The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 11, 12
C11, 12
## Chapter 11
After that day, Talia was barely able to eat a single bite. She simply could not trust what might be hidden inside the food.
Her nanny began to grow frustrated, not knowing the reason; she only thought Talia was becoming spoiled. Without giving any explanations, Talia survived on the fruits and honey that her nanny brought her from time to time as a snack. Loneliness and isolation were no longer the problem. In the most splendid and luxurious place in the world, she found herself forced to fight against starvation.
Some days, when the hunger was unbearable, she reluctantly touched the meals the servants brought her. But always, without fail, there was something disgusting hidden inside: insects, rats, or, sometimes, tangled clumps of hair whose owner she could not begin to imagine. After suffering this on several occasions, she found herself unable to put absolutely anything into her mouth. In a matter of weeks, she had become pitifully thin.
By then, even her oblivious nanny seemed to realize that something was wrong. She immediately sought out the Empress and caused a great uproar, claiming that her only daughter was going to die. Thanks to this, Talia was able to see her mother’s face for the first time in months.
—How on earth did you end up like this?
That was the first thing Senevier said when she finally visited the separate palace, after having acted as if she had forgotten the very existence of her daughter.
Talia, fragile and broken as she was, looked at her mother, radiant as a summer flower, and felt her eyes burn. That bright and guilt-free face only caused her heart to ignite with fury. She had intended to scream at her, to demand how she could be so selfish, how she could think only of herself. But when she opened her mouth, what poured out was a sob.
She cried like a child, sobbing while pouring out everything that had happened. The gruesome acts committed by the servants, the cruel ordeals she had endured… she confessed everything from beginning to end. Senevier only sat on the edge of the bed, listening in silence until the story was finished.
Talia thought her silence meant she was suppressing her rage, that she had been left speechless by what her only daughter had suffered. So she shook her arm urgently, demanding:
—Mother! Make them stop tormenting me! You must act immediately so that no one can ever hurt me again!
—Why should I?
Senevier tilted her head with a look of curiosity.
The unexpected response left Talia stupefied. Her mother’s face reflected pure perplexity, as if she truly could not understand why a mistreated child would come to her looking for protection.
—Talia, this palace is yours. The servants of this palace are your belongings. You are already nine years old. If you cannot even manage your own property properly, how can you come whining to your mother?
Talia was left completely speechless. Senevier cradled her cheek with one hand and sighed, as if she were genuinely disappointed.
—You are the Emperor’s daughter. I really cannot understand why a daughter of mine would have to passively suffer at the hands of some nobodies. It is almost shameful to think that my daughter could be so clumsy and weak.
—M-Mother…
Senevier contemplated the candle by the window with a thoughtful expression. Her face, of a chilling beauty, did not show the slightest trace of anger over the abuse her daughter had suffered; only a slight disappointment and annoyance, alongside the deliberation of how to best enlighten a foolish child. For Talia, it was like facing an insect with a human form.
After a long silence, Senevier snapped her fingers.
—Let’s do this. I will leave you a suitable guard. A man I have trained thoroughly for a long time. If you know how to handle him correctly, he will be quite useful to you.
She stood up, as if that settled the matter. Talia clung to her skirts in desperation.
—I don’t want a person like that! I just want to be with you, Mother!
At that cry from the heart, for an instant an expression of disgust crossed Senevier’s face. Talia turned pale from the shock. Her mother detached her fingers one by one and leaned down, clicking her tongue in pity.
—Talia, all of this started because of me. However, do you know why no one ever puts rats in my soup?
Talia froze like a mouse before a snake, unable to answer. Senevier continued softly:
—Why my bathwater is always warm and scented, why my table is always overflowing with food… why no one even thinks of doing to me what they do to you. Do you want me to tell you the secret?
Her blood-red lips brushed her daughter’s ear.
—It is because they fear me. That fear, on its own, prevents them from daring to do such things. Some even idolize me. Of course, there are countless others who despise and abhor me. However, even they treat me as something to be wary of, not as someone to bully. Because I am a very dangerous being.
Her gaze locked onto her daughter’s eyes. In them, Talia glimpsed something coiled and dishonest, like a shadowy creature lying in wait. Senevier drew herself up and gave her final piece of advice:
—Remember this. Strength and beauty become objects of fear and admiration. But beauty without strength is always an object of plunder. Especially here in the imperial palace. If you do not want to be trampled pitilessly by the many beasts that will target you, at the very least you must never let them see that you are weak.
With that she left, turning her back on her fragile and broken daughter.
That night, Talia turned her mother’s words over and over in her mind. The weak are trampled. And Senevier did not have the slightest intention of protecting her weak daughter.
So this must be the feeling of a defeated soldier abandoned by the last bastion. She trembled with fear, terrified of the even greater horrors that might be to come. Even if a harsher treatment awaited her, no one would protect her. Not when even her mother turned her back on her. Would His Majesty the Emperor even spare a glance for an illegitimate daughter who was nothing more than a stain to him?
Curled up under her blanket, she bit her nails with anxious dread. She evoked in her mind the feet of the servants moving around her when she had vomited on the dining room floor. Those indifferent feet passing right by her prone and miserable figure… It was easy to imagine them trampling her like a worthless insect.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Her mother was right: sooner or later, they would crush her to pieces. And all of this had happened because she herself had marked herself as a sinner. It had been her fault that had made her weak.
When she began to act as if she deserved whatever they did to her, the servants had instinctively sensed that she would not resist. In her hunched posture, in her timid gaze, in her hesitant words, they had seen weakness… and they had become increasingly cruel.
Finally, when dawn broke, Talia knew clearly what she had to do.
——————-
## THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) – Chapter 12
She got out of bed and stood in front of the mirror, contemplating her gaunt reflection for a long time.
“I look exactly like that sewer rat that was floating in my stew.”
The thought made her let out a fragile giggle just as the maid who dressed her every morning entered the room.
“You are up early, Your Highness. Please, come. I will help you wash up.”
“It is not necessary.”
Her icy response made the maid’s sharp eyes narrow slightly. Looking down at Talia with an air of superiority, the woman began to reprimand her.
“Your Highness has a duty, by the laws of the imperial family, to maintain perfect behavior at all times. Those childish refusals are…”
“Nanny!”
The sharp shout made the maid startle and shut up. Talia brushed past her and violently shook the bell next to her bed.
“Nanny! Nanny!”
Moments later, her nanny, half asleep, crossed the adjoining door in a hurry and dazed. Talia pointed at her with imperious authority.
“From now on, my nanny will take care of my washing. Mother herself gave her permission yesterday. You may leave.”
“But…”
“Are you saying you are going to defy the Empress’s orders?”
At Talia’s sharp retort, the maid—who had been watching her in disbelief—left the room without protest. She seemed to have no intention of fighting just over the fact of helping to dress Talia.
Talia then turned to her sleepy nanny, who was rubbing her puffy eyes and suppressing a yawn.
“You heard me just now, right? From today on, your job is to wash me and dress me. Wake up and do it right.”
“Yes, my lady…” the nanny replied reluctantly, yawning widely.
Talia’s hand shot out, slapping her round cheek mercilessly. The startled nanny looked at her in dismay. Talia mimicked the look her mother used to give when her anger reached its peak.
“How many times do I have to tell you to address me as ‘Your Highness’?”
The nanny’s brown eyes snapped wide open. Talia held her gaze, grinding out each word with deliberate emphasis.
“From now on, call me ‘Your Highness’. If you call me ‘my lady’ again, you will receive a slap.”
Still bewildered, the nanny began to fumble with the preparations, hurriedly helping Talia to wash and dress. It took hours; the nanny’s hands were slow and clumsy. By the time she finished, Talia—who had eaten almost nothing in weeks—felt she might faint from weakness. Even so, she straightened her back with pride and left her chamber.
A man dressed in black was waiting in the hallway, his face shadowed and stern. Talia tensed upon seeing a stranger stationed in front of her door, but then she remembered her mother’s words. That spectral man must be the “useful guard” she had mentioned. She gave him a brief nod of her head, signaling him to follow her, and walked with a firm step toward the dining room.
Several servants, who clearly had been waiting too long for her to appear, cast sour glances at her. Talia ignored them and sat at the opposite end of the long table. With a haughty gesture, she raised her chin.
“Bring the food.”
Although reluctantly, the servants finally brought the dishes under the supervision of a mature maid in her mid-thirties. Following her instructions, the silver trays were arranged in order and, at last, a bowl of soup was placed in front of Talia.
She stared at the murky broth, full of beans and meat. On the surface it looked normal, but she knew better. She dipped the spoon and stirred the creamy thickness until scraping the bottom. The limp body of a sparrow emerged, its neck twisted and its eyes rotten. Thin white maggots wriggled out of the bird’s empty sockets.
Her stomach churned and bile rose to her throat. But Talia forced her expression to maintain a cold composure. She raised her gaze to the maid who had supervised the food.
“You. Sit here.”
The woman froze at the sudden command, and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but I have a lot to do.”
She turned around, with the clear intention of leaving. Usually, she stayed nearby after serving the meals, as if enjoying Talia’s reaction. The fact that she was running away today indicated to Talia that the woman sensed danger.
Talia jumped to her feet, grabbed a brass teapot from the table and, with all her strength, smashed it against the maid’s head. Even a child’s blow, if wielding solid metal, has enough force to cause damage. The woman shrieked and collapsed onto the carpet.
Everyone in the room froze: maids, footmen, all struck dumb by the impact. Some gasped, others covered their mouths in horror. Talia, unmoved, pointed with her chin toward the dark figure that remained silent in the corner.
“Sit her next to me.”
The guard obeyed, dragging forward the half-dazed maid. She resisted weakly, but the man’s trained strength overcame her. Finally, she was forced to sit in a chair next to Talia. Blood ran from a cut on her temple, staining her pale cheek with crimson lines.
Talia ignored it and pushed the bowl of soup—which still contained the decomposing bird—toward her. The woman’s eyes went from the bowl to Talia’s face, gripped by panic. Talia wedged a spoon between her trembling fingers.
“In honor of your daily services preparing my meals, today I will share mine with you. Out of courtesy, finish every last drop.”
“Y-Your Highness, I…”
“Eat.”
Talia pushed the maid’s hand toward the bowl.
“You brought it to me to eat. What reason do you have not to do so?”
“I… I just…”
Her lips trembled as she cast frantic glances across the room. But none of the servants moved to help her; they were all paralyzed by fear.
“Eat it!” Talia roared.
The maid started violently, then tried to push Talia’s hand away and stand up to escape. But the guard’s grip kept her fixed in her place. Tears welled up in her eyes. She looked from his stern face to Talia’s, her voice cracking with pleas.
“I… I was wrong! Never again… please, forgive me, just this once…!”
“If you don’t finish that bowl, you won’t leave here on your own feet.”
The woman turned mortally pale. Her eyes fell upon the sword hanging at the guard’s side. She gasped for air, sobbing.
“Please… please… have mercy…!”
“I am already having it,” Talia’s tone was flat, almost bored. “I could kill you here and now. Instead, I am giving you the opportunity to live.”
The woman’s body shook uncontrollably. Talia moved the stinking soup even closer.
“If you understand, then put it all in your mouth. Every last piece.”
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