The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 39, 40
## CHAPTER 39
An instant later, Varkas reached the front of the carriage and practically threw her inside.
Talia winced in pain, rubbing her sore hip while looking at him with fury in her eyes. But the moment she caught a glimpse of his hardened face, she froze.
Varkas looked down at her, his patience clearly at its limit. His voice was cold and sharp with barely contained anger.
—Didn’t I warn you not to cause any more trouble?
She hesitated for a second, but quickly raised her chin and replied with defiance burning in her gaze.
—Why should I listen to you? Who do you think you are?
—Someone who is worth more than a princess in name only. —A cold, mocking smile appeared on his lips.
Talia jumped to her feet, trembling with rage. She wanted nothing more than to slap that arrogant look off his face.
But Varkas was faster.
He leaned forward, trapping her arms against her sides, and looked at her with a distant, emotionless stare. His eyes, devoid of the slightest trace of sympathy, scanned her bruised cheek and the dark marks that surely marred her neck.
A weary sigh escaped his lips.
—Do you really not understand what you are doing? No one here is going to protect you. If His Highness the Crown Prince decides to act, no one can guarantee your life.
—And why do you care? —Talia snapped, raising her voice—. You would be the happiest person in the world if I just disappeared, wouldn’t you?
—I cannot deny it.
Even though she expected that answer, she felt as if her heart were bleeding.
He continued, in a tone so calm it was almost cruel:
—But I cannot allow your recklessness to jeopardize His Highness’s position. So, if you have a desire to die, do it by your own hands.
Talia’s eyes burned, with tears on the verge of welling up. She closed them tightly and forced herself to hold them back.
Varkas straightened up, hiding his expression once again behind the implacable mask of a knight. When he spoke again, his voice was completely formal.
—I will call for a healer. Once you have been attended to, you should rest.
Talia did not bother to respond. Instead, she grabbed a silver cup from the floor and threw it at him. The cup struck his chest and fell to the ground with a clatter.
Varkas looked at her with an expression of cold contempt, then made a perfect half-turn and left the carriage without saying another word.
Talia slammed the door shut behind him. Finally, the tears she had been holding back rolled down her cheeks.
She covered her mouth with her hand, terrified at the thought that someone outside might hear her sobs. The crying got stuck in her throat, suffocating her.
For a brief moment, she wished she could stop breathing entirely.
At the summit of Ulgram Hill, only the white temple remained, a structure that Emperor Darian had built a long time ago to commemorate the independence of Ossiria.
The pilgrims stopped at its base, looking with awe at the luminous marble building that gleamed under the sun. Although centuries had passed, the temple was preserved almost perfectly.
They scanned the engraved prayers and the sculptures of long-deceased heroes, immersed in reverence. But the Crown Prince felt no such awe.
Gareth dismounted from his horse with a dull thud, examining the arched entrance with a bored expression.
—So this is the second sacred place?
—Yes, His Highness —one of the maidservants replied nervously.
All the servants knew that the prince had been in a foul mood since the previous night. No one dared to speak louder than a whisper, their faces tense with anxiety.
Only Varkas remained as calm and serene as always.
—There are no resident priests here —Varkas explained, stepping forward—. We will have to prepare the ceremony ourselves.
Gareth’s eyes flashed with barely contained hostility as he shot him a glaring look.
—Then stop wasting time and get to it.
At his command, the servants immediately parked the carriages near the temple and began unloading the supplies. Soon, the entourages of both the First and Second Princess arrived and joined the preparations.
The soldiers quickly pitched the tents while the servants unpacked the ceremonial objects: censers, sacred fonts, silver pitchers, and candelabras, polishing each one until it gleamed.
Once the basic preparations were finished, the maidservants began to dress the Crown Prince and the First Princess in their ceremonial attire.
Watching from a short distance, Edric hesitated before walking toward the Second Princess’s carriage. If she was going to attend the ceremony, she would also need to prepare. But, for some reason, he did not dare to knock.
He stood staring at the firmly closed door, scratching the back of his neck in frustration. The memory of the state she was in the previous night made his stomach turn.
He lowered the hand he had raised to knock and looked toward the Crown Prince’s tent.
The servants were busy preparing a large wooden bathtub and heating water for his bath. Gareth reclined in a nearby chair, quietly drinking wine, as if nothing had happened.
The scene left a bitter taste in Edric’s mouth.
He almost killed his own sister and, yet, he looks perfectly at ease.
He had heard the rumors that the Crown Prince sometimes beat the Second Princess, but he hadn’t believed they were that severe.
He clenched his fists as the image of the small, fragile princess being beaten and strangled by that heavily built man replayed in his mind. If it hadn’t been for the timely intervention of Sir Sheorcan, the outcome could have been much worse.
Looking at his palms, soaked in cold sweat, Edric exhaled a deep sigh and turned around. There was no point in trying to convince Princess Talia to attend; she would most likely refuse anyway.
Just as he was about to leave, he heard a sharp knock behind him.
—You, the one over there.
He turned abruptly and his eyes widened.
Talia was standing at the threshold of her carriage, arms crossed, looking as proud and imperious as ever. His face was serene, her expression haughty, as if nothing had occurred.
—Bring my maidservants —she said curtly.
—…Pardon?
When he only blinked in confusion, she shot him a sharp, irritated glare.
—Are you deaf as well as ugly and stupid? I said bring my service, I need to get dressed!
Stunned for a moment by the pure audacity of her tone, Edric finally nodded and went to call the servants that the empress had assigned to her.
As he watched her scold the servants with her usual arrogance, an involuntary sigh of relief escaped his chest. The healer had done a good job the previous night, but after what she had endured —and without proper food or rest—, he had feared she would collapse.
It seems that, after all, she is fine.
Then again, this was the same woman who had mocked the Crown Prince even after nearly being strangled to death. There was no way her spirit would be easily broken.
With a slight, resigned smile, Edric gave orders to bring water and signaled his men to straighten their uniforms. Since the Second Princess had finally decided to attend the imperial ceremony, it was his duty as her knight to ensure she was properly escorted.
—
## CHAPTER 40
He pulled out his knight’s cloak, shook the dust off it with a quick snap, and spread it over the gold and orichalcum armor that gleamed underneath. The tabard, crafted by the elves themselves, was embroidered with the emblem of an ancient golden chalice surrounded by fire and ancestral runes. Special enchantments had been woven into the fabric so that not even the strongest impacts could damage it.
Apparently, only wrinkles escaped the reach of magic.
He smoothed the folds of the long, heavy hem with a few brisk pats, wiped the dust off his sollerets, and stood up. When he finally stepped out of the tent, the overcast sky stretched gray and heavy above him. The wind, which had blown hard since morning, now brought the scent of rain. Everything pointed to a downpour falling soon.
Frowning, Edric took a rain cloak and headed toward Talia’s tent. But before he could reach it, the deep, solemn tolling of the sacred bell echoed behind him, announcing the start of the ceremony.
Turning his head abruptly, he saw the Crown Prince and the First Princess, already fully prepared, leading their entourage toward the large arched entrance of the temple. Edric hurriedly crossed the camp, passing between enormous stone pillars carved like colossal statues, until the interior of the sacred sanctuary unfolded before his eyes: a vast hall bathed in a dim bluish light.
He stopped for a moment, observing the gathered attendees filling the pews and the long line of knights stationed along the walls. At the altar stood the Crown Prince and the First Princess, receiving a prayer of consecration from the priest presiding over the rite before beginning.
Tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, Edric spotted Sir Sheorcan waiting near the transept and quickly crossed the nave to reach him.
—Commander, Her Highness the Second Princess will be ready shortly. Could you grant us a few more minutes? —he said cautiously upon approaching.
Sir Varkas directed his calm gaze toward him, and Edric, by instinct, held his breath.
Instead of the knight’s uniform, Varkas wore a black doublet over which rested a breastplate engraved with the coat of arms of the Sheorcan family, and a mantle of a singular cut hung from one shoulder. Even in the eyes of another man, he was imposing, almost in a disturbing way. Suddenly, the Second Princess’s previous insult about Edric’s appearance came to his mind.
If she has grown up surrounded by men like this, it’s no wonder anyone else looks unattractive to her.
Lost in that absurd thought, Edric blinked when his superior exhaled a slight sigh and began to walk toward the altar.
—We will have to pause the ceremony —Varkas said in a serene voice—. Her Highness the Second Princess has decided to attend the consecration.
The priest, who had been reciting the prayer, froze mid-chant and looked nervously at Varkas and the uncomfortable Edric.
As a member of the imperial family, the Second Princess was obligated to participate in such rites. If she had refused, it would have been a different story; but since she had expressed her intention to attend, the correct thing to do was to wait for her. Even so, the priest hesitated to answer, looking toward the Crown Prince for instructions.
—Are you telling me to wait for that bastard’s spawn?
The Crown Prince spat the words through his teeth, fixing his furious gaze on Varkas.
—Continue with the ceremony right now! I am not going to delay myself for even a single second for that miserable wretch!
Edric’s face hardened. He already knew how deep the Crown Prince’s hatred for the Second Princess ran, but hearing him declare it so publicly and shamelessly left him stunned. The Second Princess’s participation had been decreed by the Emperor himself. How could he defy that before the entire court?
Hesitating, Edric finally spoke:
—Her Highness is also a member of the Imperial Family, recognized by His Majesty. By custom, she also has the right to receive the blessings of the Saints.
The Crown Prince’s burning eyes shifted from Varkas to Edric.
Edric swallowed hard as the prince’s sharp-featured face contorted into a savage growl. He advanced stealthily, like a tiger on the prowl.
—Do you happen to know who you are talking to?
—M-My apologies, His Highness, I only meant…
Before he could finish, the Crown Prince grabbed him by the collar of his doublet and yanked him forward, cutting off his air. Edric struggled to maintain his composure while holding that murderous gaze head-on.
That must have only enraged the prince further: his deep green eyes flashed like those of a wild beast.
—A simple knight dares to lecture me?
—I… I beg your pardon… —Edric managed to articulate, clenching his fists tightly so as not to resist.
Then, Varkas placed a hand gently on the Crown Prince’s shoulder.
—His Highness.
The low, firm voice froze the prince’s movements. Edric could see a flash of tension —just a fleeting instant— cross the Crown Prince’s arrogant face.
Varkas spoke in a low voice:
—There are many eyes on us.
A slight flush rose to Gareth’s cheeks. For a moment, he seemed to feel embarrassed at having been intimidated by the knight in front of him.
He released Edric’s collar with a shove and faced Varkas, fury burning behind his eyes.
—I warned you not to put a hand on me again, didn’t I? Do you think my patience is infinite?
Wrenching his shoulder from Varkas’s grip, the prince stepped so close that their faces almost touched, growling with barely contained rage. The knights —and even the First Princess— hurriedly stepped forward to intervene before things escalated.
And then…
A fresh, melodic voice, as cold and clear as falling ice, resonated in the nave.
—If I had known such an entertaining show awaited us, I wouldn’t have missed the last ceremony.
Startled, Edric turned to see Talia walking briskly down the hall, flanked by several maidservants.
The woman who never missed an opportunity to cause trouble had appeared, but this time she was impeccable. Perfectly serene, dressed with regal precision, she approached the altar with a leisurely grace.
The sunlight filtering through the windows illuminated her face —so similar to that of the late Empress— and her delicate silhouette, enveloped in a silk dress of a pale platinum color.
For a moment, Edric was left speechless by that unreal vision. But he soon realized he was not the only one. Every eye in the hall, without exception, was fixed on her in silent awe.
He looked toward the Crown Prince and the First Princess.
The Crown Prince’s expression was that of a demon, his gaze laced with venom. The First Princess’s face remained serene, but her tightly intertwined hands had turned white as paper.
Sensing the suffocating tension between the three royals, Edric moved stealthily to stand beside the Second Princess. None of the others seemed to notice, except for Talia herself, who looked at him briefly with a flash of slight amusement in her eyes before looking forward again.
Her gaze landed on Varkas and the Crown Prince.
—What are you waiting for? Weren’t you about to fight?
Grinding his teeth so hard it felt like his jaw was going to break, the Crown Prince slowly backed away from Varkas. Then he gave his half-sister a long look from head to toe and let out a mocking laugh.
—I don’t know who you intend to impress by dressing like that, but I hope you don’t think that hides your filthy lineage.
—How curious… The other day you scolded me for not being dressed properly. You complained so much that this time I made an effort, and now you are offended? That is quite hurtful.
Talia’s smile was faint, deliberate. She stepped a little closer, measuring every movement.
Edric looked at her in alarm. After what she had endured the day before, she was still provoking him; fearless, or perhaps simply reckless beyond all logic.
But the Second Princess did not care what others thought. Raising her chin, she leaned toward the prince and said sweetly:
—I went to all this trouble to dress exactly the way you like, dear brother…
Comments for chapter "Chapter 39, 40"
MANGA DISCUSSION
Madara Info
Madara stands as a beacon for those desiring to craft a captivating online comic and manga reading platform on WordPress
For custom work request, please send email to wpstylish(at)gmail(dot)com
English