The Forgotten Field

She glared at Senevier with eyes full of suspicion.

What exactly was the woman planning by forcing Talia into accompanying them? That girl was capable of little more than irritating her with childish provocations and tasteless games.

But Senevier was not the sort of person who would mobilize even the Emperor for something so pointless. There had to be another scheme hidden beneath it.

Aila spoke in a somewhat stiff tone.

“Is it not customary for women of the imperial family to undertake a pilgrimage shortly before marriage? Why are you insisting on sending her at this particular time?”

“Talia may soon be wed as well.”

Senevier answered lightly.

Aila frowned. Until now, she had never heard even the faintest rumor of marriage negotiations involving Talia.

No matter how illegitimate her birth, Talia was still an Imperial Princess whose name had been entered into the imperial genealogy. She was not someone whose marriage could be arranged quietly behind closed doors. It was obvious Senevier had fabricated the story solely to force Talia into joining this journey.

As she stared at the Empress with open suspicion, Varkas’s cold voice cut through the room.

“What remarkably convenient timing for a marriage arrangement to suddenly succeed.”

Even at the blatant mockery, Senevier did not lose her composure.

“With joyous occasions occurring one after another within the imperial family, I would say it is excellent news. The proposal arrived only recently, so no formal engagement has yet been established, but His Majesty and I are considering it favorably.”

A faint sneer touched Varkas’s lips.

“May I ask who this fortunate man is?”

“You have likely heard the name before. Verdein Serian, head of the Count Serian family. A formal proposal arrived only a few days ago.”

Senevier spoke with a benevolent smile resting upon her lips.

“That child has long since come of age. It is about time she married, would you not agree? It seemed a suitable match.”

Aila barely managed to suppress a hollow laugh.

Verdein Serian was one of the Empress’s most fervent devotees.

Rumor claimed that he had once held the record for being the longest-standing lover of a daughter of House Taren. And now she intended to marry her own daughter to such a man? Had she completely lost her mind?

The image of Talia appearing in the banquet hall beside Count Serian rose vividly in her mind, and nausea twisted in her stomach. A mother intending to marry her daughter to her former lover, and a daughter obediently accepting such a thing—both of them had to be insane.

“Since matters have been decided, make haste with the preparations for that child’s journey.”

The Emperor spoke firmly, clearly wishing to end the discussion, then motioned for them to withdraw.

Varkas stared up at his sovereign with an unreadable expression for a moment before silently bowing his head and slowly rising to his feet.

Then he turned and left the audience chamber.

Aila, who had been glaring warily at Senevier, looked back at him with visible confusion. She had not expected Varkas to retreat so obediently.

After offering proper respect to the Emperor, she hurried after him.

“Are you truly planning to take Talia with us? Her marriage is nothing but an excuse. Senevier is undoubtedly plotting something terrible.”

“Most likely.”

He answered indifferently as he descended the stairs with measured steps.

Aila stared blankly at his retreating figure before quickly gathering up her skirts and hurrying after him. Catching his arm, she cried out in an agitated voice,

“And that is all you have to say? We do not know what the Empress intends to do with Talia, yet you are simply bringing her along without question—!”

“What exactly is it that you expect me to do?”

The man halted and turned cold eyes upon her.

Aila flinched.

Only then did she realize his mood had completely soured.

Barely an hour ago, he had been smiling at her. Yet now he had once again become a stranger, looking down at her with icy eyes.

He spoke with faint ridicule.

“Do you wish for me to defy His Majesty’s command?”

“I merely...”

“His Majesty is the ruler of this Empire, and I am a man who has sworn loyalty to the imperial family. From the beginning, there was never any path for me except obedience. Is that not what you imperial royals have always demanded of nobles like me?”

The unexpected sharpness of his words froze Aila in place.

After staring down at her with emotionless eyes, the man turned and began walking once more.

The moment she saw his back retreating without the slightest hesitation, fear suddenly surged through her chest.

Just as she had done when she was a young girl, Aila ran after him and wrapped both arms tightly around his solid waist.

“I’m sorry! I was anxious, so I took it out on you. Please... don’t turn away from me so coldly.”

The rigid tension slowly drained from his body.

He let out a quiet sigh before turning and embracing her in return.

Then, just as he had done in childhood, he gently stroked her hair and spoke softly.

“There is no need for Your Highness to be anxious. Whatever scheme the Empress may be plotting, no harm will ever come to you.”

She raised her head and looked up at his face.

The man who had moments ago turned away wearing the face of a stranger had once again become the loyal knight she knew. Aila felt her disordered emotions settling back into place almost instantly.

A man capable of shaking her so effortlessly, then soothing her with only a few careless words...

Before him, even the pride, dignity, and authority she possessed as an Imperial Princess became meaningless.

Clinging to the cool embrace that had never once grown warm despite the many years they had spent together, Aila searched those pale blue eyes desperately.

What was this man looking at?

Those hollow, bottomless eyes always seemed to wander someplace impossibly distant.

“I swore to the former Empress that I would protect both of you for as long as my strength allowed.”

He brushed several strands of hair stuck to Aila’s cheek behind her ear as he spoke.

“No matter what happens, I intend to keep that promise. So there is nothing for Your Highness to worry about.”

Aila studied his face for a long while before finally nodding.

Yes. As long as this man remained on their side, there was nothing to fear.

Nothing at all.

* * *

After trimming her broken nails, her hands felt unbearably empty.

How many more weeks would it take before they grew long enough to sink deep into flesh again?

Talia stared anxiously at the faint pink nails slowly beginning to emerge at her fingertips.

The satisfaction of injuring the Crown Prince had not lasted long. Her noble brother had undoubtedly summoned a priest immediately and healed his hand without leaving even a scar.

Meanwhile, she had lost the precious weapon she had carefully cultivated for weeks.

‘If possible, I would have preferred to use them on Aila...’

How many times had she imagined driving her nails into those spring-green eyes whenever that woman looked at Varkas?

Talia scratched at the wound left behind when her nail had broken.

The thin scab peeled away instantly, and droplets of blood welled up from the torn skin.

Her nerves grew sharper and sharper.

She stared blankly at the nail slowly staining red before slipping her finger into her mouth and lightly sucking away the blood.

Then she rose from the window.

For some reason, Varkas had been particularly difficult to spot today. There was no longer any reason to remain pressed against the glass beneath the scorching sunlight.

She trudged across the room and poured cold water into the basin resting atop the shelf before lightly washing the sweat from her face.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

The nanny must have brought more snacks again.

Drying her face with clean linen, Talia called out lazily,

“Come in.”

But the one who opened the door was not the short quarter-dwarf with plump limbs.

Instead, a small boy stepped inside, possessing dark /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ reddish-brown curls and bright green eyes that shone vividly.