage alone.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
Confusion crept into the man’s voice. Yet Barcas showed no inclination to elaborate.
He cut off the Knight’s words with visible irritation.
“Am I in a position to be interrogated by you?”
“I-I apologize. I overstepped my bounds.”
The man hastily bowed his head.
Barcas looked down at him with cold eyes, then spoke in a flat tone.
“Nothing changes. Continue monitoring the Empress’s movements as you have been. And should the Crown Prince attempt anything reckless, report to me immediately.”
“Understood.”
With that, Barcas turned away as if the conversation had concluded.
Talia hastily laid her head on the seat. But before she could even feign sleep beneath her cloak, the carriage door opened and Barcas appeared.
Talia looked up at him with frozen eyes.

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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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