The Forgotten Field
Chapter 82
“Impossible!”
The man dramatically hunched his massive shoulders and put on an exaggerated expression of fear.
“How would I ever dare, toward the man destined to rule the East!”
Quietly studying the man's face, Varkas raised his wineglass to his lips without saying a word. Since he did not immediately react to the provocation, the man's enthusiasm seemed to cool slightly.
Erasing the playful look from his face, the man growled,
“Still, I am curious. Just what were you thinking when you betrayed the First Imperial Princess and took responsibility for the imperial family's greatest nuisance?”
A heavy silence descended over the hall.
Moving only his eyes, Varkas slowly swept his gaze over the nobles seated along both sides of the long table.
The loyal retainers who had lived in Kalmor, the heart of the East, and served as the hands and feet of House Siorcan all wore displeased expressions.
The provincial nobles, however, watched his reaction with judging eyes. They seemed to be weighing whether the young heir of the grand ducal house was truly someone worthy of entrusting the future of the East to.
Lightly swirling the wine in his glass, Varkas deliberately allowed a brief pause before speaking.
“Betrayal? That is rather exaggerated. As everyone knows, my engagement to her was not forged out of political interests. If circumstances change, then the arrangement itself can also change.”
“And what exactly has changed?”
The man's temples bulged.
“Are you saying a few words from His Majesty are enough to break a promise upheld for years?”
“Then do you regard the command of the ruler of the Empire as insignificant?”
Tilting his head, Varkas countered calmly.
The man's thick lips sealed shut, as though his words had caught in his throat. Staring at him with a reddened face hidden beneath a black beard, he sneered loudly.
“What remarkable loyalty! Men like me could never hope to imitate it!”
“Sir Gutvan, I believe you are becoming too agitated.”
A middle-aged noble seated across from him cautiously intervened.
But the man paid no attention. Grabbing a goblet filled with wine, he drained it in one gulp before roughly wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“But one day, even our great Emperor will step down from his throne. Then His Highness the Crown Prince will become the ruler of this Empire. What do you intend to do then? Do you truly believe His Highness will gladly accept the East's loyalty?”
“This marriage is something His Highness the Crown Prince also approved.”
Varkas slowly continued while observing his own reflection in the crimson liquid.
“No. In the end, he was the one who pushed for it even more actively.”
“What in the world do you mean—”
“I'll simply say that this marriage offered certain advantages to His Highness as well.”
He cut him off coldly.
“One cannot casually spread the shame of the imperial family, after all.”
Suspicion spread across the nobles' faces.
His words could easily be interpreted as meaning that he held some weakness over the Crown Prince.
Watching them exchange glances, Varkas casually changed the mood.
“Now that some of your doubts have been settled, let us bring this delightful conversation to an end.”
He raised his glass and leisurely surveyed those gathered.
“Come now, everyone, drink. As Sir Gutvan says, this is the wine I received after seventeen years of loyal service.”
The corners of Varkas's mouth lifted. Bringing the glass near his face as though savoring its fragrance, he added leisurely,
“When will you ever have the chance to taste such a delicacy again?”
The nobles exchanged uncertain looks, as though unsure how they ought to react. Eventually they raised their glasses with awkward smiles. It was obvious that everyone wished to end the argument here.
Everyone except one man.
Slamming the table with a fist like a steel hammer, the bearded noble roared,
“How can anyone believe that! The entire Empire knows how dearly His Highness the Crown Prince treasures Her Highness the First Imperial Princess! A man like that would never make a decision that tramples upon Her Highness's honor!”
The smile vanished from Varkas's lips.
His patience was slowly reaching its limit with this man who simply refused to listen.
Leaning his head against the chair, he motioned with his chin for him to continue.
The man immediately launched into another tirade.
“Do you know what rumors are spreading now? That even the heir of the East has fallen to the witch of House Taren! Just as His Majesty the Emperor was deceived by that serpent of a woman and betrayed Her Majesty Empress Bernadette, the next Grand Duke of Siorcan has also been bewitched by her daughter and betrayed the virtuous First Imperial Princess! Such words are spreading throughout the entire Empire!”
His final words were nearly a shout.
His booming voice filled the hall.
“And if Her Highness the First Imperial Princess ends up following in the footsteps of Her Majesty Empress Bernadette, how do you intend to atone for that sin?”
“This is becoming utterly ridiculous!”
Unable to endure any longer, Daren Dru Siorcan finally intervened.
“Alex Gutvan, you are a vassal of the grand ducal house! Do you truly think such insolence toward the heir of the grand ducal family in Laedgo Castle will be tolerated?”
“When a leader strays onto the wrong path, it is also the duty of his retainers to raise their voices in criticism!”
Shouting boldly at Daren, the man turned back to Varkas.
“You could have made the First Imperial Princess, whom the entire Empire adores, the mistress of the East! And instead you brought home some wicked woman born a mere bastard. How can anyone silently endure such a—!”
The man suddenly stopped in the middle of his outburst.
Varkas, who had been looking down at him as though watching some ridiculous comedy, likewise froze.
A small figure with an oversized hood pulled all the way down to the top of her head had silently approached behind the bear-like man.
And then—
She tipped a bottle over his massive head and poured out the blood-red liquid in a torrent.
Sharp gasps erupted throughout the hall.
Even the victim himself seemed too stunned to react immediately. Standing there blankly while wine drenched him completely, he only sprang to his feet after the bottle had finally run dry.
His gigantic frame, nearly seven krevets tall, about two hundred and ten centimeters, loomed ominously over the intruder whose entire body was hidden beneath robes.
“What lunatic bastard dares—!”
Twisting the stranger's wrist, the man tore off the hood covering the figure's head.
Long hair that had been caught beneath the folds of the robe spilled down like a golden waterfall, overwhelming everyone's vision.
The fist he had raised to smash her face froze in place.
Through the disheveled strands of hair, the woman glared at him with venomous eyes.
The powerful gaze made him tremble faintly, as though struck by lightning.
Gulp.
He swallowed dryly.
His tar-black pupils slowly crawled over the woman's face with sticky greed.
The goblet in Varkas's hand nearly crumpled.
He rose from his seat immediately.
Stepping behind her, he drew her slender body into his arms, but the man unconsciously twisted her wrist harder, as though unwilling to surrender her.
Something writhed inside Varkas's stomach.
He lowered his dark gaze onto the filthy black hand gripping her.
The man remained spellbound, his eyes hungrily licking over every inch of her face.
An icy chill crawled up Varkas's spine.
His neck grew cold with a strange sensation, and his eyes narrowed.
Then suddenly—
CRACK!
A sound like a whip striking a horse echoed through the hall.
The man stared down at the woman with wide, bewildered eyes.
His expression showed utter incomprehension.
He couldn't understand what had just happened.
She raised her arm again and slapped his wine-soaked face a second time.
“How dare you lay your filthy hands on me?”
Only then did the man come back to his senses.
Releasing her wrist, he staggered back a step.