The Forgotten Field - Chapter 87
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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 87
She gazed at the pile of garments heaped upon the chair, then let her eyes drift downward to the legs wrapped beneath her skirts.
This morning, the moment I opened my eyes, the Nursemaid attended to my bath, and then I summoned the Healer to rewrap my bandages. There would be no occasion for them to see my scars.
Talia, whose lips had been pressed into a thin line, nodded at last.
“Do as you see fit.”
The moment her permission fell, the Handmaidens erected a screen in the center of the chamber. Talia stood behind it like a beast being led to slaughter. A young Handmaiden approached and slipped away my thin robe, then unfastened the buttons of my summer dress one by one. Soon the voluminous garment slid down and pooled at my feet.
Talia noticed the Handmaiden’s breath catch suddenly and reflexively examined my undergarment. The twisted outline of my deformed leg was faintly visible through the thin fabric. Feeling my ears burn with humiliation, I snapped at her.
“Don’t stand there gawking—finish quickly!”
The frozen Handmaiden hurried to fetch the garments. Unable to bear her clumsy movements, the Head Handmaiden pushed her aside and dressed me herself in a creamy silk gown.
The delicate hem, gathered with fine pleats, flowed down my body like mist. The Head Handmaiden then draped a translucent gray-blue overlay across it, and fastened an ornate embroidered sash around my waist.
The double-layered silk belt was adorned with jade, topaz, and small animal-shaped ornaments. Once she cinched it snugly to reveal my waistline, she draped colorful cords studded with metal bells and tassels across my hips.
The adornment did not end there. Various jewels strung on fine gold thread were layered around my neck and wrists, and large earrings engraved with golden bird motifs hung from my earlobes.
I felt like a jeweled display case. Could such an ostentatious ensemble truly be the traditional dress of the Eastern Territories? As I frowned in doubt, a Handmaiden draping a wide-sleeved indigo silk coat over my shoulders let out a sigh of admiration.
“You look just like the legendary Tiramere.”
“Tiramere?”
At the unfamiliar word, I narrowed my brow, and the Handmaiden’s face went pale as she clamped her mouth shut. Her suspicious reaction dampened my mood. Was she perhaps mocking me as a fool?
Perhaps she was taking advantage of my ignorance to ridicule me.
I pressed her sharply.
“What is that? Why did you stop speaking?”
“Tiramere is….”
“Tiramere is the earth spirit who governs the seasons.”
The Head Handmaiden, pulling the front edges of the silk coat diagonally, secured the flowing hem with a brooch as she spoke.
“The ancient people of the Eastern Territories believed themselves to be descendants of Tiramere. She is regarded as the most beautiful and noble of all spirits in this land.”
Talia regarded the Head Handmaiden’s composed face with suspicious eyes.
“Then you should have said so. Why did you turn so pale?”
“Brisa was concerned that Your Highness might misunderstand us as truly believing in that legend.”
The Head Handmaiden, who had arranged the coat’s front panels to drape naturally, straightened her posture as she answered.
“The tale of Tiramere is merely an ancient oral tradition. I would hope Your Highness would not doubt our faith.”
Talia stared intently at the Head Handmaiden’s rigid face. A faint tension hovered over her elongated features. I could not tell whether she was deceiving me or whether she feared being branded a heretic.
I turned my head and finally faced the mirror I had long avoided. Upon its smooth surface, surrounded by deep shadow, was reflected a face disturbingly similar to the Empress.
Yet upon that exquisite face lay not the explosive vitality that Senevir possessed, but rather a gloomy ashen shadow. Hungry eyes that seemed to starve for something, a gaunt face, a wretched body far removed from Senevir’s sensual form that had once achieved perfect balance….
Suddenly, Gareth’s mocking voice echoed in my ears.
‘A woman’s face attached to a monster’s body….’
My face, which had clumsily mimicked the Empress, twisted pitifully. It was agonizing to witness my own form—incomplete and ruined.
I turned my body away roughly.
“If you’re finished, step aside! How much longer will you keep fussing?”
When I brushed away the hands arranging my hair somewhat harshly, the Handmaiden standing behind me flinched and retreated.
The Head Handmaiden released a small sigh.
“I shall place the crown upon your head. Please bear with me just a moment longer.”
A waiting Handmaiden immediately brought forth the golden circlet. Once the Head Handmaiden placed it upon my head, she rolled my long hair into a neat coil and secured it with a jade-adorned ornament.
At last, when all the preparations were complete, the Handmaidens stepped back and bowed respectfully.
“I shall now escort you to the Grand Duke’s Chambers.”
The Head Handmaiden moved toward the door as she spoke. Talia watched her with anxious eyes for a moment before following in her wake.
The Corridor was lined with dozens of Soldiers standing at attention. As I carefully navigated between them, a distinct limping sound echoed through the passage.
Though I tried my best to walk naturally, my rigid legs betrayed my will as they always did.
I held my head high, determined not to show my shame.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, the Head Handmaiden came to a halt.
“This is the Chamber.”
She gestured toward a large door positioned across from the staircase.
It appeared the Grand Duke’s Chambers were located on the same floor. Relieved that I wouldn’t have to climb the stairs, Talia approached the imposing mahogany door.
“I have brought the Princess.”
The Head Handmaiden announced formally, and a stern voice emerged from within the room.
“Enter.”
The Head Handmaiden immediately obeyed. As the Handmaidens opened the doors simultaneously from both sides, a vast space filled with attendants was revealed.
Talia stiffened as dozens of pairs of eyes fell upon her. The impeccably dressed men gazed at her with expressions of shock.
A chill ran down my spine.
Had something gone wrong with my appearance? I examined my clothing. Perhaps they had dressed me carelessly as a jest, deceiving me with claims of Eastern Territories traditional attire before making me look like a fool. Perhaps I was adorned like a court jester.
I glared at the Head Handmaiden as if I could tear her face apart. Then, suddenly worried that my legs might be visible beneath the hem, I lowered my eyes again.
Nothing was visible except the voluminous folds of the dress. Yet from the front, the deformed shape of my legs might still be apparent.
Cold sweat trickled down my spine. Talia’s eyes darted about as if she wanted to flee at any moment.
Then, heavy footsteps sounded. Talia’s head jerked up, and her eyes widened as she saw Barcas approaching her.
He too wore attire similar to hers. A black silk tunic with a subtle sheen, an ornate belt embroidered with intricate gold patterns, and a wide diagonal cloak that flowed elegantly along the lines of his muscular frame.
As Talia traced over his form as if entranced, she felt warm fingers touch her chin, and she lifted her gaze.
Large earrings adorned with blue gemstones and a necklace laden with dangling topaz caught the sunlight and sparkled brilliantly.
In that instant, my heart sank.
It was the first time I had seen him adorned with so many jewels. This was the man who had always dressed more ascetically than any High Priest.
Lavishly adorned, Barcas looked not like a Knight of the Roem Empire, but like the ruler of an ancient barbaric tribe.
“Are your legs perhaps in pain?” Barcas asked, his tone heavy as he scrutinized her.
Talia, barely regaining her senses, knocked his hand away and stepped back. It felt as though the violent pounding of her heart would reach his ears.
“No, I’m fine.”
Though I tried to feign composure, my cheeks burned as if set ablaze. His blue eyes descended upon that flushed face.
Barcas furrowed his brow and pressed his hand to her forehead.
“You’re running a fever again….”
“I told you I’m fine!”
“You said it was fine!”
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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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