The Forgotten Field - Chapter 7

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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 7
His hands were remarkably pale—nearly as white as her own. And they possessed an elegance and beauty that took her breath away.
Talia had been about to reach toward him without thinking when she felt the bird cradled in her palm flutter its wings in alarm, causing her to hastily shake her head.
“I can’t. I’m holding something right now.”
Beneath the rain-soaked hood hanging limply around his face, she could see the boy’s eyes narrow.
His gaze descended to her hands clasped against her chest.
“Is it important?”
Talia hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.
“It’s not important.”
“Then throw it away.”
“Even if it’s not important, I can’t just discard it.”
At her defiant words, a crease formed between the boy’s smooth brows. He seemed to be growing irritated. The thought crossed her mind that he might simply abandon her and leave.
But the boy did something that contradicted his cold demeanor entirely. He bent before her and effortlessly scooped her mud-and-rain-covered form into his arms.
Talia let out a small cry of surprise. The boy then wrapped his arms firmly around her struggling back and spoke flatly.
“Stay still.”
Talia immediately obeyed his command.
While she carefully loosened her grip to avoid injuring the bird nestled in her palm, he moved his legs with practiced ease, ascending the slippery slope as if it were nothing. His gait was as nimble as a cat’s.
Yet despite his agility and speed in escaping the mire, his clothes could not escape being soiled. He looked down at his mud-stained trousers, boots, and the hem of his robe, his brow furrowing.
“This is the worst.”
“…Since you helped me, I’ll compensate you. I can buy you something far more expensive than what you’re wearing now. Actually, I’m the daughter of someone quite extraordinary. I’ll make sure to tell my attendants to give you a generous reward.”
Though she meant well, he seemed offended by her words.
The boy took a few more steps to avoid the mounds of earth piled around the Pit, then spoke flatly.
“For something so small, you certainly have a lot of nerve.”
Talia’s face flushed. Under normal circumstances, she would have slapped the impertinent boy across the face. No one dared speak to the Emperor’s daughter in such a manner.
Yet for some reason, she found herself unable to say anything. Though the cold rain continued to strike her forehead and cheeks relentlessly, her face burned as if aflame.
The boy stopped beneath a Large Tree that Senevir had failed to uproot. At that moment, the bird let out a faint cry.
As the boy bent to set her down, he paused and let his gaze fall to her hands clasped against her chest.
“What are you holding?”
So he had finally become curious.
She hesitated briefly before carefully opening her hands to reveal it.
“A bird?”
He murmured with skepticism.
Understandably so. With mud caked onto its pathetic wings hanging limply and its pink flesh exposed, the tiny chick looked far more like a sewer rat than a bird.
Talia’s cheeks flushed red. The bird was appallingly ugly, yet somehow she felt diminished by its appearance.
“It fell into the muddy water. Originally it was…”
Perhaps more beautiful.
She stopped herself from finishing. The skeletal brown bird probably had never been particularly beautiful to begin with. It was merely a common sparrow, the sort one might see anywhere.
Yet the boy seemed inclined to show kindness to this wretched, ugly creature.
Supporting her with one arm, he drew her hand holding the bird toward the inside of his hood.
Talia’s eyes widened. The skin beneath her fingertips was warm, like the glow of a fireplace. The bird, seeking warmth, pressed itself tightly against the boy’s collarbone.
“Your fingers are ice-cold. How long were you standing out there?”
The boy, who had been gazing down at the bird cradled beneath his chin, turned his head toward her. In doing so, Talia found herself face-to-face with his blue eyes, nestled beneath dark lashes heavy with rainwater.
His eyes, observed at such proximity, were remarkably peculiar. They resembled a clear winter sky scattered with tiny fragments of silver.
Talia, transfixed by that gaze, murmured without thinking.
“There it is… a silver crown within your eyes.”
The boy’s eyes widened slightly.
His lips parted as though to speak, then closed again. Talia realized that this nameless boy was studying her eyes with equal intensity.
What did he discover within my gaze?
As Talia entertained such thoughts, a familiar voice echoed from the distance.
“Young lady!”
It was the Nursemaid.
She had not yet grown accustomed to addressing Talia by her proper title, and had been scolded repeatedly by her mother and the other attendants for her slip. Yet the habit persisted. Her urgent voice reverberated through the distance like an echo.
“I… I have to go now.”
Talia whispered the words softly. For reasons she could not fathom, she despised saying them. Perhaps this boy, too, found them unbearable to hear.
He stood motionless for a long moment before reluctantly lowering her to the ground with deliberate slowness.
As his arms withdrew from her, Talia felt a penetrating chill seep into her very bones. Only then did she truly comprehend how warm his embrace had been.
After a moment’s hesitation, she extended the small bird toward him.
“Will you take care of it?”
Because my hands are far too cold, and you are warm.
Before she could voice such thoughts, he bent down and carefully accepted the bird. He then held it against his pale, plaster-white cheek, drawing his hood forward to shield it from the rain.
Talia, gazing up at him, asked softly.
“Will that bird… survive?”
“…Yes.”
His blue eyes, holding that silver crown, lingered upon her face for a prolonged moment.
“It will survive.”
Though his expression remained impassive, Talia somehow sensed that he was smiling.
She turned and began to run through the rain-drenched Garden.
After racing past uprooted rose bushes and shrubs, past earthen mounds that resembled small graves, she found herself drawn to glance back, and there he stood—motionless beneath the Large Tree.
Why did he not leave?
Perhaps he was waiting for the rain to ease.
Perhaps he was watching me depart.
Talia was suddenly seized by an irresistible impulse to return to him. She longed to shelter from the rain beside him, to sit together before a warm hearth and watch the bird recover its strength.
But as she hesitated, the Nursemaid abruptly burst forth from within the building. Her round face was flushed crimson from her prolonged search.
“Where on earth have you been! Do you have any idea how desperately Senevir has been searching for you?”
The Nursemaid seized her hand firmly and dragged her forcefully into the Annex Building.
“And what is this state you’re in! You must meet with the Emperor soon, yet you’ve soiled your clothes so terribly!”
“…I fell while taking a walk.”
“In weather like this, you take a walk? Unbelievable!”
The Nursemaid exclaimed in exasperation and began striding purposefully toward the corridor connecting to the Separate Palace.
Talia was pulled along, nearly dragged by that grip, and glanced back over her shoulder. But his figure was no longer visible.

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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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