The Forgotten Field

After that day, Talia began struggling desperately to escape the love that had hardened into habit over the years.

She had tried before to carve those feelings for him out of herself, but never this desperately.

She shoved the dress he had chosen deep into the back of her wardrobe and instead wore the dress that had made him frown the moment he saw it. Then she began attending the banquets regularly hosted at the Empress’s palace.

Naturally, Varkas, as her guard knight, was forced to follow her into those vulgar nights of indulgence and decadence.

For someone who had been raised like an ascetic monk until the age of fourteen, the spectacle must have been utterly contemptible.

It was not a comfortable place for Talia either.

Inside halls filled with Senevier’s worshippers, she was treated like a miniature replica of the Empress herself.

They regarded Talia — a young girl with the Empress’s face — as an amusing toy.

Quite a few of them showed active interest in her.

The way they treated her like a substitute for her mother filled her with humiliation, yet Talia pretended to enjoy the attention lavished upon her.

She wanted to flaunt herself before Varkas.

Look at what you threw away.

I’ll become more beautiful than Aila.

As beautiful as Mother.

She wanted him to see how many people desired her.

Perhaps, deep down, part of her had hoped he would stop her.

But as always, Varkas merely carried out his duties in silence.

Whether she drank herself senseless among men or exchanged flirtatious nonsense with someone twice her age, he did not care in the slightest.

That indifferent attitude only fueled the dangerous impulse consuming her.

He had remained at her side for seven whole years.

Could he not worry at least a little?

Could he not try to stop her?

Those childish thoughts clung stubbornly to the corners of her mind and refused to disappear.

It almost felt as though if she completely ruined herself, she might finally be able to cast off this pathetic lingering attachment.

With the recklessness of someone abandoning herself, she began surrounding herself with strange men.

She even allowed them to touch her hands, face, and hair with admiring fingers, or bury their noses against the nape of her neck in grotesque fascination.

She disliked being handled as though she were some porcelain doll.

And yet, she did not hate the intoxicated, enchanted look in their eyes.

Sometimes it even made her feel like a god.

Whenever she was swallowed by that sensation, failing to possess Varkas alone suddenly seemed trivial.

She clung desperately to that feeling.

If she buried herself deeply enough in those intoxicating moments, surely this childish first love would eventually shrivel up and die.

She immersed herself even further in the shallow, decadent games men and women played together.

Gradually, she even became accustomed to dangerous little games of tension — exchanging suggestive jokes and light caresses while balancing on the edge of something improper.

Then, after spending who knew how long buried in those precarious days, a southern nobleman named Margus approached her.

At first, she paid him little attention.

She attended banquets every evening and mingled with countless men, but not a single one remained in her memory.

And yet, at some point, his name began lingering familiarly in her mind.

The man had captured her attention in a strangely peculiar way.

He treated her almost like a young niece or an immature child.

At times, he even offered advice as though genuinely worried about her.

At first, his audacious attitude irritated her, but gradually Talia began lowering her guard around him.

Unlike the other men who seized every opportunity to touch her, he always maintained an appropriate distance while remaining warm and friendly.

And that was not all.

He behaved as though he had no ulterior motives whatsoever — clowning around merely to make her laugh, bringing her toys and dolls instead of jewels or revealing dresses as gifts.

Little by little, Talia began feeling comfortable around him.

Perhaps he had noticed the affection-starved child lurking inside her.

He slipped effortlessly into the cracks in her defenses.

And then, four days before her coming-of-age ceremony, he destroyed the castle of trust he had painstakingly built.

Late at night, while Varkas was away, the man came to visit her detached palace.

For a brief moment, she found his unannounced arrival suspicious, but the moment she saw his cheerful smile and lively chatter, her caution melted away like snow.

“Look at this, Your Highness! I finally found the puzzle I mentioned before!”

Holding out a large toy box, the man exclaimed excitedly.

“You cannot imagine how hard I worked to obtain this! I swear I did not put this much effort into gifts for His Majesty the Emperor!”

The man proudly lifted his chin before suddenly scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

Apparently, he had belatedly realized the impropriety of arriving so late at night.

“I originally intended to give this to you on your birthday, but... I must leave the capital urgently tomorrow, so I shamelessly came despite the hour. Will Your Highness forgive my rudeness?”

Seeing him droop the corners of his eyes like a rain-soaked puppy, Talia sighed and shook her head helplessly.

“I suppose there’s no helping it. Come inside.”

He smiled brightly and stepped into the detached palace.

It was the first time «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» she had ever invited someone inside who was neither a guard knight nor a maid.

Suddenly, the chaotic state of the palace felt embarrassingly shameful.

She led him past the reception room that had never once been used and had gathered nothing but dust, then brought him instead to the library on the second floor.

Aside from her bedroom, it was the cleanest room in the palace.

There, they unfolded the puzzle atop a chess table and sat facing one another while assembling the pieces.

She became so absorbed in the task that she failed to even notice that the man’s knees rested on either side of hers.

Talia devoted all her attention to fitting together the tiny pieces that formed a pointed castle tower.

To help her, he leaned in closely and fixed several delicate pillars into place.

At last, one tower was complete.

Talia smiled proudly.

Then suddenly, she realized he was far too close.

A look of discomfort crossed her face.

The man had pressed himself so near that the wine-scented warmth of his breath brushed against her forehead.

She shifted uncomfortably.

But abruptly pulling away now would make things awkward.

Carefully, Talia twisted slightly to the side, pretending to search the box for another puzzle piece.

Then the man moved behind her.

Stretching his arms around both sides of her waist as though embracing her, he began rummaging through the box.

“So it was here.”

Talia’s body stiffened instantly.

His long muscular arms tightened firmly around her waist.

Feeling hot, damp breaths spilling against the back of her neck, she instinctively hunched her shoulders.

Her heart pounded violently with fear at the unfamiliar situation.

And yet, strangely enough, no sound would leave her mouth.

He shoved his arm deeper into the box, pressing his body more tightly against hers.

At last, Talia managed to squeeze out a strained voice.

“L-let go...”

“Just... just a moment. Your Highness’s body... smells unbelievably sweet.”

He pressed his nose against her shoulder and inhaled deeply.

Talia felt every nerve in her body stand on edge.

Cold sweat dampened her skin, and goosebumps rippled down her spine.