The Forgotten Field

The maid lifted the spoon with trembling hands, then squeezed her eyes shut when she realized she could not bring it down toward the bowl.

It was as though she vaguely believed that if she simply endured long enough, she might somehow escape this situation. Perhaps she was even hoping someone would appear and stop it.

Talia abruptly snatched up the knife lying on the dining table. Then she gave the man beside her a cold command.

“Hold this woman’s finger down on the plate. Since she dares disregard my generosity like this, I suppose I’ll have to cut off one of her fingers as an example.”

The man immediately seized the woman’s hand and spread it over the silver plate. Gripping the tip of the maid’s index finger, Talia raised the meat knife high into the air.

The maid shrieked in terror.

“I’ll eat it! I’ll eat it! I’ll eat everything!”

The woman hurriedly plunged the spoon into the bowl. Then she began greedily swallowing the broth containing the bird’s corpse.

As though she believed she could endure it if she did not properly taste it, the woman gulped everything down without even chewing the flesh. But before she could manage five spoonfuls, she vomited up everything she had eaten.

Even after seeing that miserable sight, Talia pressed her further.

“Eat every last bite. I want to see the bottom of the bowl.”

The woman gagged violently as she looked toward Talia in sheer terror. It was no longer the gaze of someone looking at something contemptible.

It was the gaze of someone staring at something horrifying.

With nothing more than a flick of her eyes, Talia silently ordered her not to stop. The maid wept bitterly as she repeated the cycle over and over again—eating, vomiting, eating again, only to vomit once more.

Perhaps she truly could not bring herself to put the rotting bird into her mouth, because she repeatedly forced herself to swallow only the broth before throwing it back up again.

Blood, tears, and vomit smeared together across her face. Her complexion gradually turned gray, and soon the whites of her eyes rolled back. Her body collapsed onto the carpet with a heavy thud.

Talia silently looked down at the maid convulsing on the floor with foam spilling from her mouth. Then she arrogantly jerked her chin toward the servants who had gone stiff with terror.

“Clean all of this up.”

After tossing the filthy plate down at their feet, she added,

“And bring me fresh food. This time, make sure it’s edible.”

After that day, the servants’ vicious torment stopped as though it had all been a lie.

The maids treated her cautiously, as though handling something dangerous, while several servants openly displayed extreme fear. No one looked at her with contempt anymore, nor did they whisper cruel things loudly enough for her to hear. Whenever Talia appeared, everyone hurriedly sealed their mouths shut like clams and bowed their heads.

And throughout the imperial palace, rumors spread about the Second Imperial Princess’s wicked temperament.

People who heard how cruelly she had tortured an innocent maid who had devoted over a decade of loyal service to the imperial family clicked their tongues at the young girl’s viciousness.

The priests lamented that the offspring of a viper had slithered into the imperial family, while loyal subjects of the Empire expressed concern that the savage imperial princess might tarnish the dignity of the throne.

But there was also someone who found Talia’s brutality deeply satisfying.

It was one day shortly before winter.

The Empress arrived at the detached palace wearing a deep blue dress as dark as her own eyes.

Talia had been descending the stairs with a hardened expression in order to greet her, but she unconsciously stopped in place.

The moment she saw Senevier, her throat tightened with longing so overwhelming it felt unreal.

Her mother had been so cruelly cold. Watching that slender back drift farther and farther away after violently shaking off her grasp, Talia had sworn she would never love that woman again.

But the moment Senevier crossed the vast hall and pressed a kiss against her cheek, that determination # Nоvеlight # crumbled like a sandcastle before the tide.

“Hello, Talia. You look especially beautiful today.”

Senevier smelled of roses, lilacs, and the sweet scent of ripened fruit. It was miserable to realize how desperately she had missed that dizzying fragrance.

Looking down at her daughter’s dark expression that refused to soften, Senevier smiled as though coaxing a child.

“You must have been terribly upset that I stayed away for so long. Forgive me. I was busy preparing a special gift just for you.”

Talia looked uneasy.

“A... gift?”

“I heard how effectively you disciplined those insolent servants. Since you pleased your mother so greatly, naturally you deserve a reward.”

Her voice rang like the song of a canary as she elegantly turned around.

Only then did Talia notice a boy slowly crossing the hall toward them.

Her breath stopped.

Some time during the past few months, he must have formally received knighthood, because Varkas was approaching in the uniform of the Imperial Guard.

Sunlight streaming through the windows shattered across his ash-blond hair and scattered light in every direction. The sight pierced her vision like shards of glass.

Senevier walked over to the boy’s side and spread out one hand as though proudly displaying a trophy.

“This handsome knight will protect you from now on.”

The boy stopped in front of her and bowed in greeting.

The eyes that had once gleamed with the promise of crowns now held only dagger-like fury and faint humiliation, flickering coldly beneath the surface. No fool could fail to realize that he had not come here willingly.

Looking down at her with the detached gaze one might cast upon an inorganic object, he spoke.

“My name is Varkas Laedgo Siorcan.”

His voice was so dry it sent a chill down her spine.

“I have been assigned to remain at Your Highness’s side until your coming-of-age ceremony.”

His tone made it clear he hoped that day would arrive as quickly as possible so he could escape this humiliating duty.

Talia stared helplessly up at his face, cold and expressionless as a mask.

His frigid gaze, dry tone, and rigid demeanor once again reduced her to something small and contemptible.

She struggled desperately not to shrink back, but there was no way to stop the heat of humiliation from burning across the back of her neck.

In that moment, Talia understood with painful clarity.

This beautiful boy would not become her salvation.

He would become her suffering.

A terrible one.

* * *

Once the dreary rain that had persisted for days finally stopped, fierce sunlight began pouring down as though heralding the coming season of fire.

Crossing the crowded courtyard in search of her fiancé, Aila narrowed her dazzled eyes as she wiped away the beads of sweat gathered on her forehead.

The wide training grounds usually used for military drills were packed with dozens of cargo wagons, harness merchants, massive draft horses specially bred to pull heavy carts, and soldiers transporting every sort of equipment necessary for travel.

Aila frowned briefly at the marketplace-like chaos before her eyes suddenly brightened.

She had spotted Varkas near the outer wall, inspecting the condition of the warhorses.

Instead of the white combat uniform symbolizing the Roem Knights, he wore a black tunic embroidered with intricate patterns beneath a breastplate forged from black iron. He looked less like a knight of the imperial family and more like a noble heir from the East.

Aila smiled proudly as she watched him.

Once this mission was complete, Varkas would leave the Imperial Guard and begin the succession process to become the Grand Duke of Siorcan.

And she would stand beside him, learning how to become the mistress of the grand ducal house.

That future had been decided from the very moment he first entered the Empress’s garden beside his mother.

Yet at times, Aila found herself wondering whether such a day would truly come.

Varkas was always polite, and occasionally even kind, but she knew there remained a distance between them that could never be closed.

Having spent years suffering because of that distance, Aila still found it difficult to believe that in only a few months, he would become her husband.