The Forgotten Field

The baby was pressing against the nerve running down her left leg, leaving it with a burning numbness that persisted day and night, while the pain in her lower back remained as though a massive spike had been driven into it.

It was enough to make her resent the gods for burdening only women with such suffering.

At some point, Talia had begun earnestly hoping the baby would be a boy.

She never wanted to become pregnant again after this.

Although she appreciated the devoted care she received from Varkas and everyone around her, as the physical pain worsened, the joy of carrying a new life gradually faded away.

In its place came fear.

Giving birth is going to hurt terribly... isn't it?

Even accepting Varkas's body had always felt overwhelming.

Could she truly endure childbirth?

Staring at her ever-growing stomach, Talia found herself sinking deeper and deeper into anxiety.

She desperately wished to be free from pregnancy as soon as possible.

Yet at the same time, she wished that moment would never come.

"Your Highness, I've brewed some herbal tea to calm your nerves. It should help you sleep, at least a little."

After stirring a pot over the fireplace for quite some time, Marisen approached carrying a cup filled with a dark brown liquid.

Without complaint, Talia accepted it and drank.

During the early months of her pregnancy, she hadn't touched anything that might possibly harm the baby.

Now, however, she welcomed anything that could make her body feel even slightly more comfortable.

While the child in her womb remained remarkably vigorous, she herself was growing more haggard with each passing day.

Talia worried that by the time her due date arrived, she wouldn't have enough strength left to give birth.

"Would you like to take this as well? Her Majesty the Empress sent it. It's a tonic that's supposed to restore your vitality."

No sooner had she finished the tea than her nanny approached carrying a small medicine bottle.

Talia stared at it for a long moment before shaking her head.

She didn't believe her mother—who regarded the child in her womb as an important political piece—would deliberately send her something harmful.

Even so, she couldn't bring herself to trust Senevier without reservation.

"My stomach feels unsettled. I don't want to take anything else."

"At least accept it for Her Majesty's sake. She prepared such precious medicinal herbs..."

"I said no!"

Looking thoroughly irritated, Talia slapped her nanny's hand away.

The glass bottle slipped from her grasp and rolled across the floor.

For an instant, anger flashed across the nanny's round face.

Her lips twitched as though she wanted to lash out, but in the end she merely let out a heavy sigh before retrieving the bottle.

Talia felt a pang of guilt.

Yet instead of apologizing, she turned her back to her.

She was too angry with the nanny, who seemed more concerned about Senevier's gift going to waste than about Talia's own suffering.

Pulling the blanket all the way over her head, she repeatedly pressed her aching pelvis with her fingertips.

She remained there groaning for what felt like ages.

Eventually, perhaps thanks to the herbal tea, the pain gradually eased, and drowsiness overtook her.

With relief, Talia surrendered herself to sleep.

Her peace, however, did not last long.

Around sunset, a violent cramp seized her leg and tore her from a deep sleep.

Grabbing both hands around her twisting calf muscle, she screamed.

It felt as though someone had stabbed a knife straight through her leg.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

"Please endure it just a little longer, Your Highness. I'll give you some medicine."

Marisen, who had been resting by the fireplace, hurried over and held a medicine bottle to her lips.

"It's a painkiller. We've used herbs that are completely safe for the baby, so please don't worry."

Talia hesitated briefly.

But when the cramp refused to subside, she reluctantly swallowed a mouthful of the lukewarm medicine.

Meanwhile, Tiuran returned carrying a heated compress filled with hot water and carefully placed it over Talia's leg.

After some time, the pain finally began to ease.

Exhausted, Talia slowly looked around the dim room.

Her nanny stood beside the bed, watching her with worried eyes.

The two young maids waited near the doorway, clearly prepared to run into the corridor and summon a priestess at a moment's notice.

Trying to reassure them, Talia muttered hoarsely,

"I think... I'm all right now."

"How does your stomach feel?"

Tiuran asked while sliding the hot compress farther down beneath her calf.

Talia gently rubbed her lower abdomen.

"It feels a little tight... but nothing severe."

"I'll bring you another cup of tea. It should help calm your mind."

With considerable effort, Talia pushed herself upright.

Beyond the open window, left ajar to air out the room, the evening sky was gradually turning crimson.

"Hasn't Varkas come back yet?"

"His Grace is at the Assembly Hall. He sent word several hours ago that he would be late."

As she tucked another pillow behind Talia's back, Tiuran answered gently.

Through the thin skin stretched across her stomach, Talia absently stroked the baby's tiny bottom, soothing her dissatisfaction.

Throughout the entire Season of Rest, Varkas had scarcely left her side.

He handled most of his work while seated at the desk that had been placed inside their bedroom.

Once the harsh cold arrived, he even reduced the number of occasions on which he went to the Assembly Hall or attended hearings at the city court.

Thanks to that, Talia had enjoyed the luxury of treating the Grand Duke of the East almost like her own personal servant.

Throughout the night, he would hold her as she groaned in pain, massaging her aching back.

He would fetch cool towels to wipe the sweat from her neck and face.

Sometimes he even prepared the heated compresses himself and kept them pressed against the aching parts of her body until she finally fell asleep.

However, once the Season of Water began, Varkas had no choice but to return to his demanding routine.

All the work postponed throughout the winter came crashing down upon him like a tidal wave.

While reorganizing the administration of the territory that had stagnated during winter, Varkas also led the knights through the military camps, personally inspecting the state of their armaments.

And those were far from his only responsibilities.

Large-scale military drills had begun in the training grounds of Laedgo Castle.

At some point, heavily armed messengers had also begun coming and going through the castle with increasing frequency.

Talia could feel the embers of war smoldering in the North slowly beginning to awaken.

Even so, she said nothing.

She desperately wanted to believe that even if war truly broke out in the North, it would never reach the East.

Varkas had already fulfilled his duty as a loyal subject by dispatching cavalry.

Everything beyond that belonged to the Imperial Family.

Perhaps Gareth will personally lead the campaign to suppress the rebellion.

If that man happened to die during the war, Talia would only be grateful.

Quietly giggling to herself as she imagined her half-brother impaled upon a northern warrior's blade, she suddenly froze.

A thought flashed through her mind like lightning.

Could Senevier be behind this war?

If the North truly declared independence, there was a high probability that the Crown Prince would be appointed supreme commander.

If she could simply drive him onto the battlefield, her mother would gain the perfect opportunity to eliminate her stepson without attracting the slightest suspicion.

Lost in the thought, Talia suddenly realized she was indulging in baseless fantasy and let out a quiet laugh.

No matter how immense Senevier's influence had become, she couldn't possibly manipulate the northern nobility from behind the scenes.

And even if such a thing were somehow possible...

Would her mother really go so far as to provoke a civil war?

If even a single piece of evidence connected the Empress to the rebellion, not even her position would spare her from the gallows.

There was no way Senevier would gamble on something so dangerous.

Smiling bitterly at her own absurd imagination, Talia suddenly felt her abdomen tighten.

She set down the teacup she was holding.

As she carefully shifted her position, she felt the hem of her skirt becoming damp and clinging unpleasantly to her legs.

She frowned.

She had struggled so violently earlier that she'd apparently soaked herself in sweat.

Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she motioned toward the maids.

"I think I should wash. Prepare a bath."

"Please hold on to me. I'll help you."

After moving the hot compress aside, Tiuran gently took hold of her arm.

Grasping the young healer's slender yet sturdy shoulder, Talia carefully rose to her feet.

Then suddenly—

She felt a warm liquid running down her thigh.

She froze.

Surely... I didn't wet myself?

Looking down in horror at the soaked hem of her skirt, she heard someone beside her sharply gasp for breath.

"My goodness!"

Assuming Tiuran had cried out after witnessing her humiliating accident, Talia's face instantly turned scarlet with shame.

Then she saw the terror filling the healer's eyes.

Her entire body went rigid.

A terrible premonition crawled down her spine.

"Summon the priestess immediately!"

Quickly easing Talia back onto the bed, Tiuran shouted at the maids.

"What are you all standing there for?! Her water has broken! Hurry!"