The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 77, 78
## Chapter 77
Lucas frowned.
Since he found out about the news of Varkas’s marriage, his younger sister seemed to have completely lost her mind.
Rayna, who secretly harbored a fervent admiration for the relationship between Ayla and Varkas, had spun a small and clumsy romance in her mind. In that story, Talia Roem Gyrta appeared as the ultimate villain, destroying the tender bond of two lovers.
Her eyes burned with the same fierce determination as when she first pursued the mounted warriors to hunt a manticore.
—Just wait. That woman will leave on her own. We will rescue our brother from the witch of the Taren family!
What the hell was wrong with her? How could she see Varkas Laedgo Sierkan as someone who needed to be rescued?
Sometimes he felt like peeking inside her head.
He sighed and grabbed the coat that was hanging on the back of his chair.
—Go ahead, try it then.
—Coward, are you going to sneak away by yourself?
—Didn’t you see him carrying that woman all wrapped up a moment ago? I have no intention of earning the enmity of the next Grand Duke over trivial nonsense.
—That’s just a clever trick of hers! Haven’t you heard the rumors that Taren women use dark magic to steal men’s souls?
Fuming from her mouth, Rayna boiled with rage.
—She is definitely feigning weakness to arouse his compassion! Our brother couldn’t ignore that!
Lucas shook his head. There was no way to reason with her in that state.
Sighing deeply, he headed toward the door. Rayna shouted after him.
—Where are you going?!
—To ride! I need air; it’s suffocating in here.
—No! Don’t you know that the welcome banquet for our brother will be soon?
Ignoring her, he left the room.
The central hall was bustling with servants moving luggage.
Pale-faced workers, probably from the central region, stacked large boxes in a corner of the hall like a mountain, while the Laedgo castle staff opened the drawers and searched their contents. With just a glance, the treasures inside made anyone’s eyes go wide.
“So the rumors about her extravagance were true.”
Lucas examined the boxes filled with clothes and jewelry, and then sneaked out through the back door.
Heading straight to the stables, he noticed a group of Wolfram lancers gathered in the backyard; they were the warriors who had accompanied Varkas.
Catching sight of a familiar face, he immediately directed his steps there.
—Tyron!
A man, dressed in a loose robe and drinking wine, looked sideways over his shoulder.
—Oh, the second young master.
He wiped his wet lips and spoke in his characteristic languid tone.
—How have you been?
—Bored to the marrow —Lucas replied, letting himself drop onto the steps surrounding the training field. He snatched the wine bottle from the man and drank it in one gulp—. What about the capital?
—As expected, it’s a mess.
The man shrugged, apparently imperturbable by Lucas’s impudence, and continued calmly.
—With this marriage, not only the Marquis of Oristein, but most of the conservative nobles seem to have been moved. Lord Sierkan spent a good amount of time calming them down.
—And the First Princess and the Crown Prince?
—The First Princess hasn’t even been seen. She has been secluded in her room. It’s understandable: after they broke their engagement right before the wedding, she probably won’t appear in public until a new union is arranged. As for the Crown Prince…
Choosing his words carefully, Tyron crossed his arms and frowned.
—He was furious, of course, but surprisingly serene. Instead of openly opposing Lord Sierkan, he judged that feigning consent while keeping the alliance intact would be more advantageous for him.
Lucas tilted his head.
—That’s surprising. I expected him to start a war in the east to punish whoever betrayed his sister… Rumors said the First Princess never kept anything to herself.
Remembering the rough impression of the Crown Prince when he visited the capital years ago, Lucas frowned. Tyron chuckled.
—Even pigs snap their fingers when faced with power. The Crown Prince cares deeply about his sister, yes, but no more than for the throne. In reality, he was more worried about his support base shaking than the humiliation his sister suffered.
Lucas frowned.
Although he had been educated at the academy in the capital for several years, he still found it hard to adapt to the mindset of the central nobles.
The easterners, by contrast, valued family bonds more strongly.
Even if she were annoying, if Rayna had her engagement broken by her fiancé, she and her family would have gone to war to avenge that humiliation.
Suddenly he felt pity for the First Princess. She had been betrayed not only by her fiancé, but also by the brother she trusted.
Perhaps Rayna was right. Perhaps women with Taren blood possessed a dangerous power capable of making men betray even their gods.
He remembered the deep blue eyes under the hood.
Eyes that flickered faintly with warmth, like living gems.
No, lapis lazuli of the highest quality could not compare to them.
The act of trying to lift her hood had been completely instinctive. As soon as their eyes crossed, his hand had moved without thinking.
With a slightly hoarse voice, he asked:
—What is the Second Princess like?
The man’s brow furrowed deeply.
After a pause, he replied:
—I have spoken with her only once, so I cannot say for sure. But from the rumors, she certainly seems unusual.
—More than Rayna?
—It’s unlikely she’s worse than her.
He said it in jest, but the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes betrayed uncertainty.
Lucas felt his curiosity increase even more.
What kind of person could make this elusive and carefree man frown like that?
—What is her appearance like? Is she really that beautiful?
The man, reaching out to retrieve the bottle Lucas had just grabbed, paused and shot him a calculating look.
For some reason, Lucas felt a pang of uneasiness.
He scraped the ground with the heel of his shoe, feigning indifference.
The man, watching him closely, finished the remaining wine in one gulp and replied naturally:
—Enough to be a problem.
Then, with a thoughtful expression, he added significantly:
—It’s no wonder Lord Sierkan keeps her so closely hidden.
When she opened her eyes, the room was plunged into darkness.
Talia gasped, bringing her hands to her neck as if something were suffocating her.
Scratching her skin to shake off invisible fingers, she crawled to the head of the bed and pulled the bell cord.
Moments later, the sound of the door opening reached her ears.
She turned her head.
Seeing a familiar silhouette, the pressure in her chest disappeared. Before her mind could process it, her body seemed to recognize him first.
—Did your legs go numb?
Varkas leaned over the bed, with a candle illuminating his face.
Talia exhaled deeply and shook her head from side to side.
—I only called a servant because I was thirsty.
He narrowed his eyes. Apparently, he didn’t entirely believe her.
Placing a hand on her forehead to check her temperature, he gave direct orders to the late servants.
—Bring the healer and get the medicine.
Then he poured a cup of water and handed it to her himself.
Although she felt briefly annoyed by his open disregard, Talia accepted the cup with gratitude, relieved by his quick arrival.
Taking a sip of the cold water cleared her cloudy mind.
She lowered the cup and studied him with feverish eyes.
Varkas wore a loose coat over his tight tunic, a style that was unfamiliar to her.
Her stomach did a flip.
Peeking between the folds, she caught a glimpse of the contours of his chest and averted her gaze with an awkward gesture.
—What are you wearing? That looks weird.
—…It’s the traditional oriental attire.
—Don’t wear that again. It doesn’t suit you.
To tell the truth, it suited him incredibly well.
That always precise man, dressed so loosely as if he were about to fall apart at any moment, was almost… provocative to her.
That irritated her. She spoke firmly:
—You look completely lacking in dignity. If you wear that, your servants will look down on you. So don’t do it.
Varkas studied her face for a moment and then nodded slowly.
—Understood.
—
## Chapter 78
Talia looked up sideways at his flat response.
She couldn’t tell if he responded reluctantly because he found it annoying to argue, or if he simply didn’t care about his clothes and nodded without thinking. After studying his expressionless face as if dissecting it, Talia soon deflated.
—Sometimes, when I’m with you, I feel like I’m going to burst.
Even at her sudden provocation, he showed no particular reaction. The prolonged silence made her increasingly anxious. Talia pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned around.
—Get out already.
—I will leave after I see you take your medicine.
—I’m not going to take it, so get out.
—I will leave once you have taken it and I have confirmed that you are fine.
—I said I’m not going to take it!
When she turned back around with an indignant face, his pale irises—which shone with a faint golden flash—caught her gaze. Dragging a chair toward the edge of the bed, he sat down and spoke slowly.
—If you keep being stubborn, I will force you to take it by strength.
Talia’s body tensed instantly. Suddenly, the memories of her wedding night rushed into her head. Even now, she couldn’t clearly distinguish which parts had been a dream and which were real; the confused flashes repeated vividly in her mind. Would Varkas be remembering that night too? Sweat beaded her upper lip.
Incapable of enduring the strange tension floating in the air, Talia changed the subject awkwardly.
—Have you… been drinking?
—A little.
He leaned back in the chair and spoke carelessly. Watching him with cautious and suspicious eyes, Talia snapped at him with a sharper tone than usual:
—If you are drunk, go wash up and sleep. Why do you come to someone else’s room to cause trouble?
—I haven’t drunk enough to get drunk. They made a big fuss over the welcome banquet, so I just went along with them a bit.
He replied with indifference and then, as if bothered by the accessory he wore on his arm, he unfastened it and placed it on the shelf. Staring at him, Talia asked cautiously:
—Aren’t you going to scold me for not showing up?
—Who would scold you? —a faint crease formed between his brows—. Your Highness is the highest-ranking person in this fortress. There is no one here before whom you must walk on eggshells.
—Who said I’m walking on eggshells?! I was just curious —grumbled Talia, throwing him a fierce look.
Coming from a man who had never really treated her like a princess, his words left her a bit flabbergasted. Just as she was about to snap at him to mind his own business, a knock sounded on the door.
—Soga-ju-nim, I have brought the medicine.
—Come in.
A moment later, the door opened and a small-built servant girl entered. Varkas took the medicine bottle from her hands and dismissed her.
Talia looked tensely at the vial he held. For some reason, her stomach tightened. Feeling a tickle in her throat as she forced herself to swallow saliva, he raised the bottle before her eyes.
—Drink.
Talia looked alternately between the small blue glass vial and his face. If she didn’t drink it… would he do the same as that night and force it into her mouth with a kiss? The sudden thought made her heart do a flip. Unable to compose herself, she avoided his gaze.
He leaned slightly forward and asked in a low voice:
—Aren’t you going to drink it?
Her face burned as if it were on fire. If she kept insisting that she wouldn’t drink, she felt he would see through all the feelings she worked so hard to hide. She snatched the vial from his hands with trembling fingers.
—A-all right, I’ll drink it!
As if to prove it, she removed the cork stopper and drank the bitter herbal liquid in a single gulp. A scorchingly bitter fluid scraped her throat as if it were going to burn her tongue. Talia coughed, her eyes filling with tears. It was the worst-tasting medicine she had ever tasted in her life.
—What the hell is this medicine?
—It was made by the healer of the house Sierkan.
Pouring a glass of apple wine from the shelf, he extended it to her.
—From now on, the healer here will exclusively handle your treatment.
Talia grabbed the glass and swallowed the sweet liquid, then looked at him in incredulity.
—Who says so? I already have a personal healer. A high-ranking mage trained by the Taren family has been treating me all this time…
—That healer does nothing more than burn herbs for sleep and cast minor recovery spells. At that rate, your condition will never improve.
Talia’s eyes sharpened. Her current healer had been meticulously chosen for her by Senever; he was a qualified professional. Did this shaman from the Khan tribe, who could barely use ancient ritual magic, really believe he could compare to a mage of the Taren family? Or did Varkas have some other trick up his sleeve?
With suspicion altering her expression, Talia snapped coldly:
—No. I will receive treatment from the healer my mother assigned. How am I going to trust someone from here? It’s obvious that everyone hates me…
His mouth tensed.
—Why do you think that?
—Do you think I’m stupid? The Sierkan family supports the Crown Prince. Of course they wouldn’t be happy about me marrying you and casting Ayla aside —Talia scoffed—. Who knows? Maybe someone will even try to poison me.
—Talia Roem Sierkan.
His smooth voice scraped her eardrums like something cold and sharp. Talia startled. More than the foreign surname attached to her name, it was the silent warning in his tone that froze her thoughts.
He added rigidly:
—To the extent possible, I intend to tolerate all your complaints. But do not cross the line.
The coldness of his voice made anger burst in her chest. She threw the glass at him.
—Who asked you to tolerate anything of mine?!
The sticky apple wine splashed all over his chest.
A terrible silence fell. Varkas exhaled slowly and stood up. Startled, Talia shrank into the corner of the bed. Looking at her, Varkas shook his head.
—Why do you do something that scares you so much?
Talia’s face flushed with embarrassment.
Shaking off the liquid dripping down his chest, he said naturally:
—No matter how much you lose your temper this time, it won’t change anything. Starting tomorrow, the new healer will examine your condition.
—I said I don’t want to!
Ignoring her, he walked toward the bedroom door. Talia shouted at his back:
—Liar! You said I’m the highest-ranking person in this fortress! Then why do you decide everything?
—Leaving everyone else aside, at least you should listen to your husband.
Stopping at the threshold, Varkas turned back to her and spoke as if he were instructing a stubborn child.
—I listen to you too, don’t I?
Then, as if to prove it, he took off the loose coat and carried it over his arm. Talia stared at him, her mouth open. He took the doorknob and added calmly:
—Get some sleep now. It will be a few days before the fatigue leaves your body.
Talia reacted and threw a pillow at him, but he had already left the room. Looking at the piece of cloth rolling on the floor, she finally dropped back onto the bed.
Why was it… that due to this marriage, she felt like she was the one being bullied, and not him? The thought left her irrationally resentful.
The next morning, Talia woke up feeling relatively refreshed. Having slept almost an entire day seemed to have helped; the pain in her legs was less than usual. Rubbing her cloudy eyes, she sat up and looked out the window at the radiantly blue sky, then rang the bell beside her bed.
Shortly after, a middle-aged woman with a stern face and a much younger servant girl entered the room together.
—Good morning, Your Highness. My apologies for the late greeting —the older woman spoke first—. I am Areta, supervisor of the servants in this fortress. She is Brisa, who will serve as your personal maid from now on.
When the older woman pulled the arm of the clueless girl beside her, the servant named Brisa hastily bowed her head.
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