The Forgotten Field

The veins on the Crown Prince’s thick neck bulged visibly.

Seeing him look ready to throw a punch at any moment, Edrick immediately moved closer to Talia’s side. Apparently he was not the only one to sense the danger. Varkas, who had been standing silently like a shadow, stepped between them.

“The schedule has already been delayed considerably. Let us proceed with the ceremony.”

The Second Imperial Princess stiffened for a moment and turned her eyes toward him.

The reaction lasted only an instant, but Edrick, whose nerves were stretched taut, caught the way her body had gone rigid.

It seemed that even this reckless, storm-brained woman understood that when Sir Varkas became serious, it was wise to back down.

Talia pressed her lips together and looked away.

The Crown Prince, who had seemed on the verge of exploding, also clenched his teeth and returned to stand before the altar.

Seeing the situation apparently settled, the high priest—who had been shrinking into himself and nervously watching the exchange—cleared his throat and resumed the ceremony.

Standing some distance away, Edrick watched as the three imperial siblings received their consecration prayers one by one.

The Crown Prince approached the altar first and bowed his head.

The high priest raised a silver chalice, poured holy water into it, and recited blessings in an ancient tongue.

Next came the First Imperial Princess and Sir Varkas, her future husband.

Finally, Talia stepped forward and bowed before the priest.

Edrick found himself staring at her as though she were a stranger.

The light from hundreds of candles washed over her tawny-gold hair and pale skin, surrounding her with an almost mystical radiance.

For a moment she seemed less like a human being and more like something from another world.

As he watched in silence, the priest poured holy water over her head as well.

The clear stream soaked her hair like spun gold, slid over her smooth forehead and cheeks, traced the bridge of her nose, and gathered at the tip of her chin.

The priest placed a hand atop her head and poured divine power into the blessing.

“May God’s grace remain with you forever...”

At last, the prayer that had seemed as though it would never end finally came to a stop.

The priest rang a silver bell.

The Crown Prince rose first and crossed through the congregation.

The First Imperial Princess and Sir Varkas followed behind him.

Then Talia Roem Gwirta slowly straightened as well.

Lifting her chin high, she strode through the congregation with the bearing of a queen.

No one could take their eyes off her.

The embodiment of discord.

An unsettling, ill-omened presence.

The woman they had always viewed in such a way suddenly seemed different.

As though, for the very first time, they were realizing that she truly was an Imperial Princess of the Empire.

* * *

Perhaps because they had climbed to a much higher elevation, the air that had felt like boiling water earlier had grown cool.

Drawing a breath of the dry, crisp atmosphere, Talia gazed through the carriage window at the darkening sky.

Deep blue night was rolling in from the east.

Another day was about to end without incident.

Her throat burned as though she had swallowed a piece of fire.

Opening the storage compartment attached to the side of the carriage, Talia retrieved a small silver knife she had taken from the monastery.

The pale blade gleamed faintly.

It almost seemed to be speaking to her.

As though it were saying it had grown tired of waiting.

She slipped it into her pocket and carefully climbed down from the carriage.

The bustling campsite spread before her.

Pulling the hood of her cloak low over her head, she cautiously surveyed her surroundings.

Apparently a grand feast was being held to improve Gareth’s foul mood.

Servants hurried back and forth between the tents carrying food and wine.

Several soldiers were already thoroughly drunk.

Talia brushed her fingers against the blade hidden in her pocket and moistened her dry lips.

She welcomed the chaos.

It would only make her task easier.

Carefully, she began crossing the camp.

Then a royal guard knight spotted her and hurried over.

“Your Highness!”

Talia frowned.

Why did this man insist on wagging his tail after her so persistently?

His inexplicably friendly attitude irritated her.

She stared coldly at his harmless face, snorted dismissively, and walked straight past him.

Yet even such blatant rejection failed to discourage him.

“So you really were feeling stifled, weren’t you? Please come this way. The servants are preparing food. If you watch the cooking process yourself, you’ll be able to put your mind at ease.”

Ignoring the knight’s nonstop chatter, she headed toward the source of the music.

Before long, she found Gareth enjoying a lavish feast before an ornate tent.

Talia stopped at a distance.

His attendants were going to extraordinary lengths to improve the Crown Prince’s sour mood.

Servants dressed as ridiculous clowns performed tricks with daggers.

Musicians played sultry melodies tailored to his tastes.

Several maids pretended to serve him while openly flirting.

Talia ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) watched the spectacle with mocking amusement.

Then the royal guard knight stepped in front of her.

“You should go somewhere else.”

Talia slowly lifted her gaze to his serious face.

He had worn the same expression back at the temple.

As though he were protecting her from danger.

She sneered inwardly.

As if I’d ever believe that.

“Mind your own business.”

She snapped coldly before changing direction and walking toward the tents lined along the riverbank.

Gareth had never been her target.

Trying to appear as natural as possible, Talia searched for Aila’s camp.

At last she found her half-sister dining among a group of maids.

Talia hesitated.

Knights surrounded Aila on all sides.

As far as they were concerned, she herself was a person of interest.

The moment she approached carelessly, she would be stopped.

Anxiously, she bit her lip.

How could she get close to her half-sister without arousing suspicion?

While she was lost in thought, the royal guard knight who had been chattering incessantly suddenly fell silent.

Talia glanced upward.

The man was staring at her with a suspicious expression.

Apparently her unusual behavior had finally caught his attention.

Suppressing her unease, she sat casually at a nearby table.

Then, seeking to distract him, she abruptly said,

“I’m hungry. Bring me something to eat.”

The knight’s face brightened immediately.

The reaction was almost laughably simple.

“Please wait just a moment! I’ll bring something right away.”

Once the bothersome watchdog disappeared, Talia lowered her gaze beneath her hood and resumed observing Aila.

The First Imperial Princess was laughing repeatedly at the jokes of her maids.

Could she really do it?

Could she truly cut off that detestable woman’s breath?

Her mouth had gone completely dry.

Perhaps she would be subdued by a suspicious knight before she even had the chance to try.

If that happened, no one would dismiss it as a mischievous prank.

As her fingers played over the knife hidden in her pocket, she seriously considered whether this was worth staking her life on.

Even if Aila vanished from the world, she would never gain Varkas.

He would continue living his life exactly as before.

She would simply die on the execution grounds.

The only thing awaiting her at the end of this foolish act was a miserable death.

’Even so...’

Was watching Varkas become Aila’s husband truly better than death?

While Aila, as the future Grand Duchess of Siorcan, bore and raised his heirs, Talia would slowly wither away in agony.

Perhaps she would eventually be forced to marry whatever man Senevier chose for her.

If that happened, she would be unable to endure the touch of some vile, disgusting man and would end up hanging herself.

No.

She certainly would.

Whether she died this way or that way, death was waiting for her regardless.

Perhaps it would be better to end everything tonight.

To take Aila with her and bring the story to a clean conclusion.

At last, her resolve hardened.

Talia rose from her seat.

She started moving toward Aila as naturally as possible.

Then suddenly, a familiar figure entered her field of vision.

’That woman...’