The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 29, 30
## Chapter 29
### THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
Moving her hands with clumsiness and nervousness, Talia let out a harsh and broken voice.
—If… if you break even a single strand of my hair, I will not forgive you.
He did not answer. But his movements seemed to become a little more careful. His fingers moved with such delicacy that it almost seemed as if he were caressing her hair, and Talia swallowed with difficulty. Through the open collar of his shirt, she could see his thick throat and the elegant clavicles that stood out like the wings of a bird. The flexion of his forearm, strong yet flexible, was felt vividly as his hand moved, and the long legs wrapped in wool trousers that rested right next to her own thighs made her sharply and unnecessarily aware of him.
Talia tilted her head downward to hide her face burning in a fiery red.
—Is… is it really taking this long?
Could it really take so long to untangle a strand of hair caught in a button? Or was it that her own nervousness was stretching this moment into something unrealistically long? Sweat began to bead on her palms. She rubbed her hand against the pile of clothes scattered on the floor. Then, catching the flush creeping up to the inside of her wrist, she stifled a cry of alarm. Surely her entire body hadn’t turned red, right? How ridiculous she must look if that were the case. Her voice rose sharply, driven by nerves:
—Enough already, just cut it once and for all!
Varkas, who was usually quick and precise in everything, fumbled in an unusual manner for a moment before lowering a hand toward his belt. She froze upon seeing him pull out a dagger. Then, he brought his arm back behind her. Talia, subconsciously, gripped the fabric of his clothes tightly.
—E-even so, don’t cut too much… my hair…
Before she could finish speaking, a faint snap was heard and the subtle pressure pulling at her scalp vanished. Talia turned hastily, fearing that he had cut off an entire lock of hair. Fortunately, there was no cut strand anywhere. Instead, on the floor, lay a single golden and shiny button. She picked it up and examined it closely. The finely crafted button had the emblem of the Knights of Roem engraved on it. Turning her head again, she looked up at him. Varkas was already standing, putting the dagger back into its sheath.
—How long do you plan to stay sitting there? —While adjusting his disheveled uniform, Varkas spoke in his usual sharp tone.
Talia stood up hesitantly. For some reason, everything suddenly felt awkward. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she cleared her throat and held out the button to him.
—Here, take this.
—I don’t need it. Throw it away. —Varkas replied with indifference and cast a glance out the window. The sky outside had already turned crimson with the sunset. He turned again, scanning the chaotic room with tired eyes before speaking with fatigue—: May I withdraw now?
Talia nodded without protest. He returned a brief nod of his head and immediately left the room. Listening in silence as the sound of his footsteps faded, Talia ran to the side of the bed and pulled out her jewelry box. Opening it, she stored his button deep in the innermost corner.
That night she could not sleep; her chest throbbed with a strange and agitated emotion. Unfathomable feelings left her heart aching. Over and over, she replayed his words, his gestures, his gaze in her mind. Perhaps. No, impossible. But perhaps… A tangle of entangled thoughts filled her head until she felt like it was going to burst. Even so, she could not stop smiling. Immersed in a state of bliss, she tossed and turned in bed all night long.
But it did not take long before that foolish teenage daydream was shattered into pieces. A few days later, the news arrived: the announcement of the engagement between Varkas and Ayla.
It was like waking up from a blank daytime dream. No, worse than that. It felt as if she had been floating high up in the clouds, only to be thrown to the ground in an instant. Talia ran out of the annex and headed toward the training grounds. At noon, he would go looking for her to fulfill his duties as a royal guard, but she could not wait that long. She crossed half of the Imperial Palace in a single breath and burst into the wide open courtyard where the knights were training. She could feel the cautious gazes of those who noticed her intrusion, but she did not care in the slightest. Talia’s eyes moved with frenzy, searching for the ash-blonde hair that shone faintly. Then she realized: those training here were not full-fledged knights, but recruits in training.
If he was not in the training courtyard, he was most likely in his office, dealing with paperwork. She turned around and headed toward the administrative office located right next to the training fields. As expected, Varkas was inside, but he did not seem to be working. When she stretched her hand toward the doorknob, Talia froze upon hearing the sound of a faint sob.
Through the narrow slit of the door that had been left ajar, she could see Varkas standing, his back to the window, and a woman, her face buried against his chest, sobbing softly. She stood frozen before the scene; a situation she would have never imagined. Then, the unknown woman raised her head, looking at him with desperate eyes.
—You don’t love that woman, do you? —The woman’s voice trembled pitifully, to the point of making one’s stomach turn. Clinging to him as if begging for her life, she pleaded with desperation—: You are only marrying her for political reasons, aren’t you? Please… tell me it’s true.
Talia felt her throat close up. The simple fact of realizing that such a woman even existed —someone who could speak to him that way— was like receiving a blow to the head. She studied his face with anxiety.
At last, his tightly closed lips opened.
—I fail to see what meaning my answer could have for you. —His voice was so dry that it sent a shiver down her spine. Talia, involuntarily, startled. Varkas looked at the woman blankly, his face as expressionless as that of a wax doll, and tilted his head slightly as if experiencing a mild confusion—. Whether it is for political reasons or not, what difference does it make? I have promised to take the First Princess as my wife, and I intend to keep that promise.
The woman’s fragile back tensed visibly. She probably felt a pain as if her heart were being torn apart. But Varkas did not stop there.
—I do not know what you expected from me, but I made it clear from the beginning: I have no intention of reciprocating your feelings. —The color drained completely from the woman’s neck. Without a trace of pity, he sighed with weariness and added—: I would prefer that we avoid these uncomfortable encounters from now on. Now that the engagement has been made official, I would prefer not to give rise to unnecessary rumors.
The woman stumbled backward and then collapsed weakly onto the floor, as if her strength had left her. A fleeting expression of irritation crossed Varkas’s face. There was not even a flash of sympathy on that face devoid of emotions. That expression, that gaze… everything about it was chillingly familiar.
Talia fled the place in a hurry. If she had arrived just a few moments earlier, it could have been her, instead of that woman, sitting there, sobbing in humiliation. The simple fact of imagining that possibility made her skin crawl. If she had ever begged for love in that manner, and if Varkas had looked at her with those same eyes, she would have died on the spot. No, with all certainty she would have done so.
And so, Talia began to have a true fear of him. The idea that mere words from him could drive her to death terrified her to the core. Quite naturally, her attitude toward Varkas became more reserved than ever. He was no longer the object of her affection; he was closer to being her natural enemy. Unless she could completely suppress these feelings, she would spend the rest of her days plunged into nothing but unbearable pain.
—
## Chapter 30
### THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
After that day, Talia began to fight to free herself from the love that had hardened into a habit of long years. She had fought before to excise her feelings for him, but never with such desperation.
She pushed the dresses he had chosen for her deep into the back of the closet and pulled out those that made him frown the instant he saw her. Then, she began to attend the banquets held regularly at the Empress’s Palace. Naturally, her escort knight, Varkas, was forced to follow her on those nights of decadent revelry. For him, who had been raised under monastic discipline until the age of fourteen, those scenes were nothing short of despicable. Nor was it a comfortable place for Talia. Surrounded by her mother’s admirers, she was treated as a miniature version of Senebier.
They looked at Talia, the young girl who carried the face of the Empress on her own body, as if she were an amusing toy. Not a few openly showed their interest. The way they treated her as a substitute for her mother filled her with humiliation; even so, Talia pretended to enjoy the attention being poured onto her. She wanted to show off… in front of Varkas.
*Look at what you have lost. I will become a woman more beautiful than Ayla. As beautiful as my mother.*
She wanted him to see how many men desired her. Perhaps, deep down, she wished for him to stop her. But Varkas, as always, confined himself to fulfilling his guard duties in silence. Whether she drank until losing her senses among men or flirted with someone twice her age, he did not intervene in the slightest. His indifference only stoked the dangerous impulses that had taken hold of her.
*He has been by my side for seven years. Could he not care about me, even just a little? Could he not try to stop me, at least once?*
That childish thought clung stubbornly to a corner of her mind. She began to believe that, if she destroyed herself completely, perhaps she would manage to shake off that foolish and persistent affection. So she threw herself recklessly into the company of strange men. She allowed them to touch her hands, her face, and her hair with admiring fingers, even when they leaned close enough for their breaths to brush her neck. She found the way they handled her disagreeable, as if she were a porcelain doll. However, there was something strangely satisfying about the intoxicated look that filled their eyes.
At times she felt almost exalted, as if she had become some kind of deity. When she let herself be carried away by those moments, not having been able to possess Varkas seemed like a trivial matter. She clung to that sensation. If she only managed to stay immersed in that intoxicating world, her childish love would surely wither and die. She surrendered herself even more to the superficial and lascivious games between men and women: the teasing words, the light touches, the dangerous tug-of-war. Gradually, she grew accustomed to it.
Then, after a time lost in those reckless days, a southern noble named Margus approached her. At first she paid him little attention. Although she went to the ballroom every night and mixed with many men, not a single one had remained in her memory. But at some point, his name began to hover around her mind. The man had captured her attention in a highly peculiar way.
He treated her as if she were a niece or a child, and even sometimes scolded her with sincere concern. At first Talia was annoyed by his presumptuous tone, but gradually she began to open her heart to him. Unlike the others, who always sought an opportunity to touch her, he maintained a respectful distance, always showing a friendly but appropriate attitude. Not only that; he seemed to care only about making her laugh. Instead of bringing her jewelry or revealing dresses, he appeared with toys or dolls, calling them “gifts.” He acted like a man without ulterior motives, and over time, Talia began to feel comfortable by his side.
Perhaps he had sensed the neglected child lurking at the bottom of her heart. He bypassed her guard all too easily.
And the night he shattered the trust he had built arrived four days before her coming-of-age ceremony.
Late in the afternoon, when it happened that Varkas was absent, the man showed up at the annex. His unannounced visit aroused suspicions at first, but his cheerful chatter and disarming smile soon melted her caution.
—Look, Your Highness! I finally got the puzzle I told you about! —he exclaimed, holding out a large toy box with enthusiasm—. You cannot imagine how hard I worked to get it! Not even a gift for Your Majesty would require so much effort! —He raised his nose with pride and then scratched the back of his neck with an awkward smile, realizing how inappropriate it was to show up so late—. I intended to give it to you on your birthday, but I must leave the capital tomorrow, so I dared to visit you in this manner. Please forgive my rudeness.
With eyes drooping like those of a puppy soaked by the rain, Talia sighed and shook her head.
—It cannot be helped. Come in, then.
He smiled widely and entered the annex. It was the first time she had allowed anyone other than her guard or her maids to enter. Suddenly, the untidy state of the place embarrassed her. She guided him past a dusty room she had never used and went up to the second-floor study, the neatest room aside from her bedroom. There, they unfolded a chess table and began to assemble the puzzle pieces.
They were so absorbed that she did not notice his knees positioning themselves on either side of hers. Talia concentrated solely on joining the small pieces to form the pointed tower of a castle. He leaned in close, helping to support the tiny columns. At last, the tower was finished. Talia smiled, satisfied… and suddenly realized how close he was. His breath, heavy with wine, brushed her forehead. Uncomfortable, she shifted in her seat, though she hesitated to pull away abruptly so as not to break the atmosphere.
Turning slightly, she pretended to look for another piece in the box. Then, the man positioned himself behind her and wrapped both arms around her sides, rummaging through the box as if to help her.
—Ah, here it is —he murmured.
Talia froze. His muscular arms tensed around her waist. She felt his hot and humid breath close to her neck and instinctively shrugged her shoulders. Fear surged in her chest, making her heart beat wildly… but strangely, no sound came from her mouth. As he pressed himself harder against her, she finally managed to articulate a few choked words.
—Let—let go of me… immediately.
—Just a moment… Your scent is… intoxicating. —He inhaled deeply near her shoulder.
Talia’s entire body tensed. A cold sweat dampened her skin and shivers ran down her spine.
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