THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) - Chapter 162
Talia twisted her wrist sharply to free her trapped hand. At that moment, the man's face, which until then had been as smooth as a mask, contorted severely.
—I am asking you where you intended to go.
Varkas roared as he pulled her violently, speaking so close to her face that he seemed to mash the words.
Talia shot him a look steeped in hostility. Her cramped leg screamed with sharp pain, but she did everything she could to feign an unperturbed countenance.
—It is none of your business where I go.
At that moment, she understood that he had completely exhausted his patience. A sound similar to that of a broken wind instrument emerged from his wide neck, where his veins stood out.
—Are you even aware of the magnitude of the danger you put yourself in today?
Talia bit her lips as she felt powerful fingers press into her skin painfully. He gripped her shoulder tightly with his other hand and spoke, accentuating each syllable, as if carving them into her mind.
—If a vagabond with malicious intentions or a criminal had found you first, have you imagined… what state you would be in right now?
Talia did everything she could not to shrink before him. As if trying to crush that effort, he continued speaking mercilessly:
—Rape, murder, looting… That you haven't suffered any of that until I found you is nothing short of a miracle.
—Don't exaggerate. I was only out for half a day…
—Exaggerate?
Sharp thorns sprouted in his eyes. The silver flecks distributed irregularly along the tissue of his iris resembled the teeth of a terrifying beast.
—Are you feigning ignorance, or are you so foolish that you don't even notice with what eyes the people around you look at you? —He roared implacably, like someone determined to humiliate her—. Do you really believe you could survive a single day outside this castle?
—Let go of me!
—Let's suppose luck had accompanied you and a night had passed without incident. What would you have done next? You, who ache and suffer just from walking a few hours…!
—I said let go of me!
With a sound similar to the crack of a whip, the palm of her hand burned. She didn't realize she had slapped him across the face until she experienced that stinging pain.
Talia stared with stupefied eyes at the man's cheek, where the mark of her hand had been clearly imprinted, and then her own face began to gradually contort. A breath as rough as sandpaper rose from her throat.
—As you said, a body that cannot walk properly… I don't care what happens to it.
The strength in his hand's grip intensified. An ominous flash erupted in his eyes, in which a crack appeared. It was the first time she had seen him so enraged. Yet, strangely, the fear began to fade. She wished he would destroy her that way instead.
She continued speaking with words broken between her teeth:
—Even if I become a greater ruin here, I don't care. Because any place will be better than remaining by your side.
In an instant, the light in his pupils, which shone with sharpness, went out. In a tone that suggested he was sick to death of her, he said to her face, which turned pale to a terrifying extreme:
—So, please, do not appear before me.
Those words seemed to strip him of all desire to fight. His hand, which was squeezing her to the point of fracturing her bones, fell weakly.
In a suffocating silence, only the crackling of the embers in the fireplace echoed for a long time. And from his lips, frozen by stupefaction, a strange voice emerged:
—Do you truly… want that?
Talia opened her mouth to answer yes. However, as if someone were choking her, she couldn't utter a single word. Her eyes flooded with hot tears. She nodded her head while lowering her gaze to hide it.
—If you don't see me, do you think you will be alright?
At the low voice that poured over her head, her heart twisted with pain. Talia forced open her oppressed throat and barely managed to articulate an answer:
—Yes.
He did not reply.
Talia threw a look full of reproach at the man sitting motionless.
*Stop this, please. To what extent must I become hideous for you to abandon me?*
She contemplated his pale face, covered by extreme exhaustion, as if engraving it into her retina, and then closed her eyes tightly.
—You said you would grant anything I asked of you, didn't you?
—…
—You have never properly kept that word.
Her tongue, habituated to resentment, pronounced things she didn't feel. She let that piece of demonic flesh dance at its own whim.
—So, at least this time, do as I wish. I don't want to face you anymore. The simple act of seeing you suffocates me. Therefore… please, let me breathe a little.
His eyelids lowered slowly and then raised. Something broke inside his eyes, which resembled a cemetery of ashes.
—... I understand very well what you mean.
The man, who carried an empty face as if nothing but the husk remained of him, rose slowly. Talia squeezed her hand, which was on the verge of reaching out to him unconsciously.
When he pulled the doorknob, a gust of cold air rushed in and scratched her damp cheek. The man paused at the entrance for an instant and then disappeared into the darkness. The sound of the door closing was similar to the blow of a guillotine blade.
Talia, who had remained frozen, leaped from the bed as if possessed. She tried to run after him just like that, but the strength vanished from her exhausted knees. Prostrate miserably on the carpet, Talia looked at her trembling legs and let out a sarcastic laugh.
Now everything was over. She would no longer have to experience the pain of the fall. Because she would rot at the bottom of despair for the rest of her life…
From that day on, Varkas never appeared before her again. Nonetheless, he didn't seem to be preparing to send her to the convent or to the imperial palace immediately. He confined his actions to keeping her in oblivion, as if he had her locked away in the room. Perhaps he was so busy concluding the accumulated matters that he had placed her problems on the back burner.
Talia sat on the edge of the window and contemplated the inner courtyard of the castle, where a light drizzle was falling under the sun. The knights of the imperial palace who had been staying at the grand duke's residence for a time were mounting their horses one after another. It seemed they had come to request military cooperation.
On one side of the vast training field, wagons loaded with weapons and hundreds of knights of the East waiting could be seen. Her eyes searched among them for a long time and, finally, she managed to spot Varkas.
Talia pressed her forehead against the glass window and looked carefully at the man standing under the drizzle. He looked well. Seeing him impart instructions to the knights with his usual cold and impeccable countenance, feelings mixed within her that she didn't know were of relief or of pain.
Talia blew a white breath onto the glass window and erased his image. The man who was crumbling before her no longer existed now. And she had no right to mourn that reality. She was the one who had pushed him away.
Talia drew the curtains over the window. Then, she approached the shelf and lit the fire in the burner. She wished the thick smoke would make her forget everything. She placed a handful of dried herbs over the flame, lay back on the bed, and closed her eyes. She felt her mind gradually fade away. The echo of the drizzle resonated in her head, which surrendered to the effect of the herbs.
She didn't know how much time she spent unconscious that way. Talia woke up to a rustling sound and blinked her blurry eyes as she saw a maid placing something next to the head of the bed. A pungent herbal aroma mixed into the stale air.
—... What is this?
The young maid looked at her with a start and with eyes filled with caution. It seemed that, ever since she had sedated them to escape, they had classified her as an extremely dangerous person, for the maids' treatment toward her had become much more formal than before. She took a step back and replied hesitantly:
—It's… they are calendula flowers. They say they help stabilize the mood…
Talia directed her gaze toward the side of the head of the bed. In a transparent jar, a bouquet of yellow flowers dampened by rainwater was placed. While she contemplated them in stupefaction, the maid added cautiously:
—His Highness the Grand Duke handed them to me before his departure.
Talia looked at her with shocked eyes.
—... His departure?
