The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 65, 66
Chapter 65
THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
—The imperial palace is that kind of place. Monsters capable of doing anything for power swarm in every corner. If you have decided to continue living here, you had better harden your heart.
Teoric said this while giving Edric a pat on the shoulder.
Frozen by surprise, Edric slowly raised his head and looked at his superior.
—Does Sir Shearkan know about this too?
—Of course. He was the one who ordered the entire investigation.
—Then, why…?
Edric left the sentence in the air, unable to comprehend.
Teoric observed him in silence for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders.
—Well… who knows what goes through that man’s head. People like us have no way of knowing.
—…….
—But I bet he has some kind of reason; something that forces him to accept the marriage with the Second Princess.
Edric frowned.
What reason could justify all this?
He remembered the indecipherable face of that man, frowning as he thought. Then, a heavy blow impacted him from behind.
Edric turned around in surprise.
Teoric had hit Edric’s back with his large palm, using a light tone to break the tension.
—In any case, you no longer need to worry about the Second Princess.
Then, with more seriousness, he added:
—Before long, she will leave the palace. And once she does, you two will have no reason to cross paths again. So rid yourself of that unpleasant feeling and concentrate on your own future.
The last comment bordered on a scolding.
Teoric shook his head.
—Honestly. You managed to dislike the Crown Prince during the pilgrimage. You should worry about your own neck before worrying about others’.
Edric’s expression darkened.
Remembering that very thing that had been weighing on him caused his shoulders to droop.
Seeing him deflate like that, Teoric let out a half-amused, half-exasperated snort.
—My, my. From the way you used to lash out without thinking, I imagined you didn’t have any ambition. Apparently that’s not the case, huh?
—That day… I only acted because I thought it was my duty as her knight of the guard. No matter what happened, I was still her knight.
Hearing such a righteous response, a complicated expression crossed Teoric’s face.
He stared at his subordinate and then exhaled a long sigh.
—I’ll say it again. That role ended. It’s time for you to return to your own post.
Edric silently studied Teoric’s firm expression, then turned his head to look at the high walls of the palace that rose among the dense trees.
Through the dark greenery, he could see the roof of the annex where the Second Princess resided.
She had been someone he served for only a couple of months.
If he hadn’t seen her injured in such a horrible way with his own eyes, it probably wouldn’t have mattered so much to him.
Teoric is right.
His duty as her guard had ended.
The cruel environment surrounding that woman was unfortunate, but there was nothing he could do.
Maybe… this is for the best.
Just as Teoric said, the palace was full of monsters blinded by power.
And she… she was someone deeply despised by everyone.
If she left for the eastern provinces as Sir Shearkan’s wife, at least she would be free from the hostile people surrounding her now.
Edric let out a heavy sigh, shaking off the vague guilt that clung to him, and nodded.
—I understand.
Teoric seemed satisfied with his answer. A bright smile appeared on his face as he threw an arm over Edric’s shoulder.
—Good. Then, let’s get to work.
Practically dragged along, Edric looked one last time over his shoulder toward the roof of the annex. But then he straightened up and moved forward with long strides.
Talia lay in her bed, observing the dust motes that floated above her.
Shiny particles floated lazily in the weak air currents before gently settling on her body.
She raised a hand, scattering them back into the air, and then watched them fall again in slow motion.
She wasn’t sure why she was doing something so strange.
She felt as if she had turned into seaweed.
Like a piece of aquatic grass that sways aimlessly with the current.
Perhaps it hadn’t been her leg that was injured, but her head.
While she was lost in that dazed thought, the door creaked open.
Talia directed her eyes toward the intruder.
Her nanny entered like a whirlwind, with both arms full of folded sheets, and threw her a fierce look.
—You can’t keep lying there like that!
The shrill voice scraped with irritation against Talia’s eardrums.
Talia covered her head with the blanket. The nanny snatched it away immediately and continued squawking like a crazed goose.
—Get up right now and wash yourself! You threw a tantrum saying you would never let anyone else touch your body, you chased away all the maids… and now look at you!
Talia looked at her with narrowed eyes.
She didn’t understand a single word. She had slept and slept… had someone entered while she slept?
Her unfocused eyes swept the room. Broken plates and scattered objects were thrown everywhere. Apparently, she really had had a tantrum.
—Get up!
The nanny pulled her up by force.
Talia simply blinked sleepily at the woman’s flushed face.
Perhaps frustrated by her blank expression, the nanny punched her own chest with a fist.
—How much incense did you burn while I was gone? You can barely walk as you are, how do you plan to enter the ceremony like this?!
—Ceremony?
—Your wedding, of course!
—Who is getting married?
The nanny’s round face turned a plum red color. She looked so furious that it almost made Talia laugh.
With her tongue half-numb, Talia spoke carelessly:
—Congratulations… nanny.
—You are the one getting married today!
The nanny shrieked like a strangled goose.
—You were the one who said you would do it, don’t start with this again!
Talia frowned.
It’s true, she had accepted to marry Varkas.
But when had that been?
She couldn’t remember. Her sense of time seemed to have melted, dissolved in the incense smoke.
Blinking slowly, she lowered her legs from the bed.
So today was her wedding day.
Well… she supposed she shouldn’t stay lying there.
Staggering, she headed toward the screen.
—I will help you bathe and put on your underwear. After that, everything else must be done by the maids of the Empress’s palace.
—…Okay.
—And don’t go scratching or hitting anyone.
—I’m not a cat. Why would I scratch people?
The nanny made a face as if she had just swallowed something rancid.
Laughing lightly at that expression, Talia let the nanny remove her nightgown.
—Hurry up and wash.
Talia stepped into the tub.
A moment later, freezing water fell over her head.
She brushed the wet hair away from her eyes and rubbed her burning eyelids.
The nanny was frantic.
She emptied a whole bottle of scented oil over Talia and scrubbed her everywhere with a large brush; it felt more like washing a dog than bathing a princess.
But Talia didn’t complain. Her dulled senses barely registered any annoyance.
—Get out.
After throwing four more buckets of cold water on her, the nanny urgently urged her to move.
Dripping, Talia came out of the tub.
The nanny wrapped her in a huge towel and dried her in seconds, then dressed her in underwear and petticoats at an astonishing speed.
Talia had never known that the slow and lazy nanny could move like that.
She looked at her fascinated until the woman wiped the sweat from her forehead and ran out to look for the palace maids.
Soon, Talia found herself surrounded by a crowd of women.
Or… maybe there weren’t that many. One woman blurred into two, two into three, three into four. Who knew how many there actually were.
To her eyes, there were dozens.
Her vision spun. She closed her eyes.
A short time later, the maids finished and quickly took her somewhere. She felt as if a current were dragging her out to sea.
When she came to, she was in a large carriage, traveling to some place.
Talia stared out the window.
A darkened sky… a huge cathedral beneath it.
The moment the blurry landscape entered her vision, an inexplicable sense of dread reared its head.
She broke out in a cold sweat as the carriage approached the cathedral entrance, tightly gripping the door handle.
She was about to throw herself outside when the carriage suddenly stopped.
The abrupt stop made her fall to the floor.
She hit her knee and the pain shot up to her hip. She bit her lip, swallowing a groan.
Then, the carriage door opened wide.
A deep shadow poured over her.
She raised her head with a start…
…and froze.
Varkas was standing there, wrapped in an ash-grey aura, as if surrounded by a storm cloud.
He wore a white ceremonial uniform, and a cape embroidered with the emblem of his house fell loosely over his shoulders.
His blue eyes calmly swept over her face.
—
Chapter 66
THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
—Did you burn the incense again?
Varkas stared straight into her unfocused eyes, with a voice that carried a reprimand.
Immediately, her cheeks burned.
She had only taken the medicine because it hurt. It’s not like she had done something wrong… so why did she feel like she was being scolded?
She lowered her gaze to avoid his, and a dry sigh brushed her forehead.
—…Perhaps it is for the best —he murmured with bitterness, then knelt down and slipped an arm around her back.
Talia blinked, looking at the sharp profile of his jaw, suddenly so close.
He slid his other arm under her legs and slowly lifted her. Talia, by instinct, clung to the hem of her skirt; a chill ran down her spine at the thought that the dress might ride up.
—I… I can walk on my own.
—You can stay under the effects of the medicine. —His voice was dry as he stepped down from the carriage with her in his arms—. That will make today easier to endure.
Hearing the cynicism behind his tone, Talia shrank into herself. For him, today must be nothing more than a day to endure. She lowered her head in discouragement…
When suddenly, a voice came from nearby.
—My lord, it is likely that His Majesty will be delayed.
Talia startled and instinctively snuggled deeper into Varkas’s grip. He loosened his cape and let it fall over her, hiding her from view, before answering the man abruptly.
—Inform the High Priest.
Then, he advanced with a firm step toward the marble archway.
Talia unconsciously clung to his shirt. Beyond the faint mint scent of his cape, she saw the sky: heavy and grey, with clouds pressing low over their heads. The somber color seemed like an omen of their gloomy future, tinting the carved faces of the saints with a dismal paleness.
As those stone faces drew near, fear stirred in her throat like a living thing. Suddenly, she blurted out without thinking:
—The weather… is so depressing today.
His blue eyes, flecked with silver, descended toward her forehead. Avoiding his gaze, she murmured:
—Nobody gets married on a day like this.
Her intention was to say they should cancel it, but he spoke first.
—Then we will be the first.
His voice was comforting, and Talia swallowed the words rising up her throat. He was more than used to her whims. He was just humoring her. She told herself that… but her foolish heart beat wildly. She buried her burning face, trying to hide it.
And then, the massive mouth of the Great Cathedral swallowed them completely.
The cold, heavy air pressed through her thin dress like a weight. Talia shrunk her shoulders and peeked out from under Varkas’s cape. Hundreds of people filled the central nave. There were many more than she expected; her mouth went dry instantly.
They were not here to celebrate. They were here because Senebier was watching. Or worse yet, perhaps they came to gape at the bastard princess, to see how pathetic she looked.
She checked her skirt, making sure her legs were hidden. Even after confirming that the voluminous fabric covered everything, anxiety gnawed at her. Sweat accumulated in her palms as she pulled her skirt down harder and swept her eyes across the pews.
Dozens… hundreds of open, staring eyes looked back at her. Her spine stiffened.
But a dark cape slid into her field of vision, blocking the scene.
—It seems we must wait for His Majesty. —His voice was strangely gentle. He guided her past the transept toward a quieter side nave—. You can rest your eyes until then.
Talia blinked, looking at his chin. Today, he was saying very strange things. What kind of bride slept at her own wedding? She was about to comment on it when…
—Lord Sheorkan. —A familiar voice came from behind. She looked past Varkas’s neck. One of his knights was running toward them—. The Marquis of Oristein wishes to speak with you before the ceremony.
The Marquis of Oristein… Gareth and Ayla’s maternal grandfather. Why was he here? She raised her eyes nervously. Varkas’s face had hardened, just a little.
After a moment of reflection, Varkas sat her down in one of the choir stalls. He took off his cape and placed it around her shoulders.
—Wait here a moment. I will be right back.
Talia was about to grab his sleeve… but withdrew her hand. The emperor had forced him to accept this marriage. She had to get used to being left aside.
—Stay with her —he instructed the knight before walking away with elegant strides.
Talia watched him leave, biting her lip. The marquis must have come to stop the wedding. What would he say to Varkas?
Lost in thought, she suddenly felt a sharp gaze burning into her cheek. She turned her head abruptly…
A pair of dark, amber-colored eyes were staring fixedly down at her. She startled. The knight averted his gaze quickly, frightened, but sweat ran down her back.
Why was he looking at her like that? Was there something wrong with her appearance too… besides her leg? She looked down anxiously: was the deformed outline of her leg visible through the skirt?
—Would you like something to drink while you wait? —The knight’s uncomfortable voice broke the silence.
She masked her fear with a forced arrogance.
—N… no need. —But her tongue was heavy and clumsy under the effect of the medicine. Licking her dry lips, she looked around.
In addition to the knight, priests and attendants lined the side nave, waiting for the ceremony. Even the people gathered in the transept cast furtive glances at her. Their sticky, nosy eyes crawled over her skin. She bit her lip hard. She wanted to scream at them to stop looking.
The deformed is mocked and trampled mindlessly, Senebier’s voice echoed in her head. She wanted to run out of the cathedral. But she would collapse in front of everyone, and the laughter would fall like rain.
Bastard. Cripple. The worst possible bride.
—Your Highness, you do not look well. Do you want me to call a priest?
She shook her head.
—No.
—A simple healing spell could…
—What, are you deaf? I said no.
Snapping with irritation, she made the knight close his mouth. But his unsettling gaze remained. It was becoming unbearable. Everyone’s glances were unbearable. She looked toward the hallway through which Varkas had disappeared.
When was he going to return? What could be taking so long?
Ayla’s words (You will regret it) resonated in her skull. Maybe Ayla had incited her grandfather to interfere. Yes… surely it was that. A marriage between Varkas and her was absurd from the start. Maybe… maybe this whole wedding was a trap to humiliate her. Varkas had probably already left the cathedral. And she…
She would be the bastard, crippled bride, abandoned at the altar.
—I am going back.
The sudden words made the knight blink in shock. Talia took off Varkas’s cape with a jerk and let it fall to the floor. Staggering, she stood up and headed toward the small door at the end of the nave.
The knight hurried to block her path.
—Your Highness, the ceremony will begin at any…
—Get out of the way!
She stretched out her hands to push him, but a knight in armor wouldn’t budge against her weak push. She glared at him, her voice sharp:
—Didn’t you hear me? Get out of the way!
She pushed again…
Her weakened legs gave out, and her body tilted. By instinct, she clung to his arm. She felt the knight tense, and she felt the same repulsion. For a man to touch her was horrible. His large, heavy body felt suffocating. Only Varkas could touch her without disgust rising like bile. But he had left her behind.
Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes.
—Let go of me!
She gave a jerk to break free from the arm holding her…
And then, her feet left the ground.
Talia spun around, shocked.
Varkas’s cold eyes were right there. His gaze burned into her face as if it could tear someone apart. Then he looked at his knight, who was completely red, bowing frantically.
Varkas observed him in silence for a long moment, then tightened his arm around her waist and turned around.
—The guests have already arrived. The ceremony is about to begin —his icy voice echoed over her head—. It is already too late to turn back.
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