The Forgotten Field

She looked at the pile of clothes stacked high before lowering her gaze to the legs hidden beneath her skirt.

As soon as she had opened her eyes early that morning, the nurse had helped her bathe, and afterward a healing mage had come to change the bandages. She would not have to reveal her scars to these people.

Chewing lightly on her lip, Talia eventually nodded.

“Do whatever you want.”

As soon as she gave permission, the maids erected a screen in the middle of the room. Talia stood behind it like cattle being led to slaughter. A young maid approached her and removed the thin robe from her shoulders before undoing the buttons of her summer dress one by one. Soon, the loose dress wrapped around her body slid down.

Talia noticed the maid suddenly stop breathing and instinctively looked down at her petticoat. Through the thin fabric, the outline of her twisted legs could be faintly seen. Feeling her ears grow hot with humiliation, she snapped at the maid.

“Stop standing there like an idiot and finish already!”

The frozen maid hurriedly brought over the clothes. Unable to bear watching her clumsy hands any longer, the chief maid pushed the girl aside and personally dressed Talia in a milky white silk gown.

The finely pleated fabric flowed down her body like mist. The chief maid draped a translucent deep blue outer layer over it and fastened an embroidered waist ornament around her.

The double-layered silk belt was decorated with jade, yellow topaz, and small animal-shaped ornaments. Tightening it without the slightest gap to accentuate her waistline, the maid then let colorful cords adorned with metal bells and tassels hang over her hips.

The adornment did not end there. Various jewels threaded on delicate gold strands were layered around her neck and wrists, and large earrings engraved with the shape of golden birds hung from her ears.

She felt like a display stand for jewelry.

Was such an extravagant outfit really traditional clothing of the East?

Frowning suspiciously, she heard the maid dressing her in a dark navy silk coat with wide sleeves let out something like a sigh of admiration.

“You look just like Tiramer from the legends.”

“Tiramer?”

At the unfamiliar word, she furrowed her brow, and the maid immediately turned pale and clapped a hand over her mouth.

The strange reaction soured Talia’s mood.

Had she just been made a fool of?

Perhaps they were laughing at her because they knew she knew nothing.

She demanded sharply,

“What is that? Why did you stop talking?”

“Tiramer is...”

“Tiramer is the spirit of the earth who governs the seasons.”

The chief maid, pulling the front of the silk coat diagonally across her chest and securing the flowing fabric with a brooch, answered calmly.

“The people of the ancient East believed themselves to be descendants of Tiramer. Among the spirits of this land, she is regarded as the most beautiful and noble.”

Talia looked at the chief maid’s composed face with suspicion.

“Then you should’ve just said so. Why did she turn pale like that?”

“It seems Brisa feared that Your Highness might misunderstand and think that we truly believe in those legends.”

After spreading the front of the coat so it draped naturally, the chief maid straightened her posture and replied.

“The stories about Tiramer are merely ancient oral tales. We only hope that Your Highness will not question our faith because of them.”

Talia stared intently at the chief maid’s stern face. A trace of tension lingered upon the horse-like elongated features. She had no way of knowing whether it was because the woman was lying to her or because she feared being accused of heresy.

Turning her head, she finally faced the mirror she had avoided all this time.

Upon the smooth surface shrouded in deep shadows, a face horrifyingly similar to her mother’s was reflected.

However, unlike the explosive vitality possessed by Senevier, gloomy gray shadows lay over those exquisite features.

Eyes that looked starved for something.

A gaunt face.

A pitiful body far inferior to the perfectly balanced sensual form of Senevier...

Suddenly, Gareth’s mocking voice echoed in her ears.

‘A woman’s face attached to a monster’s body...’

Her face, as though it had awkwardly imitated her mother’s, twisted hideously.

It hurt to look at herself—something broken before it had ever been completed.

She abruptly turned away.

“If you’re finished, move aside! How long are you going to keep touching me?”

She roughly brushed away the hands tending to her hair, causing the maid behind her to flinch and retreat.

The chief maid let out a quiet sigh.

“We still need to place the crown upon you. Please bear with us a little longer.”

A waiting maid immediately brought over a golden ceremonial crown. After placing it upon her head, the chief maid coiled up her long hair into a rounded shape and secured it with jade ornaments.

Finally, once all the adornments were complete, the maids stepped back and bowed respectfully.

“We shall escort Your Highness to His Grace’s residence.”

The chief maid stepped toward the door as she spoke.

Talia watched her for a moment with anxious eyes before following behind.

Dozens of soldiers were waiting in the corridor.

As she carefully stepped forward between them, the sound of her limp echoed through the hall.

She tried to walk as naturally as possible, but as always, her stiff leg betrayed her will.

Trying not to reveal her shame, she lifted her chin proudly.

After walking for some time, the chief maid stopped.

“This room.”

She pointed toward a large door opposite the staircase.

Apparently, the Grand Duke’s quarters were on the same floor. Relieved that she would not have to climb any stairs, Talia approached the massive mahogany doors.

“We have brought Her Highness the Princess.”

When the chief maid announced respectfully, a dignified voice came from inside.

“Enter.”

The chief maid obeyed immediately.

As the maids opened both doors at once, a spacious room filled with retainers came into view.

Meeting dozens of eyes fixed upon her, Talia felt her spine stiffen.

The neatly dressed men were staring at her with expressions of utter shock.

Suddenly, a chill ran down her back.

Had something gone wrong with her appearance?

She looked down at her clothing.

Perhaps they had dressed her incorrectly on purpose to make her a laughingstock. Perhaps they had lied about it being eastern traditional attire and dressed her like some ridiculous clown.

She glared at the chief maid as though she wanted to tear her face apart.

Then another thought struck her.

What if her legs were visible beneath the fabric?

Lowering her gaze again, she looked down.

Nothing could be seen besides the heavily pleated skirts. But perhaps the shape of her deformed legs could be seen from the front.

Cold sweat ran down her back.

Her eyes darted around desperately, looking as though she wanted to flee that instant.

Then heavy footsteps approached.

Startled, Talia raised her head and widened her eyes.

Varkas had somehow already come to stand before her.

He was dressed in attire similar to hers.

A black silk tunic with a subtle sheen, a belt embroidered with intricate golden patterns, and a wide outer coat draped diagonally over his shoulders flowed elegantly along the lines of his sturdy body.

Spellbound, Talia’s eyes traveled downward before she felt warm fingers touching the tip of her chin.

Looking up, she saw large earrings set with blue gemstones and a necklace adorned with hanging yellow topaz glittering beneath the sunlight.

Her heart dropped.

This was the first time she had seen him wearing so many jewels.

Wasn’t he a man whose appearance had always been more ascetic than that of any priest?

Lavishly adorned, Varkas no longer looked like a knight of the Roem Empire.

He looked like the ruler of some ancient barbarian tribe.

“Does your leg hurt, perhaps?”

After studying her intently, Varkas asked in a deeply subdued voice.

Finally regaining her senses, Talia slapped his hand away and took a step back.

It felt as though he would hear the violent pounding of her heart.

“I-I’m perfectly fine.”

She tried to appear calm, but both cheeks burned as though they had been set on fire.

Blue eyes settled upon her flushed face.

Varkas frowned and placed his hand against her forehead.

“Has your fever returned ag—”

“I said I’m fine!”