The Forgotten Field

A thought suddenly crossed Tyron's mind.

What if Varkas Laedgo Siorcan had married the First Imperial Princess as originally planned?

Politically, it undoubtedly would have been the wiser choice. There would never have been the discord that now existed between House Siorcan and the Crown Prince.

And yet, for some reason, he found it impossible to picture Varkas taking another woman as his wife.

“We've kept our guests standing long enough. Come, follow me. I'll have rooms prepared so you may rest.”

Lost in thought, Tyron snapped back to reality.

Turning around, he saw Daren personally leading the northerners toward the guest quarters.

As he headed for the annex, Daren tossed a casual remark over his shoulder.

“You should go wash up while you're at it. You look like a mess.”

Scraping the dried blood from his cheek, Tyron let out a quiet sigh.

This was hardly the time to dwell on pointless hypotheticals.

After washing away the blood and dust and tending to his minor injuries, he would have to report back to his unit immediately.

A mountain of unfinished work was surely waiting for him.

Public security, above all, demanded urgent attention.

His expression darkened as he recalled the band of Zram raiders that had ambushed him.

While they had been occupied calming the brewing conflict in the North, the situation within the East had clearly deteriorated.

Running a hand roughly through his disheveled hair, Tyron led his exhausted men across the spacious courtyard.

Then, suddenly, a cool breeze brushed against his cheek.

He looked up.

Gray clouds were rolling across the sky.

Just as the Grand Duchess had predicted, white snowflakes were drifting down with the wind.

It was snow far earlier than the season should have allowed.

An inexplicable premonition settled over Tyron.

Perhaps this winter would be unusually long...

And unusually harsh.

* * *

“Did you get into a fight?”

The woman, who had remained quietly nestled in his arms throughout their walk along the long corridor, suddenly wrinkled her nose and asked.

Varkas glanced down at his clothes to see whether there were bloodstains on them.

They looked no different from when he had left the castle.

Then the scent of blood must have seeped into him.

She had always possessed an exceptionally keen ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) sense of smell.

And since becoming pregnant, it seemed her nose had grown even more sensitive.

Lengthening his stride, he answered evenly,

“I merely went hunting.”

“Liar. You came back with the knights. What kind of hunt needs that many knights?”

“There have been more raider attacks lately, so I increased the escort.”

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Answering without the slightest hesitation, Varkas shifted her comfortably onto one arm and opened the bedroom door.

The room was cool.

The windows had evidently been opened to air it out.

He immediately crossed to the window, closed it, and set her down beside the fireplace.

As he crouched to place fresh logs onto the dying embers, she tugged gently at his sleeve.

“Don't go hunting anymore. If raiders are causing trouble, why put yourself in danger? You could just leave the hunting to hunters or buy meat from butchers.”

His brows drew together.

Since becoming pregnant, she worried far more than before.

She seemed convinced that if anything happened to him, not only she but their child would also be left vulnerable.

Trying to reassure her would accomplish nothing.

After thinking for a moment, Varkas finally nodded.

“Very well. I won't go hunting anymore.”

The tension left her face, and her shoulders relaxed with visible relief.

He would probably have to warn the servants to stop telling her nonsense about how the Grand Duke himself had hunted the meat.

Looking into the fire as the flames slowly caught the logs, he brushed the dust from his palms.

He knew perfectly well that employing hunters would be far more efficient.

Even so, he had no intention of stopping.

For some reason, the thought of her eating meat another man had hunted displeased him.

It was a thought he had never entertained before.

Meat was simply meat.

What difference did it make who had hunted it?

He could not understand why he had begun acting according to such irrational impulses.

Yet every time he watched the woman who had refused to touch meat since childhood eagerly bite into rich, juicy flesh and chew away with quiet determination...

Those self-mocking questions vanished completely.

Watching her gradually regain her health, watching her slowly put on weight after eating the food he had brought back for her...

It filled him with a strange sense of satisfaction.

As much as possible, he did not want anyone else's hands involved in that.

“So... what did you catch today?”

she asked cautiously, apparently worried that she might have scolded him too harshly.

Working the bellows to strengthen the fire, Varkas answered calmly.

“I brought back pheasants.”

At once, her eyes sparkled.

Leaning toward him, she chattered excitedly in a noticeably brighter voice.

“The ones we had before? Those were delicious! Tell the chef to roast the skin until it's nice and crispy. And don't forget the cameline sauce!”

Without even blinking, he simply watched her.

It always amazed him that a woman who treated the entire world with suspicion, her guard constantly raised, could become so delighted over something as simple as food.

Noticing his unfamiliar gaze, she flushed awkwardly and muttered,

“It's not that I want it. I-it's the baby who wants it.”

As she spoke, she gently stroked the stomach that had only just begun to round.

Varkas's gaze naturally followed the movement.

Looking at it, he clenched his fist tightly.

If he didn't...

He felt as though he would seize her with his grimy hands and touch her however he pleased.

Whether she noticed his restraint or not, she puffed out her full lips and continued complaining.

“I think this baby has an enormous appetite. What if it grows up into a chubby little pig? Fat babies aren't very pretty...”

“Then we'll leave the child with the nanny and make sure His Highness or Her Highness stays out of Your Highness's sight as much as possible.”

Struggling to keep his increasingly scattered thoughts under control, he answered absentmindedly.

Her eyes immediately shot upward.

“You idiot! Is that what you're supposed to say? You're supposed to say, ‘Even if the baby's chubby, it'll still be beautiful.’”

“Even if the baby's chubby, it'll still be beautiful.”

He immediately gave her the answer she wanted.

Yet her expression refused to soften.

Still looking thoroughly offended for reasons he could not understand, she snatched up a cushion from the chair and mercilessly smacked him across the back with it.

“And my baby could never be ugly. It'll definitely be incredibly, incredibly beautiful! Even if it's as fat as a little pig, it'll still be the cutest baby in the whole world!”

It had been she who worried that the child might not be pretty.

Why was she angry with him?

He couldn't understand.

The problem was that her sulky face, venting such completely unreasonable indignation, was unbearably adorable.

Swallowing a sigh, he turned toward the shelves.

Despite wearing loose trousers, the tightness below had become painfully uncomfortable.

If he simply ignored it, it would subside eventually.

That wasn't the issue.

He was worried about making her uncomfortable.

He did not want Talia concerning herself with such pointless things.

He only wanted her to remain as carefree and comfortable as she was now.

To cool himself down, he filled a basin with cold water and washed his hands and face.

Even so, the heat in his body refused to fade.

'Should I go into the next room and take care of it myself...?'

Frowning as he glanced downward, he suddenly felt warm body heat against his back.

“Are you angry?”

The woman clung tightly to him, craning her head around to peer directly into his face.

His brows knit together.

Was she doing this on purpose?

Eyeing her suspiciously, he carefully shifted away.

“You'll smell the horses on me. Please keep your distance.”

“I don't mind...”

Pressing her nose against his shirt, she inhaled deeply several times.

Her warm breath seeped through the thin fabric, tickling his skin.

“I mostly smell mint... and you.”

She really was doing this deliberately.

Grinding his teeth together, Varkas turned around and lifted her into his arms.

Then he sat down in the chair, wrapping her completely within his embrace.

Her breasts, fuller than before, were pressed against his body.

He gently cupped one in his hand, stroking it with the utmost care before letting his palm drift lower to rest over the softly swelling curve of her abdomen.