The Forgotten Field

The chief maid froze at the murderous tone before hastily bowing and hurrying down the corridor.

Leaning against the doorframe, Varkas watched her go.

Then, seized by an inexplicable impulse, he followed after her.

He himself had no idea what he intended to do.

With long strides, he quickly overtook the chief maid and climbed the stairs before approaching the wide-open entrance to the bedchamber.

At that very moment, a shrill voice pierced his ears.

“Get out of my way!”

Turning his head, Varkas narrowed his eyes at the sight of a quarter-dwarf arguing with the maids in the middle of the bedroom, where belongings lay scattered everywhere.

Shoving the young maids trying to stop her aside with powerful arms, the woman shouted,

“I'm only taking the things my young lady brought with her when she came here as a bride! Why are you stopping me?!”

“Don't be ridiculous! Do you honestly think it's acceptable to take Her Grace's belongings without permission?”

“You're going to bring in a new Grand Duchess anyway, aren't you? What, are you planning to hand all my young lady's things over to that woman when she comes?”

Still shouting at the top of her lungs, the woman suddenly burst into tears.

After noisily blowing her nose into a handkerchief, she grabbed every dress piled on the bed and stuffed them haphazardly into the chest on the floor.

“You think I'm going to stand by and watch that happen? Every one of these was given to my young lady by Her Majesty the Empress! I'm taking every last one of them back to the Empress's Palace!”

“Since when did you care so much about Her Grace?!”

One of the younger maids, her face flushed with anger, grabbed the quarter-dwarf by the arm.

But she was no match for the tremendous strength inherited from dwarven blood.

The woman shook her off as though brushing away a fly and resumed sweeping Talia's belongings into the chest.

Watching the scene with a cold expression, Varkas slowly crossed the room.

Only then did the maids notice him, hurriedly bowing their heads.

Ignoring them, Varkas stopped in front of the quarter-dwarf and quietly surveyed the chests stacked across the floor.

Silk garments, jewelry, finely crafted objects that appeared to be dwarf-made, and expensive books had all been carelessly thrown together.

As his eyes passed over them one by one, they suddenly stopped on a crumpled dress.

The woman, clutching an armful of clothes against her chest while nervously watching his expression, instinctively stepped backward.

Varkas seized her wrist without warning.

Still gripping her, he turned and walked toward the door.

Startled, she threw down the clothes in her arms and struggled, but she had no hope of overcoming his strength.

Dragged helplessly into the corridor, she collapsed onto the floor and glared up at him indignantly.

Ignoring her completely, he barked at the guards,

“Send this woman back to the capital immediately!”

Then he looked down at her with icy eyes and added,

“I'll permit you to take your own personal belongings. As for anything else, don't even dream of it.”

“How can you be so heartless?!”

Her lips trembled uncontrollably as she raised her voice in outrage.

“Do you not care in the slightest how devastated Her Majesty the Empress must have been when she learned my young lady had died? Returning her daughter's belongings to her is only right!”

At that instant, something seemed to rupture inside his temple.

His hand spasmed as he seized the woman by the collar.

She choked, looking up at him with terror-filled eyes.

Varkas gazed down at her expressionlessly before speaking in a quiet voice.

“Leave peacefully. Cause trouble one more time, and you'll never see the Empress you worship so dearly again.”

The color drained from the woman's face in an instant.

He released her as though throwing her aside, then motioned toward the line of maids behind him.

“All of you, leave.”

After a brief hesitation, the maids filed out of the room like the retreating tide.

When the sound of their footsteps had faded away, Varkas turned toward the devastated bedroom.

The room, bathed in dim light and looking like the ruins of a once-living place, suddenly made him feel as though he were suffocating.

Without hesitation, he walked to the bedside and began putting everything back in order.

He carefully wiped clean the glass bottles containing her perfumes and rose oil before neatly arranging them on the shelf beside the bed.

The clothes scattered across the floor were folded with meticulous care and returned to her wardrobe one by one.

Afterward, he began placing each piece of jewelry back where it belonged.

He couldn't understand why he was doing it himself.

If he had simply ordered the maids, the room would have been restored in moments.

Yet he remained possessed by a single obsessive thought—

Everything that belonged to her had to be returned to its proper place.

He worked without stopping until, inside one poorly constructed chest, he discovered something strange.

His eyes narrowed.

Nestled among the tangled jewelry was a gaudy little jewel box—the sort only young girls would become enamored with.

He stared at the oddly out-of-place box for a long while before kneeling on the floor and carefully lifting it out.

The old box was scratched with age and fitted with an intricate lock.

After examining it from every angle, he concluded that it required a key and began searching through the chest again.

This time, he found a worn old book wrapped in a tattered cover.

Absentmindedly opening it, he glanced across the page—

And his entire body went rigid.

The handwriting was messy, hastily scribbled.

Yet he recognized it instantly.

It was hers.

[Tiuran suggested I try keeping a diary. She said it might help ease my symptoms.

When I told her I had no idea what I was supposed to write, she said I should simply write down whatever thoughts kept circling in my mind. So... I'm scribbling down something, anything.

But no matter how I think about it, this feels stupid. There's no way something like this could really make me better.]

Varkas slowly read the rough handwriting.

Then his gaze froze on the date written at the top of the page.

She had written it not long after he had departed on his first campaign.

His trembling fingers turned the page.

Several more entries followed, written with obvious reluctance.

Most were about the young wolf.

Occasionally, a sentence or two mentioned the healer.

Although the tone remained curt and blunt, Varkas could tell that she had gradually begun opening her heart to the woman named Tiuran.

[Something Tiuran said today has stayed in my mind all day.

She said that some wounds never disappear, no matter how many years pass...

Why did those words comfort me so much?

Perhaps because... it felt as though someone had finally given me permission to hurt as much as I needed.

Because of that... I think I might finally be able to forgive myself, just a little.]

Varkas read the passage over and over with unfocused eyes before carefully turning the next page with trembling fingers.

Perhaps something had changed after that day.

The contents of the diary gradually became richer.

It still resembled a stream of thoughts more than a proper diary, but the once barren sentences had slowly begun to carry genuine emotion.

Holding his breath, he continued reading the traces she had left behind.

Then, at one particular passage, his eyes stopped.

[Khan is growing bigger every single day.

Just a few months ago, he looked like a tiny stuffed toy...

Now he's already so big that I can barely lift him with both arms.

I want to show Khan to you as soon as possible.

Do you think you'd recognize him?

If I told you everything, would you believe me?

No.

You'd probably just think I've gone mad.]

Only then did he realize that her diary had been written for someone.

His heart slammed violently against his ribs, as though it might burst through his chest, while cold sweat spread across his entire body.

Feeling as though invisible hands were tightening around his throat, he forced his eyes onto the next page.

[Today, you came back.

The moment I saw you from afar, happiness and fear came over me at the same time.

What terrible things will I end up saying to you again?

What words will you use to wound my heart this time?

I don't think I'm ready to face you yet.]

His eyes dropped to the date at the bottom of the page.

It was the day he had returned to Laedgo Castle.

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