The Forgotten Field

Lucas observed the Empress closely.

Senevier Taren Gwirta sat at the head of the long banquet table, calmly chatting with the eastern nobles. And those nobles, who by all rights should have been wary of the Empress, all listened to her every word as though they had lost their souls.

Letting out a disbelieving laugh at the absurd sight, Lucas shifted his gaze toward the woman seated to the Empress’s left.

While the Empress held the entire hall in the palm of her hand with her dazzling charm, Talia Roem Siorcan sat beside her with an icy expression, silently raising only her wineglass. The stark contrast between the two disturbed him.

‘Why does that woman always look like she’s about to die?’

At a glance, the two resembled one another enough that one might believe they were twins.

If Talia had smiled sweetly and deliberately tried to bewitch people the way the Empress did, perhaps no one in this castle would have been able to resist her.

But the woman always bristled like a hedgehog, busy driving away everyone who approached her.

Still, for a while she had seemed to be making a sincere effort to act the part of the Grand Duchess. Yet over the past several days, she had stopped even pretending to mingle with others. Even the nobles who had shown her goodwill had finally given up and turned away in exhaustion.

‘Has her health worsened again?’

The thought sprang up suddenly, and Lucas narrowed his eyes. Talia Roem Siorcan looked paler than usual, staring blankly at the candle flames on the dining table with vacant eyes.

She certainly looked ill.

Feeling strangely restless, he shifted uneasily in his seat just as Varkas entered the banquet hall.

Lucas involuntarily tensed.

His mere appearance seemed to freeze the festive atmosphere inside the hall in an instant.

Apparently he was not the only one who felt that way. Everyone gathered around the table watched the confrontation between the Empress and Varkas with tense expressions.

“It is becoming somewhat disappointing, seeing how difficult it is to catch sight of your face.”

It was Senevier who first broke the strange silence hanging over the hall.

Raising her wineglass to moisten her lips, the woman put on a deliberately disappointed expression.

“It is all well and good to reminisce with old comrades after such a long time, but I do hope you might spare some attention for me and my daughter as well.”

“If I have displeased Your Majesty, I can only offer my sincerest apologies.”

Varkas arrived at the head table, replied calmly, and sat down.

“It seems quite a number of things have transpired within the Imperial Palace during my absence. I was delayed while discussing various matters. I ask that Your Majesty forgive me.”

At those pointed words, a smile smooth enough to send chills down one’s spine appeared upon the Empress’s lips.

Seeing how composed she remained, Lucas inwardly clicked his tongue.

At present, the Empress was no different from someone who had stepped into the heart of enemy territory. Half of the escort that had accompanied her here consisted of knights belonging to the Roem Knights. In other words, she was surrounded by her political enemies.

And yet, how could she remain so tranquil?

The Empress curved her eyes into crescent moons and spoke gently.

“I do hope your conversations were meaningful.”

An uncomfortable silence once again settled over the banquet hall.

The Empress seemed perfectly aware that Varkas was moving busily to obstruct her plans. Varkas, for his part, made no attempt to hide it.

Lucas glanced at Talia from the corner of his eye.

She was clutching her wineglass tightly with a stiff face, chewing on her lower lip. She had undoubtedly already heard that her husband was exerting every effort to rescue his former fiancée.

Bringing his wineglass to his lips, Lucas glared at the inscrutable face of his elder brother.

After their father’s stone coffin had been laid within the mausoleum, he had officially been appointed an aide to the Grand Duke of Siorcan. Thanks to that, over the past few weeks he had come to understand not only the affairs of the East but also the currents of politics within the Imperial Palace.

At present, cracks had begun to appear between the East and the conservative nobles.

And the northerners were trying to wedge themselves into those fractures.

The problem was that their ambitions extended beyond merely increasing their political influence.

The people of Valto had recently been strengthening their military and expanding their power at an alarming pace.

Nor was that all.

Evidence had also been discovered that they were secretly amassing military funds through various merchant companies.

If their objective truly was the independence of Valto, then in the worst-case scenario, Aila Roem Gwirta might be reduced to a hostage used to pressure the Imperial Family. A new marriage alliance involving the First Imperial Princess held more than enough potential to ignite the division of the Empire.

Because of that, Varkas had postponed even the affairs of the Grand Ducal House and devoted himself entirely to persuading the Crown Prince and the conservative nobles.

‘If Brother had married Aila Roem Gwirta in the first place, none of this would have happened.’

Lucas grumbled inwardly.

Had Varkas remained loyal to the Crown Prince instead of yielding to the Emperor’s pressure, he would not have had to run around like this.

Laedgo Castle would have been far more harmonious as well.

Perhaps Raina would have endured Father’s death much better.

Aila Roem Gwirta was renowned as a gentle and gracious lady. Surely she would have taken good care of that girl.

And Talia would never have ruined her health in a strange land.

‘No, what does it matter whether that woman falls ill or not?’

Lucas hastily slammed the brakes on his own thoughts.

The only things he should concern himself with were House Siorcan and Raina.

The Empress and her daughter were nothing more than troublesome threats to the East.

Gathering his scattered thoughts, Lucas quietly left the banquet hall.

If he continued watching his cold elder brother, the fox-like Empress, and his ghostly pale sister-in-law, he felt his head might explode.

Pulling at the collar of his stifling doublet, he crossed the hall.

He already missed the days when he could ride without a care across the open fields.

He even found himself feeling sympathy for his brother, who had spent his entire life burdened by such headaches.

Rubbing his stiff neck, he looked out over the rear garden through the corridor window.

‘Should I go see Turgan at least?’

Thinking of his beloved horse, which had practically been neglected for nearly two weeks, he kneaded his stiff muscles when two figures standing in one corner of the rear garden caught his eye.

Servants wandering around the backyard were hardly an unusual sight, and yet Lucas halted and observed them closely.

A woman whose face seemed vaguely familiar was having a serious conversation with a young man who appeared to be one of the envoys.

Only after some time did Lucas remember that the woman was Talia Roem Gwirta’s personal healing mage.

‘Do they already know each other?’

Tilting his head, he examined them.

Judging by his attire, the young man seemed to belong to the Empress’s entourage.

Since the healer herself was also from House Taren, there was nothing strange about her meeting someone she knew among the Empress’s attendants.

And yet something vaguely unsettling tugged at the back of his mind.

“What are you doing in a place like this?”

While he was intently studying the movement of their lips, a deep voice sounded behind him.

Lucas turned his head.

Tyron, loosely draped in a black silk tunka, was strolling down the long corridor. Apparently he had followed after him when he silently left the banquet hall.

Lucas opened his mouth to explain what he had just seen.

Then he remembered that there was no real reason to find the sight suspicious and closed it again.

Turning his eyes toward the window, he saw that the two had already disappeared.

After sweeping his gaze over the garden with a dissatisfied expression, Lucas shook his head as though it were nothing.

“It’s nothing.”

The Imperial delegation departed after staying exactly one week.

Sitting on the windowsill and watching the procession disappear into the distance, Talia finally drew the curtains shut.

Even until the very last moment before her departure, Senevier repeatedly urged her to follow her wishes.

Talia never gave an answer, yet the Empress seemed convinced that she would be unable to disobey her orders.

No.

Perhaps she was not completely certain.

She had simply fanned the flames in the heart of her faithful devotee before leaving.

“You absolutely must share a bed with His Grace tonight.”

Holding up the translucent piece of cloth that the Empress had presented as a gift, the nanny spoke stubbornly after taking it out of the chest.

“Now that the funeral rites are over, there’s no longer any reason to postpone it.”