The Forgotten Field

Outwardly, the change was barely noticeable.

But she had always been so slender that even the slightest swelling was impossible to miss.

Slipping his hand beneath her wool surcoat, he slowly traced the length of her abdomen beneath the thin silk undergarment, from just below her navel down to her pubic bone.

Through the delicate fabric, he could distinctly feel how much firmer her skin had become.

Her once-flat stomach had begun to take on the faintest curve.

The sight fascinated him so much that he kept gently stroking it until the woman, curled up comfortably in his lap, shifted her hips uneasily.

Looking up at her face with concern, he asked,

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it's not that... It's just... down there...”

Talia stammered, her cheeks turning scarlet as she awkwardly lowered her gaze.

Until they had learned of her pregnancy, they had shared a bed almost every night.

He couldn't understand why she was suddenly acting so embarrassed.

Assuming she felt uncomfortable because of the changes in his body, he adjusted her slightly in his arms.

“It will settle down after a while. Please don't concern yourself with it.”

“How am I supposed not to?”

She shot him an incredulous glare.

Did she realize that every time she narrowed her eyes like that, her already alluring face became even more provocative?

Suppressing the urge to swallow those pouting lips whole, he remained silent as she continued rambling.

“I heard... when men get like that... it's actually pretty painful. Um... if it isn't taken care of for a long time... it can even start to hurt...”

“Who told you that?”

She flinched.

Only then did he realize how dangerously low his voice had become.

He had no intention of frightening her, so he deliberately softened his tone.

“Who told you something like that?”

“I don't know. I just... heard it somewhere a long time ago.”

She visibly panicked as she fumbled for an answer.

It wasn't difficult for him to guess where she had learned such things.

She had probably heard it from some man while attending the regular banquets at the Empress's Palace.

One after another, the faces of the men who had constantly hovered around her flashed through his mind.

He had already begun narrowing down the most likely suspects when she hurriedly changed the subject.

“Anyway... doesn't it bother you when you're like that?”

“...And if it does?”

Varkas answered dryly.

“If I told you it bothered me, what exactly would you do?”

Confusion spread across her clear face.

Nibbling anxiously on her lower lip, she murmured almost inaudibly,

“Even if... we don't sleep together... I heard there's another way to... make it better...”

“...”

“I could... show you how... if you want?”

Varkas felt a sharp throb at the back of his head.

The urge to demand who had taught her such things made the muscles in his throat tighten.

He swallowed the harsh words that had risen to the tip of his tongue.

Then he felt a featherlight touch settle against his waist.

Without looking away, he watched her lift the hem of his shirt.

Apparently nervous now that she was actually about to touch him, her fingers lingered near his taut abdomen before cautiously slipping beneath his belt.

In that instant, it felt as though all the blood in his body surged in reverse.

Simply watching those long, delicate fingers—beautiful enough to rival a masterpiece of craftsmanship—clumsily undo his belt was enough to push his arousal to a dangerous extreme.

He grabbed her wrist at once.

“No.”

She flinched and looked up at him.

Her moist blue eyes and flushed cheeks looked devastatingly seductive.

Closing his eyes tightly, he silently repeated to himself that she was carrying their child.

“Please don't concern yourself with my condition.”

“But... won't it hurt if you just leave it like this?”

“It won't.”

“I heard it's bad for you if you keep holding it in...”

A vein throbbed visibly across his forehead as he looked at her.

He wanted to silence those lips—so innocently repeating knowledge another man had given her—with his own, tormenting them until they were swollen.

Barely restraining that violent impulse, he spoke in an even voice.

“I don't know who filled your head with such nonsense, but forget all of it. Every word. It's nothing more than a trick men use to provoke a woman's sympathy.”

“...Are you really not uncomfortable?”

“Not in the slightest.”

He answered without batting an eye.

She studied him suspiciously for a moment.

Then, apparently accepting his answer, she leaned her head against his chest.

Trusting his words completely, she nestled even closer.

The pressure against him intensified sharply.

Steadying his breathing before it became ragged, Varkas feigned composure and gently stroked the back of her round head.

She didn't need to concern herself with such trivial discomforts of his.

Since becoming pregnant, she had begun eating far better than before and was gradually putting on healthy weight.

Even so, she remained so small...

So slender.

Every healer without exception had warned him that she required absolute rest.

He had no desire to burden her with anything.

“I'm far more concerned about Your Highness's condition than my own. Is anything bothering you?”

“No. Other than getting sleepy all the time and feeling hungry really quickly, I don't think much has changed.”

Tilting her head, she absentmindedly rubbed her stomach.

Watching her quietly, he reached out and gently squeezed one of her soft cheeks.

He had noticed far more changes than she had.

Her body temperature had risen slightly.

Her skin carried a delicate flush.

Her natural scent had grown richer.

The curves of her body had become even more pronounced...

“Are... are you really okay? Because down there keeps getting even...”

He let out a heavy sigh.

If he continued holding her like this, he felt certain he would lose control.

“Our guests are waiting. I have to go back out. Please stay here and rest. Don't go anywhere.”

Carefully setting her down beside him, he rose to his feet.

She looked up at him in bewilderment.

“You're going out like that?”

Her widened eyes slowly drifted downward.

Picking up the Tunka hanging on the wall, he replied rather curtly,

“I'll take care of it myself, so please stop worrying about what's happening below my waist.”

Her face immediately turned a deep shade of crimson.

“Who are you calling a pervert?! I was only worried you'd embarrass yourself!”

Throwing a loose coat over himself to conceal the obvious outline beneath, Varkas looked back at her with troubled eyes.

Even the sight of her puffing up in indignation, her chest rising and falling with every angry breath, seemed far too enticing.

It irritated him.

Running a hand roughly through his hair, he bent down in front of her.

Then, in a gentler voice, he said,

“The only thing that matters right now is Your Highness's health. I don't want you worrying about anything else.”

“...You don't have to treat me like a seriously ill patient. Even Marisen said I'm doing much better than she'd expected.”

“Better than expected doesn't mean you're completely out of danger.”

His voice came out somewhat stiff.

He gently brushed the loose strands of hair away from her forehead.

She accepted his touch as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Seeing the wariness that had once filled her eyes replaced by languid trust sent a shiver racing from his waist to the nape of his neck.

In an instant, every resolve to remain composed collapsed.

He lowered his lips onto hers.

It was an act bordering on self-destruction.

But he could no longer endure it.

Greedily drinking in the slick warmth of her lips and her small tongue, Varkas only lifted his head when someone knocked on the door.

The steward's voice immediately came from the other side.

“Your Grace, the guests are asking when they might be able to see you. What shall I tell them?”

“Tell them I'll be there shortly.”