The Forgotten Field

A sharp beam of light forced its way through his eyelids.

Looking up through half-open eyes at the brilliantly illuminated window, Varkas slowly sat upright.

For a few moments, he couldn’t quite recognize where he was. Only after several seconds did he remember that he had returned to Laedgo Castle.

Letting out a long breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Perhaps because he had slept until the sun was already high in the sky, the leaden exhaustion weighing down his body had eased considerably. Yet his mind still felt sluggish, as though shrouded in thick fog.

Running his fingers carelessly through his disheveled hair, he rose to his feet.

He must have tossed and turned violently in his sleep, as the ceremonial uniform he had worn the previous day was hopelessly wrinkled.

Undoing the buttons of his creased shirt with one hand, Varkas rang the bell beside the bed.

“Prepare bathwater and a fresh change of clothes.”

The young attendant hurried into the room and promptly returned with an Eastern ceremonial outfit tailored in the Imperial style, along with a bath.

Varkas stripped off his badly wrinkled clothes and lowered himself into the steaming water infused with mint leaves.

He had already wasted most of the morning and should have hurried, yet he found himself reluctant to leave the bath.

Even after obsessively washing himself from head to toe, he lingered until he finally heard anxious footsteps pacing outside the door.

Only then did he climb out.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

After dressing impeccably in his formal attire and stepping into the corridor, he was greeted by Baredon, Daren’s nephew, who bowed with military precision.

“I trust Your Grace rested well last night? Having only just returned and immediately resumed official duties, you must be terribly fatigued. I sincerely regret having to trouble you with this, but—”

“Get to the point.”

Cutting off the lengthy preamble, Varkas continued walking.

Flustered, the young man hurried after him.

“M-My apologies. At the sixth hour today—noon—the Holy Rite is scheduled to be held at the Grand Sanctuary. In order to uphold the High Priest’s authority, it has been decided that this regular ceremony should be conducted there rather than at the chapel within the castle grounds...”

Varkas briefly looked through the window toward the towering temple spire rising above the grounds of Laedgo Castle before giving a slight nod.

“Very well. Have the carriage prepared. We’ll leave immediately.”

“And your meal...?”

“Unnecessary. If we’re to arrive on time, we can’t afford to waste any more time.”

“Understood. I’ll summon the coachman immediately.”

The man rushed down the stairs ahead of him.

There were still around twenty minutes before the carriage would be ready.

Using the time, Varkas stopped by his office, handed yesterday’s letter to a courier, and reviewed the official documents requiring his immediate signature.

Just as he finished signing the last document and set down his pen, a servant sent by Baredon arrived to report that everything was ready.

Handing the documents intended for the council over to his secretary, Varkas left the office.

Descending the stairs and crossing the great hall, he stepped into the brilliant sunlight flooding the gardens.

At this rate, arriving on time seemed unlikely.

Frowning up at the sun already hanging directly overhead, he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Well, this is unusual. I never imagined you’d oversleep.”

Varkas instinctively turned around.

His eyes widened at the sight of his wife sitting beside the pavilion.

Talia rose from the bench and walked toward him, the enormous wolf following faithfully at her side.

“I thought my neck was going to break from waiting for you to come out.”

His gaze drifted to her softly pouting crimson lips before slowly taking in her appearance.

She wore a luxurious silk gown favored by noblewomen of the East, accented by a belt adorned with elaborate metal ornaments that swayed with every step.

She looked less like a noblewoman than a goddess from some forgotten pagan faith.

For the first time, Varkas thought he finally understood why so many people of the East associated her with the Earth Spirit.

For some inexplicable reason, warmth rose into his face.

“...You were waiting for me?”

She nodded matter-of-factly.

“You’re going to the Grand Sanctuary, aren’t you? I’m coming too.”

Varkas frowned as though she had spoken in an unfamiliar language.

When he remained silent, one corner of her eyes lifted.

“What? Am I not allowed to attend the Holy Rite? The Grand Duchess is supposed to be present too.”

Since when have you ever cared about rules?

Looking at her in disbelief, Varkas let out a quiet sigh.

“You don’t have to force yourself to attend somewhere that makes you uncomfortable out of a sense of obligation. Didn’t you say you had an unpleasant experience at the Grand Sanctuary?”

“That’s exactly why I’m going.”

A mischievous smile spread across her face.

“I want to see whether that old man dares to preach against me while you’re sitting right there.”

Varkas quietly studied her face before letting out a faint laugh.

Apparently, this woman intended to use him as a shield while picking a fight with the High Priest.

It was obvious that her presence would interfere with his plan to smooth over the conflict with the Church through diplomacy.

And yet...

In the end, he nodded.

“As you wish.”

Relief flashed across her face.

Only then did he realize she had secretly feared he would refuse.

“Well then, let’s go.”

Talia extended her hand toward him.

He simply stared at her slender arm until her somewhat irritated voice rang out.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to escort me?”

Only then did he realize she was asking for his arm.

Carefully wrapping his hand around her soft forearm, he helped her.

She naturally leaned against him.

The sweet fragrance surrounding her only made his already confused thoughts even more tangled.

Why is she suddenly acting like this?

Looking down at her suspiciously, he saw her urge him on in an impatient voice.

“What are you waiting for?”

Searching her face as though trying to uncover her true intentions, Varkas ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) finally began walking.

The dire wolf, which had been sitting obediently beside them, immediately rose to follow as though it were only natural.

Varkas quietly stepped between Talia and the wolf.

“That wolf... Khan cannot come with us.”

“I know that much.”

Replying somewhat curtly, she turned toward the beast wagging its tail.

“Wait here for a little while. I’ll be back soon.”

She then gestured toward the maids waiting nearby.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Take care of Khan.”

The moment the order left her lips, the maids carefully surrounded the wolf.

Varkas observed the dire wolf’s reaction.

Although its bright eyes flashed with dissatisfaction at being separated from its master, it showed no signs of aggression.

It neither bared its fangs nor growled.

Even so, he ordered the soldiers to keep a close watch over the wolf for the maids’ safety before escorting Talia toward the carriage.

“Hold onto my shoulder.”

Obediently placing her hand upon his shoulder, Talia gathered her skirts in one hand and carefully climbed into the carriage.

Varkas followed after her, taking the seat opposite before signaling the coachman.

Soon, the carriage began rolling through the castle grounds.

Leaning back against the gently swaying seat, Varkas watched his wife.

Talia was practically pressed against the window, gazing outside as though every passing view were a marvelous spectacle.

She was clearly trying not to show it, yet it was equally obvious that simply sharing the same space with him made her profoundly uncomfortable.

Then why had she insisted on accompanying him?

Had she finally realized how unstable her position as Grand Duchess had become and decided to change her attitude?

Yet even last year, she had shown not the slightest attachment to the title of Grand Duchess.

Hadn’t she even tried to secretly flee the castle two years ago?