The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 17, 18
C17, 18
## CHAPTER 17
### THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
Talia cast a suspicious glance at the boy staring fixedly at her with bright, unblinking eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I sneaked out of the palace to see you, sister.” The boy’s cheerful voice sounded almost impertinent.
Talia frowned. Her younger brother, Asros, who had just turned six, was a real thorn in her side. Although they shared the same parents, the difference between them was as vast as heaven and earth. This boy, with his innocent face, was a legitimate son, born to the emperor and the empress as their legal heir. She, on the other hand, was nothing more than the dirty seed of an affair.
She still remembered witnessing Asros’s baptism—when so many people showered him with blessings—and how her chest had burned with jealousy so sharp it felt like a stab wound. How could such a tiny piece of flesh, which could barely open its eyes, arouse such hatred? Senevier, who had long considered the eldest daughter useless, had never allowed her near her precious son. Because of this, Talia only saw her little brother’s face during official ceremonies. Meeting him this close for the first time since his baptism felt almost unreal. She frowned and looked around.
“Did you come here entirely alone? If Mother finds out…”
“I’m not alone. I came with Berens.” The boy spoke with absolute certainty, then turned around and pointed toward the hallway.
Only then did Talia notice the man dressed in black standing among the dense shadows. He was the ghost-like man who had once guarded her own side. Now, instead, he stood by Asros’s side, his eyes sharpened with warning, as if ready to act the moment she tried to inflict the slightest harm on the child. Bitterness rose in her throat. The man’s dark gaze seemed to say: *You will never be important to anyone.*
Talia hid her twisted feelings and asked in a flat voice, “Well, why have you come looking for me?”
“I heard you’re going on a long journey soon. So I…”
“A long journey?” Talia interrupted him abruptly, raising her voice.
Startled, the boy hesitated before continuing cautiously. “Mother said you would join her on the next pilgrimage…”
Talia stared at him, her mind blank, and suddenly burst into a harsh laugh. Asros startled and took a step back, as if even that innocent child thought she had lost her mind. Holding her stomach as she laughed, Talia leaned toward him and asked in a falsely sweet tone, “And what else did Mother say?”
Asros hesitated for a long time, seemingly realizing only at that moment that his words had deeply offended her. But he was not the type to cower and swallow his thoughts. “Mother said you might marry soon. That a man named Count Serian has presented a proposal…”
He cut himself off mid-sentence, frightened by her expression. Perhaps her face had contorted into something truly hideous. The man dressed in black, who had been watching silently from a distance, quickly stepped between them, fearing she might strangle the child in a fit of rage.
Ignoring the man’s suspicious presence, Talia fixed her gaze solely on her brother’s innocent face. “So you came to congratulate me? To say goodbye because the troublesome princess is finally leaving the palace forever?”
Her soft voice carried sharp thorns, and Asros’s shoulders trembled. He protested with a hurt expression. “I just thought… that if you get married, it will be even harder to see you than it already is now. So I wanted to talk to you before that. We are siblings, born from the same mother, aren’t we?” There was a faint longing in his voice. “I always thought it would be nice if we were close, like our older sister and brother. But if you get married, maybe we will never have the chance. That’s why I came.”
Talia looked down at his large, expectant eyes without the slightest flicker of emotion. Because of this child, she had been reduced to a completely useless existence. The Empress, the Emperor, and their bright, beloved son. She was nothing more than an ugly smudge they wished to erase from that perfect painting. The more Asros shone, the darker her shadow became. It was miserable to realize how much she envied this child. In truth, even facing him like this was unbearable. So she crushed his naive hopes mercilessly, laughing coldly.
“Do you want me to devote myself to you, like the First Princess does for her twin brother, just so they make you emperor?”
“That’s not what I meant…!”
“You don’t need to ask. Mother already has it all planned out: how to use me for your benefit. Even this marriage is probably only being arranged because it serves your interests. So, little brother, drop your foolish expectations.”
Asros had no defense against such open hostility. The expression on his face, lost and bewildered, showed how deeply he had been protected his entire life. This child had probably never spent a night awake shivering with fear. Perhaps today’s encounter would be the first wound he would carry in his life. A sharp smile formed on Talia’s lips.
“I will never be your kind and devoted sister. Because I hate you just as much as I hate our twin siblings.”
The boy’s wide eyes filled with tears from the shock. And to that pitiful face, she added mercilessly, “Now that you understand, won’t you leave?”
Asros pressed his lips tightly together, holding back his sobs, then turned around and walked away down the empty hallway. The man dressed in black followed silently behind him.
Talia closed the door and walked back to the window. The sky, previously blue, had already begun to tint with a pale violet. The workers who had been going back and forth carrying luggage were retiring from the estate one by one to rest, and the knights had long since retreated to their quarters. Distractedly, she brought her finger to her lips, only to grimace at a sharp sting. Blood welled from the corner of her nails, a dark, crimson line. At the sight of it, the venom she kept buried in her heart surfaced, burning her throat. Holding back the scream that threatened to rip from her core, she grabbed the cloak hanging in the corner and threw it over her thin tunic.
Then, without taking a single maidservant with her, she slipped out of the annex.
—
## CHAPTER 18
### THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
Passing in front of the main palace, Talia saw that the servants who recognized her hurriedly bowed until their foreheads almost touched the ground. Did they fear that the infamous Second Princess might suddenly lash out at them?
Ignoring the astonished expressions of the maids—who were clearly appalled by her sudden and unannounced appearance—Talia walked purposefully straight toward the Empress’s Palace, adorned with greater opulence than any other fortress within the imperial palace.
At twilight, Senevier usually enjoyed a banquet with the emperor in the main palace or spent a quiet evening in her own quarters. Talia guessed that today would be the latter. And she was not mistaken. Senevier was resting in her secret workshop, located behind her private library.
Descending to the basement through a hidden entrance between the book shelves, Talia was assaulted by the dizzying aroma of herbs, pungent oils, and a thin smoke that made her tickle. The large room, permeated with violet specks floating in the air, was crowded with jars of alchemical ingredients, experimental apparatuses, and piles of books written in the languages of countless races, stacked high next to the glowing fireplace.
It was such a chaos that it was difficult to believe those were the quarters of her mother; her mother, who only surrounded herself with rich and splendid things. But Talia, well accustomed to the scene, walked straight toward her mother’s desk. Reclining against a velvet-upholstered chair, Senevier was examining a parchment. The fact that she didn’t even look up made Talia’s insides burn as if she had swallowed fire.
Leaning over the desk, she uttered through gritted teeth, “Asros came to see me a moment ago.”
At last, those deep blue eyes drifted toward her. Talia continued coldly, “He said I am getting married soon.”
“I didn’t know Asros had such an interest in you,” Senevier replied with indifference, setting the parchment aside.
The way her mother’s attention remained fixed solely on her brother made Talia want to throw random objects. She clutched her skirts, forcefully suppressing that violent impulse.
“Why do I have to find out about my own marriage from the mouth of that child? And what is this about me joining the pilgrimage? What are you plotting now?”
“Plotting? That is an unpleasant word.”
Senevier let out a slight sigh as she rose gracefully from her seat. Every one of her movements was flawless, elegant enough to steal one’s breath; however, Talia watched her with suspicious eyes, distrust etching into her chest. Then Senevier spoke in a bright, youthful tone:
“You are already of age to marry, aren’t you? A suitable proposal arrived at the suitable time, so I simply expedited matters.”
“That ‘suitable’ man… would that be that human serpent, Count Serian?” Talia sneered, remembering the man with the slippery, oily face who had escorted her at the banquet. “Of course you have already thoroughly examined him, right, Mother?”
“If you are asking if Serian is capable as a man… yes. He has considerable talent in that aspect. He will gladly dedicate himself to your needs.”
The retort, more disgusting than the mockery with which Talia had tried to provoke her, shattered what little composure she had left. Every word from her mother ran across her skin like spiders. She exclaimed, almost in a scream:
“I don’t need such a filthy man! I’d rather bite my tongue and die before letting him touch me!”
“My, goodness…”
Senevier covered her cheek with a hand and sighed as if she regretted it. “Then I will look for another husband for you. I was already putting together a list of other suitable candidates.”
She gestured toward the parchment on the desk. Looking at it, Talia recognized several names and shuddered. Every single one of them was one of her mother’s devoted fanatics. So she intended to marry her off to one of the men who coveted her? Rage and fear mixed inside Talia.
“I don’t want to marry at all! Stop pretending you care and just leave me alone, like you always have!”
“Ah… then what you mean to say is that you want no one else but the heir of Duke Siorcan.”
That sudden strike to her weakest point drained the color from Talia’s face. She took a step back, staggering. Senevier’s lips curled as her tongue lashed like a viper:
“If you wanted him so much, you should have done whatever was necessary to claim him. I gave you seven whole years with him by your side. And what exactly did you achieve?” She shook her head with feigned pity. “Now, the man you desire will belong to another woman in a matter of months. Are you going to just stand there watching?”
Talia’s shoulders trembled. Her mother’s words cut with too much precision, as if she had seen directly through her. After contemplating her pale and trembling daughter, Senevier put back on the mask of a loving mother. She softened her tone, coaxing her with sweetness:
“Talia, all of this has been for you. I only wish to give my precious daughter a path out of her miserable situation.”
Her long, white fingers brushed Talia’s cheek, as soft and cold as a white snake crawling over her skin. Talia froze, rigid with dread. Looking deeply into her frightened face, Senevier whispered with the lightness of a feather:
“You have two paths before you. One: seize the man you want by any means necessary. The other: become a loser, yes, but one who suffers a little less.” Her gentle voice clung to Talia’s ears, sticky like resin. “I chose the first path and obtained everything I desired. But if you lack the capacity, then at least you can choose another partner, forge a life that looks almost as happy as the victor’s. It is a pitiful compromise, yes, but it is better to preserve a fragment of dignity than to lose everything.”
Talia pulled away sharply from her mother’s touch like an animal escaping a trampa. Senevier only smiled sweetly.
“This journey will be your last chance. Think carefully which path you will choose.”
Talia glared at her defiantly, but then fled the workshop as if escaping a predator. Behind her, a clear laugh, similar to the song of a bird, followed her like a shadow, lodging deep within her mind and refusing to disappear.
And so, Talia ended up joining the journey alongside her hated half-siblings. Thanks to the Empress’s house, everything necessary for the expedition had been organized without her having to lift a finger. Senevier even attempted to assign her own personal guards and high-ranking mages as escorts.
However, Crown Prince Gareth had fiercely opposed it. Already enraged at the prospect of traveling with the half-sister he despised, he would never tolerate bringing the Empress’s subordinates along as well. Rumor had it that Gareth had gone so far as to confront the Emperor directly to overturn Senevier’s order.
For Talia, it was a welcome result. The last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by her mother’s fanatics.
“For me? Don’t make me laugh…”
As she watched the servants load the luggage into the carriage, Talia picked at a hangnail beside her thumb, her gaze fixed and furious. Senevier would never go to so much trouble to worry about her. There had to be another ruse lurking behind it all. Suspicion sharpened her gaze as she studied the servants sent from the Empress’s Palace.
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