The Forgotten Field

Chapter 205

Sponsored

* * *

Still covered in dust, Varkas stormed through the castle gates, abandoning the light warhorse that convulsed on the ground with bloody foam spilling from its mouth as he crossed the training yard.

Hundreds of mounted warriors, having heard of the Grand Ducal Heir's return, poured out of the barracks. Without sparing so much as a glance for the knights who bent their waists in unison, Varkas strode straight up the stone steps and passed through the inner gate.

The late autumn garden spread across his field of vision.

He crossed the courtyard, where fallen leaves lay in thick layers, in a single sweep before striding into the Great Hall, where dozens of servants stood lined up in silence.

"Y-Your Grace, you've returned."

The head butler, waiting beside the entrance, greeted him in a trembling voice.

"You must have had a difficult journey. As you've already been informed..."

"How is Lucas?"

Pulling back the hood that shadowed his head, Varkas cut the butler off coldly.

The wrinkled old man, his face filled with grief, answered stiffly.

"Thanks to the High Priest's efforts, he barely survived the worst of it... but the wound to his throat was so severe that... they fear it may leave him permanently disabled..."

The man was unable to finish and pressed his lips tightly together.

The head maid, standing to the left of the entrance, quietly continued in his place.

"The exact prognosis won't be known until Young Master Lucas regains consciousness."

"He still hasn't awakened?"

"He lost far too much blood when the accident happened. They said it will take some time before he fully recovers his strength."

Varkas stood motionless for a moment before speaking in a subdued voice.

"I want to see him myself. Where is Lucas?"

"We've moved him to the bedroom he normally uses on the second floor."

Without another word, he crossed the hall.

After climbing the staircase covered in a deep-colored carpet, the bedroom that generations of the Grand Dukes of Siorcan had used came into view.

The head maid walked past it and led him into the upper gallery.

"That room."

She pointed toward a door located in the eastern wing.

Varkas stepped forward and grasped the handle. With a heavy creak, the darkened bedroom slowly revealed itself.

He strode inside and slowly surveyed the room.

Maids gathered to attend the patient, the High Priest with a gloomy face, and Raina, whose eyes were swollen red, all stood surrounding the bed.

"Y-Your Grace..."

One of the maids, noticing him at last, hurriedly bowed her head. The others quickly followed suit, rising to offer their respects. Varkas walked straight past them to the bedside. Beyond the canopy lay his younger brother, motionless as if dead, thick bandages wrapped around his neck.

Looking silently at Lucas's pale, bloodless face, Varkas addressed the priest standing at the head of the bed.

"Has there been any improvement?"

The priest shook his head heavily.

"We'll need to wait longer. I've been maintaining healing magic continuously, but... the injury was simply too severe..."

Varkas lowered his eyes to Lucas again.

Only a few months ago, his face had been full of life. Now it was gray and frighteningly gaunt. After hovering between life and death for more than ten days, it was no surprise he looked more like a corpse than a living man.

His hand slowly clenched into a fist.

Then a sharp voice rang out from nearby.

"Are you satisfied now?"

His gaze shifted to the opposite side of the bed.

Raina looked nearly as haggard as Lucas himself, glaring at him with unconcealed resentment.

"Every single one of the retainers told you that wolf had to be put down, but you ignored them because you only listened to that woman! Lucas ended up like this because of you. It's all because you let that wolf live!"

"M-Miss!"

The head maid cried out in alarm, trying to stop her, but Raina paid no attention.

"Get out! You have no right to be here!"

Her scream echoed through the bedroom.

Varkas looked down expressionlessly at his furious sister.

Then he quietly turned and walked out.

By the time he stepped into the corridor, six or seven retainers had already gathered after hearing of his arrival.

One of them stepped forward solemnly.

"Your Grace, we can no longer overlook Her Grace the Grand Duchess's atrocities."

Varkas remained silent.

The man flinched beneath his icy gaze before continuing with renewed determination.

"Her Grace secretly released the beast that attacked Young Master Lucas. She doesn't care in the slightest about the safety of the people of the East! How much longer are we supposed to endure her crimes in silence?"

Another man immediately chimed in, his voice filled with indignation.

"That beast which attacked Young Master Lucas must be put down immediately! And Her Grace the Grand Duchess must receive appropriate punishment as well."

Varkas stared expressionlessly down the corridor, where darkness had already begun to gather.

Heavy shadows had also fallen over the door to the bedroom he and she had once shared.

The thought that she might be hearing every accusation being hurled at her made every nerve in his body tighten sharply. Disgusted by his own reaction, he pressed hard against the bridge of his nose.

"Form a hunting party immediately. I'll deal with that wolf myself."

"And Her Grace the Grand Duchess..."

"She will receive appropriate punishment as well."

One of the retainers took a step forward, seemingly intending to ask what punishment he meant, but an elder among them quietly restrained him.

Leaving them behind, Varkas climbed the stairs to the third floor.

Entering the room attached to his study, he found a neatly made bed and a fireplace that had already been lit.

He casually threw his tattered robe onto the floor, removed his breastplate and set it upon its stand.

After stripping off his dust-covered outer garments, he filled a basin with water and washed the sweat and dirt from his face.

Only then did someone knock at the door.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"Come in."

The door slowly opened, and a pale figure entered like a ghost.

Varkas looked at her with frozen eyes.

Talia Roem Siorcan looked much as he himself had after awakening from the brink of death.

Her thick hair hung carelessly down her back, and she looked up at him with anxious eyes.

He stared at the face he had not seen for months for a long while before calmly picking up a towel and wiping his face.

Then, in a frigid voice, he addressed the guards standing by the door.

"Escort the Grand Duchess to the chambers on the third floor. Until further notice, she is not to leave them without my permission."

The soldiers immediately approached her to carry out the order.

Avoiding them, she hurried toward him and pleaded desperately.

"J-Just a moment. Please... just talk to me for a moment."

Varkas, halfway through putting on a clean shirt, glanced down at her.

Her body, wrapped in a wrinkled linen dress, had become alarmingly thin.

A surge of inexplicable anger burned through him.

Suppressing it with every ounce of self-control, he gestured toward the guards.

"Wait outside."

The soldiers immediately withdrew.

Only then did some of the tension leave her shoulders.

He watched her carefully before taking a fresh doublet from the shelf.

"I cannot spare much time. If you have something to say, say it."

"L-Lucas... is he alright?"

The hesitant question drew a dry laugh from him.

"What do you think?"

She bit her lip tightly and lowered her head.

Watching her with eyes as cold as ice, he eventually let out a weary sigh and turned away.

He slipped the wool doublet over his thin shirt and methodically fastened each piece of his leather armor.

Then her frail, tear-filled voice shattered the deadly silence.

"Please... spare Khan."

Varkas froze.

Slowly, he turned his head.

She seized his arm and desperately continued.

"I-I'll do anything you say from now on... anything. I'll never argue with the retainers again... I'll treat the servants kindly too. If you tell me to spend the rest of my life locked inside my room, I will... Please... please don't kill Khan."

It felt as though he had swallowed boiling oil.

He grabbed her chin roughly.

Lowering his face until it was directly before hers, he spoke in a voice filled with menace.

"My brother is lying on the brink of death. And yet all you're worried about is the life of that damned beast."

The color drained completely from her face.

Varkas glared at her pale features as though he wanted to devour them before flinging his hand away.

Then he turned his back on her mercilessly.

"The days of indulging your whims are over. That beast injured a person. I can't allow it to remain alive any longer."




🎧 Scoutpaw Cat Lofi
100%
🎧 Scoutpaw Cat Lofi — now playing