The Forgotten Field

Recalling that day still made his insides feel raw.

Though branded a bastard, she had been raised as an Imperial Princess. All her life, she had worn only the finest garments and jewels, each selected with painstaking care. She had been so obsessively fastidious about cleanliness that it bordered on a compulsion. Yet that same woman had tried to sleep atop a filthy pile of dusty straw, looking no better than a beggar.

Simply because she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

He forced himself to tear his gaze away from her face.

Don’t read too much into her sudden change in attitude.

With time, even her suffering must have worn down. As the pain of losing their child gradually dulled, perhaps the resentment she held toward him had eased as well.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to be with him.

So stop entertaining pointless hopes.

”Yesterday...”

The unexpected voice pulled Varkas from his thoughts. He turned away from the carriage window.

The blue eyes that had been gazing outside were now fixed on him.

”Where did you sleep last night?”

His brows drew together at the abrupt question, but he answered automatically.

”In the bedroom attached to my office.”

”From now on, sleep in your own bedroom.”

For a moment, his thoughts came to a complete stop.

He stared at her in silence.

Talia, idly fiddling with one of the metal ornaments hanging from her belt, added in an indifferent tone,

”If you keep sleeping there, the servants will start whispering that the Grand Duchess chased His Grace out of the bedroom.”

He frowned.

Strictly speaking... wasn’t that exactly what had happened?

The thought crossed his mind, but he kept it to himself.

Still tugging so hard on the ornament that it looked ready to snap off, she continued gruffly,

”I’m going to keep using my room, so you should use yours. The war’s over now. You’ll be staying at Laedgo Castle from now on, won’t you? His Grace can’t keep living in the study forever.”

”You needn’t concern yourself with me. I’ll be buried in the backlog of official work for quite some time. I doubt I’ll spend much time in my bedroom anyway.”

”Do you handle everything in the Grand Duchy by yourself?”

She suddenly snapped.

”You’ve only just come back after spending two years on the battlefield. What official work could possibly be that urgent?”

Suppressing a sigh, he explained calmly,

”There are matters that no regent or vassal can decide in my place. I’ve been away for a long time. There are countless issues I need to familiarize myself with.”

”You still need proper sleep! Other nobles spend their days hunting, attending banquets, and wasting time. Why are you always working?”

”The people who live like that usually end up bankrupt... or overthrown by those closest to them.”

”Not all of them. You’re just terrible at taking shortcuts.”

Rather than explaining the complexity of governing an enormous city like Kalmor and hundreds of vast territories, he simply nodded.

”Yes. I’m simply not very good at that.”

A flush spread across her cheeks.

He deliberately looked away from her sulky expression.

He didn’t want to fool himself into believing she was angry because she was worried about him.

Or... perhaps a small part of it really was concern.

She bristled at everyone, yet beneath all those thorns was someone surprisingly soft-hearted.

Back when they had first married, he had known she was slowly beginning to open her heart to him.

If their child had survived...

They would probably still be sharing one room.

There wouldn’t be these awkward silences as they cautiously tried to gauge each other’s feelings.

Their child would be two years old by now.

Perhaps they would lie side by side at night with a little boy between them, patiently soothing his occasional tantrums before falling asleep.

The image surfaced so vividly in his mind that Varkas immediately crushed it.

He refused to become a fool lost in impossible fantasies.

”In any case, don’t worry about me. Please continue using that bedroom. You’ll need the larger room if Khan is going to stay with you.”

”That’s true... but people will still say I’m some horrible wife who drove her husband into the study.”

”If anyone says such a thing, I’ll have them thrown out of the castle.”

”You seriously think that’s a solution? If you do that, they’ll only blame me even more!”

At last, one of the tiny ornaments hanging from her belt snapped off beneath her fingers.

She absentmindedly rolled it between her fingertips before speaking hesitantly.

”So maybe we should just—”

Just then, the carriage, which had been rolling along at a steady pace, came to a halt.

A guard lightly knocked on the door.

”We’ve arrived, Your Grace.”

”Wait.”

Varkas answered rather curtly before looking back at Talia.

”Please continue.”

”...Never mind.”

She rose to her feet with a sullen expression, swaying slightly.

Varkas instinctively reached toward her waist to steady her.

Then his hand clenched into a fist.

She looked back at him with obvious exasperation.

”Are you just going to stand there? Escort me already.”

Only then did Varkas rise.

He stepped outside first and extended his hand.

Talia took it firmly before slowly descending from the carriage.

The moment her feet touched the ground, waves of astonished gasps swept through the crowd.

Turning his head, Varkas saw the citizens gathered for the sacramental ceremony staring at his wife in complete fascination.

Some had their mouths hanging open.

A few were even drooling.

His brows knitted together.

He immediately wrapped one hand firmly around her silky-soft forearm and subtly shielded her with his broad frame.

It wasn’t enough.

There were simply too many eyes fixed upon her.

Enduring those sticky, lingering stares, he led her toward the cathedral entrance.

The moment they stepped into the vast sanctuary, cool air brushed against them.

Thousands of citizens filling the pews rose as one.

Wealthy merchants.

Minor nobles.

Officials he had personally appointed.

An enormous sea of faces.

Ignoring those desperate to catch his attention, Varkas headed toward the seats of honor.

At the top of the wide marble staircase flanking the altar stood the private seating reserved exclusively for House Siorkan.

He allowed Talia to climb the stairs first before following behind her.

He had assumed she would want to hide the slight limp in her walk.

Instead, she appeared utterly unconcerned by the countless eyes upon her.

Expressionless, chin held high, she grasped the railing with one hand and slowly climbed the stairs.

Everyone in the cathedral watched her in breathless silence.

It was less the admiration reserved for a beautiful woman...

...and more the reverence one might show a divine being.

Perhaps sensing the strange atmosphere filling the sanctuary, the presiding priest abruptly leapt to his feet and sharply rang the ceremonial bell atop the altar.

Those who had seemed entranced immediately came back to themselves.

”The sacramental ceremony will now begin.”

As the priest solemnly declared the opening of the rite, shame and guilt spread across several men’s faces.

Varkas slowly clenched his fists.

He could easily imagine the filthy fantasies that had crossed their minds.

After all, during the years he had served as her personal knight, he had constantly guarded against men who watched her with eyes clouded by greed.

Suppressing his irritation, he remained close at her side.

Lucas, Raina, and the rest of their relatives were already seated in the reserved gallery on the second floor.

His younger siblings greeted him with sullen expressions.

He acknowledged them with a slight nod before sitting beside Talia.

Soon, the choirboys rose and began singing an ancient Osirian hymn.

How long had he been staring at the performance in bored silence?

A soft laugh suddenly brushed against his ear.

Startled, he turned his head.

She was looking at him with the mischievous grin of a child about to cause trouble.

”Look.”

She leaned close and whispered into his ear.

”His face is practically purple.”

He forced himself to look where she indicated.

Only after several seconds did he realize she was pointing at the High Priest standing before the altar.

The man was glaring at her as though she had committed outright blasphemy.

”The last time I came to the Grand Cathedral, he kept lecturing me to dress as plainly as possible and cover my face with a veil.”

She giggled, sounding almost like a wicked nymph.

”So I showed up dressed like this just to spite him. I guess he’s furious.”

Varkas frowned.

She had never been especially devout.

But neither had she ever displayed such open hostility toward the Church.

If anything, there had been times when she read theological texts with remarkable enthusiasm.

So what on earth had happened...

...to make her become so openly antagonistic toward the clergy?