THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) - CHAPTER 155
CHAPTER 155 THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)
Tiuran swallowed hard.
"My God… Could it be possible that he hasn't slept for a single moment since the day the duchess lost consciousness?".
She poured the water into the basin and then glanced at him sideways before quickly shaking her head, as if rejecting the idea.
An ordinary human being could not stay awake for so long and still remain standing so firmly. Surely he had been taking turns with Marisen to look after her, and perhaps she simply had not coincided with his sleeping hours.
"Give me the towel."
His voice abruptly interrupted her thoughts.
Tiuran became a little nervous before dampening a clean towel with the cold water and wringing it out well, then placing it on his outstretched hand.
He took it immediately and began to wipe his wife's forehead with extreme care, as if touching a piece of crystal prone to breaking. And in reality… Talia looked exactly like that.
A pale and exhausted body, motionless as a corpse, as if it would crumble if anyone touched it with a little more strength. Perhaps for that reason, he could not take his eyes off her.
Tiuran hesitated for a moment before murmuring in a low voice:
"Her Highness is gradually improving… She is no longer in danger, so you can leave the matter of her care in our hands."
"It seems Daryn has started complaining even to the servants."
His voice sounded cold and sharp as a sword, which made Tiuran fall silent immediately. He continued speaking calmly while passing the cold side of the towel over Talia's neck, damp with sweat:
"If he asks you, tell him the duke says the following."
He paused for an instant and then added with a lethal slowness:
"Why do the incompetents who cannot bear my absence for just a few days eat from the food of my house?"
Even though the words were not directed at her, a chill ran down Tiuran's spine.
He gestured with his head without looking at her.
"You are hindering me. Leave now."
"... I will stay in the next room. Call me if you need anything."
She backed away in silence, and during that path, the man's eyes did not deviate from his wife's face for even a second. The faint light of the sunset filtering through the window was reflected on his pale features, making him look painfully lonely… as if that severe dignity resembling frost were nothing more than a mask.
Only at that moment did Tiuran feel that this man was the one who needed to stay by Talia's side, and not the other way around. She contemplated his face sunken in exhaustion for a few moments, then went out in silence and closed the door behind her.
Time passed without mercy.
Talia's wounds began to heal little by little. The throbbing pain in her womb, that pain that constantly whispered to her, "Do not forget what you lost," gradually became lighter. And the bleeding finally ceased after a few days.
The pain in her waist and pelvis persisted, but it was no longer compared to the pains of pregnancy and childbirth. Even the constant numbness in her legs began to diminish, and she was able to move with greater ease now that her body felt lighter.
However, all of that… only made her feel more miserable.
It was difficult for her to accept that her body was slowly returning to its previous state, as if the baby she had carried in her womb had never existed. Her mind remained trapped in that night, while her body stubbornly insisted on returning to life.
Sometimes, she laughed lightly due to the intense dizziness and the absurdity of the situation. She never understood why everyone worried about her health; her body seemed to reject death with obstinacy despite everything she had gone through. Even after losing her child in the midst of a pain that tore her insides apart, and even after her legs ended up shattered, this body kept clinging to life as if refusing to give up.
And for that, she felt hatred toward herself.
"Then… just leave me alone," she said, looking with disgust at the bowl of oatmeal he was offering her.
At first, she rejected the food only with silence. But after he insisted repeatedly, on one occasion she overturned the bowl. Despite that… he did not get angry. He ordered new food to be prepared and then returned to try to feed her in the usual manner between them.
However, something was different this time. There was no longer warmth, nor desire, nor even stubbornness. Only a feeling of cold duty… like a mother bird feeding her sick chick because she is forced to do so.
Paradoxically, this was what hurt her the most. She felt that the change in him clearly told her that she had failed as a woman. And that pain drove her more insane, because despite everything, she still felt hurt because of him.
She pushed his hand away with a violent weakness and then took the spoon herself. She consumed the food and drank the medicine as if swallowing her desires to die.
From that day on, she stopped offering resistance to him. She ate in silence and avoided looking at him, while he watched her with a calmness that seemed like a guard.
After finishing the meal with difficulty, he gave her the medication and then lay down beside her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He did that every night… to prevent her from crawling out of bed and going to the grave. Talia endured his arm around her body in silence, though she felt it like a heavy chain.
Then, she suddenly whispered:
"... Light the sleeping incense."
He pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and looked at her with an enigmatic silence. Seeing that he did not move, she moistened her dry lips and added:
"I cannot sleep deeply… I need it."
He stayed contemplating her intently for a long time without saying anything, before finally getting up.
She followed him with her gaze for an instant and then turned her view toward the window. The crimson sky was gradually sinking into a dense darkness, as if the blood itself were being devoured by the night.
Talia closed her eyes as the strong aroma of the smoke began to fill the room. She felt him return to the bed, then draw her toward his chest and wrap her head carefully between his arms. When her senses began to turn off, those touches were no longer as painful as before. Finally, she fell asleep of her own free will.
But the calm did not last long.
She woke up when the window was tinged a dark blue and the faint red light of dawn touched the castle walls. She got up staggering and stayed looking at the sky outside the window for a long time.
Suddenly, she realized what had awakened her. There was a faint sound of crying… mixed with the whistling of the wind. She sketched a pale laugh. She had become accustomed to these hallucinations during the last few days, but even so, her heart tore apart every time she heard them.
She covered her ears quickly, but the sound of crying gained more strength inside her head. And it began to seem to her as if it were blaming her.
Does it cry like this every night because it hates her? Because she could not give birth to it alive?
That thought alone was enough to drive her crazy.
She hurried toward the door, but stopped upon feeling an arm encircle her waist. She turned slowly.
Varkas was asleep.
He had buried his face in the pillow, while his arm remained wrapped around her even while sleeping. She looked at him with astonishment. His sleep seemed so deep and strange that it made her wonder for an instant if perhaps he had died.
Was he not the man who woke up as soon as she moved even just a little? It was true that his arm remained as strong as a chain, but his consciousness seemed completely disconnected.
"... Could it be because of the sleeping incense?".
The idea appeared slowly in the middle of her clouded mind. He usually was not very affected by it. Perhaps… he was too exhausted from watching over her.
She stayed contemplating his face for a long time; even in his weakness, he seemed alert in some way, as if fearing to leave her alone even during sleep.
Then, as if something drew her toward him, she raised her hand slowly toward the strands of hair that brushed against his eyelids.
