The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 67, 68
## Chapter 67
He practically lifted her off her feet as he carried her across the transept.
Talia parted her lips, which still stung from having bitten them so hard.
*Does he really plan to marry me like this? Seriously?*
She was on the verge of asking, but closed her mouth again. He was right. Perhaps they had already come too far to turn back now.
She lowered her gaze and observed the guests filling the central nave from one end to the other. Dozens of faces crowded her vision, still blurred by tears: the Empress’s attendants, high-ranking officials, and nobles from various prestigious families… People of influence, whom even she recognized, watched them in silence.
Now she understood why Varkas could not simply abandon her and leave the hall. No matter how powerful the heir of the Great Territory was, he could not ruin a wedding organized by the Emperor in front of so many nobles.
—The ceremony will begin shortly. Bride and groom, please step into the waiting area.
When they reached the transept, a priest who was waiting there approached them cautiously. Varkas followed the priest directly toward the waiting area beside the altar.
Talia walked falteringly behind him, her eyes moving incessantly. Through her blurry, unfocused vision, faces passed by; faces that looked as if they were enjoying an exciting play. Those cold faces, bathed in gray, seemed to mock her.
—Do your legs hurt?
Sensing her stiffness, Varkas took her chin in one hand and asked. Talia stared at him, her mind blank. He caressed the corner of her wet eye with his thumb. His touch was so gentle that she wondered if it was another hallucination caused by the sleeping incense.
He looked intently into her eyes and whispered in a low voice:
—Endure it a little longer. Once the ceremony is over, I will make sure you can rest.
The tone was as if he were coaxing a young child, and her throat tightened.
*He is only doing this because he is afraid I will cause trouble in front of all these people. He is only calming me down so I don’t throw a tantrum.*
She repeated that to herself, desperately trying to calm her racing heart…
When a voice she never expected to hear there resonated next to her ear.
—I cannot watch this. Anyone would think you two are getting married because you are happy about it.
Talia startled violently, her shoulders tensed, and she slowly turned her head.
Gareth, wearing a red doublet, was crossing between the pews with five or six royal guards behind him. For an instant, she felt as if her blood completely froze.
—Why such a long face? Shouldn’t you smile at your dear brother who has come to congratulate you?
Stopping before her, Gareth curled his lips in mockery. Talia looked at him with terror in her eyes. Perhaps he was thrilled to see the stepsister he always tormented turn pale and speechless for once. A strange smile crossed his coarse face. He leaned toward her and whispered coldly:
—You are going to obtain the title of future Grand Duchess at the price of a leg. You should be smiling from ear to ear.
Talia glared at him rigidly. Under normal conditions, she would have scratched that smug face with her nails. But at this moment, she could not even open her mouth. Her mind, already clouded, froze completely at his unexpected appearance. All she could do was make her eyelids tremble like someone facing a nightmare…
When, suddenly, her head was moved to the side.
—Your Highness the Crown Prince.
Varkas drew her head toward his chest, hiding her face against him as he spoke with a low warning.
—If you came as a guest, show the etiquette corresponding to one. Is it necessary for you to cause a commotion at your old friend’s wedding?
A heavy silence pressed over her head. Talia swallowed hard, her forehead still resting against his ceremonial uniform. She did not understand why Varkas was protecting her from Gareth. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Wasn’t his role to protect Gareth and Ayla from the evil bastard?
—There is no need for hostility. As long as you keep your promise, I will keep mine. —Gareth’s cold voice came from behind them.
She wanted to turn her head to see his expression, but Varkas’s firm grip kept her motionless. With the arm around her waist tightening further, Varkas spoke in a frigid voice:
—If you intend to witness the ceremony, please take a seat.
A sound of grinding teeth escaped Gareth… and then his presence receded. Only then did Varkas loosen his grip.
Talia turned her head, watching Gareth walk toward the seats of the guests of honor. As soon as he sat down, the old man next to him spoke to him. It was not difficult to recognize him as the Marquis of Oristein. Had the two of them spoken beforehand?
Talia narrowed her eyes and suddenly realized something… A large portion of the attendees were conservative nobles who supported the Crown Prince. Her eyes widened. What on earth was going to happen? With a confused expression, she looked around the sanctuary…
When a strong hand suddenly drew her head back again.
—You don’t need to think about anything. —His eyes, cold as ice, locked onto hers—. After today, you won’t have to see these faces ever again. Do not waste your attention on them.
He spoke as if he were engraving the words into her mind, and then walked directly toward the altar without a moment of hesitation. Talia followed him, almost dragged along, biting her torn lip. Varkas did not seem at all surprised by the current situation. His calmness helped untangle the chaos in her mind little by little.
Perhaps Gareth wanted to prove to everyone that this marriage had not damaged his relationship with the House of Sheorkan. And Varkas must have agreed to that. From the beginning, this wedding was nothing more than a farce created by the Emperor’s will, Varkas’s sense of duty, and her desire for revenge. He was still on Ayla and Gareth’s side.
—His Imperial Majesty the Emperor and Her Imperial Majesty the Empress are making their entrance!
Soon, a thundering voice rose from the stairs leading up to the dais. Talia raised her gaze from Varkas toward the upper level. The Emperor and the Empress walked gracefully toward the thrones on the second floor. They looked like the true protagonists of this stage.
Talia looked at the dignified Emperor for a moment before shifting her gaze to Senebier beside him. As always, she radiated a blinding glow. Her heavy golden hair, like molten gold, harmonized perfectly with her exquisitely sculpted features and her sensual silhouette. The beauty that Talia once believed she might obtain one day pricked her eyes like needles.
—We will begin the ceremony.
Once the Emperor and the Empress took their seats, the High Priest ascended the altar and announced solemnly. Varkas guided Talia forward to stand before the priest. Behind his deeply wrinkled face, she could see the dark sky heavy with rain. Bearing the weight of the dark clouds behind his back, the priest began to recite the ancient scriptures.
Everything felt like a ridiculous farce. Senebier showing a faint, ambiguous smile… The Emperor looking vaguely displeased… The priest murmuring formal blessings… The guests watching with cynical amusement.
—Varkas Raedgo Sheorkan, do you promise to take Talia Loem Gwyrta as your wife and live together for the rest of your life?
Once the extensive scriptures were finished, the priest finally posed the last question. Talia moistened her parched lips, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. After a few seconds of silence, he replied.
—Yes.
So dry that it sounded almost indifferent. Then, the priest asked her the same question.
—Talia Loem Gwyrta, do you promise to take Varkas Raedgo Sheorkan as your husband and live together for the rest of your life?
Talia looked at the priest with cloudy eyes. She wanted to respond with detachment, just as Varkas had done, but only ragged breaths escaped her throat, as if someone were squeezing it shut. As her silence prolonged, the arm around her tensed.
Talia turned her head toward him. His blue eyes urged her in silence. His firm gaze pushed her forward, as if he had no intention of prolonging this moment. With difficulty, she forced out a word.
—…Yes.
—In the name of God and His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, I formally declare you united in marriage. —With the same dry tone, the priest pronounced the final line of the ceremony—. Now, the couple will seal their union with a kiss.
—
## Chapter 68
Talia tore off a hangnail next to her fingernail. A drop of sweat that had accumulated on her forehead slid slowly down her temple.
Varkas took her by the shoulder and turned her gently. She felt his long, firm fingers encircle one side of her cheek. Talia did not dare to look him in the eye and, instead, fixed her sight on his chin. It did not take long for Varkas’s face to descend toward her.
Warm, soft lips lightly brushed the corner of her mouth, only for an instant, and then withdrew. It was a kiss as light as a spring breeze; nothing more than a formal gesture, the minimum required by the ceremony. A touch so fleeting that it could barely be called a kiss, but it still felt as if it shattered her heart into pieces.
—With this, we declare all rites concluded.
With the priest’s final proclamation, a wave of polite, half-hearted applause filled the air. Talia looked at him with trembling eyes. His expressionless face, indecipherable as always, watched her in silence from above.
*What was he looking at so intently?*
After a moment of scrutinizing her with that lingering gaze, Varkas finally turned toward the audience. Only then did Talia exhale the air she had been holding in.
With his arm around her waist, he guided her through the crowd of guests. Ghostly faces floated past as they walked: Gareth’s eyes gleaming eerily, the Emperor looking worried, and Senebier smiling with satisfaction… Countless shadows flowed like a river, and beyond them appeared the dark sky scattering rain.
—Bring my cloak.
Varkas stopped at the entrance of the chapel and addressed the knight waiting nearby. The knight immediately offered him the warm cloak he carried on his arm. Varkas placed it over her shoulders, then leaned down slightly and lifted her with a single arm.
Talia quickly wrapped her arms around his neck so as not to fall backward. His soft hair, with a faint scent of clean soap, brushed the tip of her nose. Holding her lightly with one arm, he began to walk slowly under the rain.
Seeing the silver droplets cover his face with a pale gleam, Talia shifted her gaze toward the garden enveloped in dismal shadows.
—…Where are we going?
—I have prepared temporary accommodation outside the palace —he replied calmly, without quickening his pace—. We will stay there until we depart for the East.
Talia looked at him bewildered.
*Was a wedding supposed to end like this?* Undoubtedly, Senebier had prepared an extravagant wedding banquet. The palace had been bustling for days, decorating the hall and preparing the feast. There must have been guests who had come specifically to see him. Was it really alright to abandon all of that and simply leave?
—We have already done our part. There is no reason to remain an entertainment for any longer.
The coldness in his voice dragged her thoughts back to reality. He was right. This marriage was nothing more than food for vulgar gossip: the bastard and crippled princess, the bride switched at the last moment, the pitiful groom who had gone from being an object of envy to an object of pity overnight… She did not need to hear the murmurs to know exactly what people would say.
There was no reason for Varkas to endure such humiliation. Not even the Emperor had the right to demand such a sacrifice from the man destined to become the ruler of the East.
Varkas arrived at a carriage bearing the crest of House Sheorkan. He stopped, and a servant sitting on the coach box jumped down to open the door. He stepped inside and gently settled her onto the soft seat.
Talia stared at him, still surprised by how soaked he had become in such a short time. Varkas sat across from her and tugged at the collar of his formal attire while letting out a weary sigh. A drop of water slid down his smooth forehead to the corner of his eye. His gaze —cool, almost dry despite the moisture— fixed on her.
—How is your leg?
Talia’s lips tensed. His excessive concern for her leg grated on her nerves. Gareth’s mocking voice resonated in her ears: how she had won a seat next to Varkas only because she had one good leg left. She bit the inside of her cheek hard.
*I know. I already know. So why do you keep reminding me?*
—It is securely fastened, so mind your own business.
He narrowed his eyes slightly at her sharp retort. Talia turned her head toward the window to avoid his gaze, but his damp fingers immediately guided her face back toward him.
—I asked if it hurts.
She tensed at his stern tone, and then slapped his hand away.
—Would it make you feel better if I said no?
—…
—What a pity. There hasn’t been a single day without pain since that night. —Her voice struck him like a wasp’s sting as she looked directly at that expressionless face—. So stop asking useless questions. It’s irritating.
The lips that had touched her before —warm and soft— tightened coldly. She had silenced him with cruel words, but his silence now felt suffocating. Talia nervously bit her dry lower lip. Even so, coldness was better than pity. Ever since her leg had ended up like this, lukewarm kindness had become the most unbearable thing of all.
To hide her anxiety, Talia snapped:
—Aren’t we leaving already? Do we plan to wait here until morning?
Varkas looked at her for a moment, then turned and lightly knocked on the carriage wall. An instant later, the reins cracked and the carriage began to move forward.
Through the fogged window, Talia saw the rain-soaked gardens pass by; landscapes that had never felt like home, receding behind a blurry veil.
She was watching abstractedly when she was suddenly lifted, and her back met the plush cushion of the seat. Talia sat up abruptly, startled.
Varkas had laid her down along the wide seat of the carriage. He reached back, took a cloak embroidered with the emblem of the Order of Roem, and spread it over her.
—It will be a long journey. Try to get some sleep.
She tried to push the cloak away, but Varkas moved faster. He caught her hand and pressed it firmly against the seat. Then, looking into her still-sleepy eyes, he used the rough tone he occasionally showed in his youth.
—Stop being stubborn and sleep. Don’t go making people uneasy with those unfocused eyes.
Startled by the warning, Talia pulled the cloak up to her nose. Varkas watched her for a moment, sighed wearily, and leaned back into his seat. For some reason, she felt like crying. She buried her face in the fabric that carried his scent and closed her eyes.
She must have fallen asleep at some point. When the carriage stopped rocking, Talia realized that the journey had halted. She rubbed her numb eyes and held her aching forehead.
As her vision cleared, the empty interior of the carriage appeared. Blinking awkwardly, she sat up suddenly. She turned her head fearfully, looking for Varkas. It was then that a harsh voice mixed with the clink of metal came from the outside.
—What will Her Highness the First Princess do?
Talia tensed and pressed herself closer to the window. Through the droplets, she saw that the rain had ceased. Beneath the reddish twilight sky stood a large, coarse stone building, and around a dozen men.
Finding Varkas among them was easy. The man standing with the twilight at his back replied coldly:
—What are you trying to insinuate?
—Do you really plan to abandon her in this manner…?
—You are speaking nonsense. —His sharp, mocking tone cut through the humid air—. The engagement between her and me was established solely to keep the Empress under control.
—…
—There are other ways to protect those two besides marriage.
—Then you mean…
Confusion tinged the man’s voice, but it was clear that Varkas had no intention of giving further explanations. He interrupted the knight impatiently.
—Since when am I someone who owes you an interrogation?
—M-my apologies. I have overstepped. —The man bowed quickly.
Varkas contemplated him coldly and then spoke in a flat voice:
—Nothing changes. Continue monitoring the Empress as you always have. And if it seems that the Crown Prince is about to commit a reckless act, inform me immediately.
—Yes, sir.
As if the conversation had concluded, Varkas turned. Talia quickly lay back down. But before she could even pretend to be asleep under the cloak, the carriage door opened and Varkas appeared inside.
Talia looked up at him, frozen.
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