The Forgotten Field - Chapter 78

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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 78
At his casual response, Talia’s eyes narrowed sharply.
She couldn’t tell if he was brushing her off because he found the argument tedious, or if he genuinely didn’t care what she wore and was simply acquiescing. There was no way to know.
As Talia dissected his expressionless face, her own countenance fell flat with exasperation.
“Sometimes being around you makes me feel like my head’s about to explode.”
Even at this sudden provocation, he showed no particular reaction.
The lengthening silence only made her more anxious.
Talia pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned away from him.
“Now get out.”
“I will leave after I see you take your medicine.”
“I’m not taking it, so leave.”
“I will depart only after you take the medicine and I confirm you are well.”
“I said I’m not taking it!”
As she turned back to face him with flushed cheeks, pale eyes glimmering with golden light ensnared her gaze.
He dragged a chair beside the bed and sat down, speaking with deliberate slowness.
“If you continue to be stubborn, I will make you take it by force.”
Talia’s body went rigid with tension.
Suddenly, memories of their wedding night came flooding back, ransacking her mind.
Confused recollections—ones where she still couldn’t distinguish dream from reality—replayed vividly in her consciousness.
Was Barcas remembering that night as well?
Perspiration beaded above her upper lip.
Unable to bear the strange tension permeating the chamber, Talia awkwardly changed the subject.
“Did you drink?”
“A little.”
He leaned back against the chair with indifferent nonchalance.
Talia, watching him with wary eyes, spoke with a sharper tone than usual.
“If you’re drunk, go wash up and sleep in your own room instead of coming to someone else’s chamber and making a scene.”
“I haven’t drunk enough to be intoxicated. They made such a grand fuss with the welcome ceremony that I merely humored them a little.”
He responded dismissively, then removed the ornaments wound around his arm as if they were bothersome, placing them on a shelf.
Talia, watching him intently, asked carefully.
“Why didn’t you scold me for not showing my face at all?”
“Who would scold you?”
Suddenly, a furrow appeared between his brows.
“Your Highness holds the highest rank in this castle. There is no one here whose opinion you need to concern yourself with.”
“I wasn’t concerned about anyone’s opinion. I was just curious and asked.”
Talia grumbled and glared at him.
It was somewhat galling to hear such words from a man who had never properly treated her as a Princess.
Just as she was about to retort, a knock sounded at the door.
“Young Master, I have brought the medicine.”
“Come in.”
Shortly after, the door opened and a petite Handmaiden stepped into the chamber.
Barcas took the medicine bottle from her hands and promptly ushered the Handmaiden back out.
Talia watched the vial in his grip with a tense expression.
Her stomach twisted inexplicably.
She swallowed hard against her raw throat, and he held the bottle up before her eyes, shaking it gently.
“Drink it.”
Talia’s gaze flickered between the small azure glass vial and his face.
If she refused to drink it, would he force his lips upon hers again, as he had that night?
The unbidden thought made her heart clench painfully.
As she averted her eyes without finding an answer, he leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.
“You won’t drink it?”
Her face burned as though consumed by flame.
If she continued to refuse, he would surely see through her completely—read every secret thought in her heart.
With trembling hands, she snatched the medicine bottle from him.
“Fine, I’ll drink it.”
Defiantly, she uncorked the stopper and poured the potent herbal extract into her mouth.
The bitter liquid seared her tongue and scraped down her throat like fire.
Talia’s eyes welled with tears as she coughed violently. It was the most bitter medicine she had ever tasted.
“What kind of medicine is this?”
“A remedy prepared by House Sierkan’s Healer.”
He poured a cup of apple wine from a decanter on the shelf and handed it to her.
“From now on, the Healer here will attend to you exclusively.”
Talia accepted the cup and drank the sweet liquid desperately, then glared at him in disbelief.
“By whose authority? I already have a dedicated Healer—a master sorcerer trained by the Taren Family who has been caring for me all this time….”
“That Healer does little more than burn sleeping herbs and cast recovery spells. With such limited treatment, your condition will never improve.”
Talia’s eyes flashed with fury.
The Healer currently attending to me was a skilled practitioner carefully selected by Senevir herself.
Did this Khan shaman, who knew only ancient rituals at best, truly believe he could compare to the Taren Family Mage? Or did he harbor some other hidden agenda?
Regarding him with suspicion, Talia spoke coldly.
“No. I will continue to receive treatment from the sorcerer my mother appointed. How can I trust these people? They all despise me—that much is obvious….”
His jaw tightened.
“Why do you believe that?”
“Do you think I’m a fool? House Sierkan supports the Crown Prince. There’s no way you could welcome me, who displaced Aila and married you instead.”
Talia spoke with bitter sarcasm.
“Who knows? Perhaps you’re planning to poison me.”
“Talia Roem Sierkan.”
His soft voice scraped against her eardrums with an unsettling chill.
Talia’s shoulders tensed. More than the unfamiliar surname appended to her name, the warning implicit in his quiet tone froze her thoughts.
He continued with measured precision.
“I’ve resolved to indulge most of your whims. But do not cross the line.”
His cold tone ignited her temper like kindling.
She hurled the goblet she held directly at him.
“Did I ask you to indulge my moods?”
The sticky apple wine drenched his chest in a dark stain.
A terrible silence descended upon the room.
Barcas exhaled a long breath and slowly rose to his feet.
Talia startled in alarm and huddled into the corner of the bed. Barcas gazed at her cowering form and shook his head slowly.
“Why do you act so frightened?”
Talia’s face flushed with shame.
He brushed away the liquid trickling down his chest with casual indifference and continued matter-of-factly.
“No amount of temper tantrums will change this matter. Beginning tomorrow, a new Healer will monitor your condition.”
“I made it perfectly clear I don’t want this!”
He paid her no mind and walked toward the bedroom door.
Talia raised her voice at his retreating back.
“You liar! You said I’m the highest-ranking person in this castle! So why do you do whatever you please?”
“Regardless of others, a wife must listen to her husband.”
Barcas paused at the doorway and turned to face her, speaking as one might to a stubborn child.
“I listen well enough, don’t I?”
With that, he deliberately removed his loose outer coat and draped it over one arm.
Talia stared at him with her mouth agape.
He grasped the door handle and added calmly.
“Now, get some rest. You’ll need several days of proper sleep to recover from your exhaustion.”
Talia belatedly came to her senses and threw a pillow at him, but he had already left the chamber.
She gazed down at the crumpled fabric scattered across the floor with a helpless expression, then collapsed back onto the bed.
Why did it feel so unfair that this marriage had become a source of torment—not for him, but for her?
* * *
The following morning, Talia awoke feeling remarkably refreshed.
Having slept nearly the entire day, her legs ached far less than usual.
Rubbing her drowsy eyes, Talia rose from the bed and gazed out the window at the brilliant azure sky, then rang the bell beside her bed.
Shortly after, a stern-faced middle-aged woman and a much younger Handmaiden entered the chamber together.
“Good morning, Your Highness. Please forgive our late introduction.”
The older woman spoke first.
“I am Areta, overseer of all the Handmaidens in this castle. This is Brisa, your personal attendant going forward.”
As Areta pulled the bewildered Handmaiden’s arm, the girl named Brisa hastily bowed her head.

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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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