The Forgotten Field

He felt his nerves becoming taut.

As he slowly poured the fresh-smelling liquid into the narrow, damp space, her flushed face twisted faintly. She truly seemed to hate the taste of the medicine.

But he could not sympathize with what she was feeling. He could smell the pungent scent of herbs and taste the intense bitterness on his tongue, but the sensation itself did not strike him as unpleasant.

Varkas repeatedly pushed his tongue into and out of the tightly withdrawn mouth, pulling her squirming body closer.

She swallowed what had gathered in her mouth and shuddered faintly. Her panting breaths dampened his own throat.

He tried to wrap her tightly closed tongue around his own, but when it did not go as he intended, he lifted his head.

The sight that met his eyes was a face utterly disheveled from the unfamiliar act.

Suddenly, something sharp scraped down his spine.

Pressing his thumb against her swollen lower lip, he forced her jaw open and roughly urged her on while inhaling the rapid breaths spilling from the moist opening.

“Stick out your tongue.”

Her watery eyes trembled with anxiety.

He slipped his finger inside her teeth and lightly pressed down on the wet tongue.

His voice came out somewhat impatiently.

“Hurry.”

The woman, staring at him with confused eyes, slowly stuck out her tongue.

The moment he took it into his mouth and gently sucked on it, her frail body stiffened in shock.

Holding her rigid neck, he tilted his head even closer.

The tiny tongue wriggled teasingly. As he stubbornly restrained it whenever it tried to flee, he wrapped an arm around her supple waist.

Beneath the thin fabric, he could feel her delicate bones and soft curves.

After two seasons, her body had become noticeably thinner. It seemed as though applying just a little force would shatter it into pieces.

For some reason, anxiety welled up inside him, and he released the tongue he'd been holding.

Clear saliva trickled from between her sore scarlet lips.

As he licked it away, a tearful voice reached him.

“Why...”

She looked up at him with eyes that seemed feverish.

“Why are you going this far?”

He frowned.

He wanted to ask her instead.

Why shouldn't he?

They were husband and wife.

Even if they did things far beyond this, there would be nothing strange about it. He simply had never demanded more because he knew she wouldn't want it.

But you were the one who reached out first.

Suppressing the urge to blame her, he stared into those bewildering eyes he could never understand.

The mixture of confusion, caution, and suspicion in them slowly twisted his insides.

He gradually loosened his arms.

“If you hate me doing things like this, don't provoke me again.”

The woman bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

The uneven shape of her mouth drew his gaze once more. Mocking himself for it, he rose from the bed when her strained voice scratched at his nerves.

“Wh-Who said I hated it?”

Varkas looked down at her with cool eyes.

She spoke as though demanding something that belonged to her.

“I won't cry anymore, so continue. There's still medicine left, isn't there?”

In that instant, a fierce heat tore through his stomach.

He frowned at the sensation, one that was closer to discomfort.

Just what did this woman want from him?

“I want you to hurt. A lot. Very, very much.”

Words she'd muttered one day while intoxicated by medicine crossed his mind.

Back then, he'd dismissed them lightly.

Even after more than a decade, pain itself had never returned to him. He no longer remembered what it felt like.

But perhaps...

Perhaps what he was feeling right now was something close to pain.

“I-If you don't want to, then forget it. Go away.”

Unable to bear the prolonged silence, Talia pushed against his chest.

He caught that hand almost violently and pulled her absurdly light body onto his lap.

The body rigid with tension softened at once.

Twining her terrifyingly smooth hair around his fingers, he bit into her wet lips.

She was always a woman who wasn't satisfied unless she ruined everyone around her, including herself.

And ever since he'd made such a woman his responsibility, he'd known that his orderly world would eventually be destroyed.

Closing his eyes, Varkas felt a heat like his organs were rotting away.

It was like swallowing poison.

The journey continued smoothly.

After visiting the major territories of the northeast, they moved south and toured various commercial regions.

For some time, magnificent cities grand enough to leave one speechless appeared one after another, and wealthy merchants and nobles lavished them with enthusiastic hospitality.

Yet none of it captured her interest.

Her mind was already consumed with confusion.

Touching her stinging lips, Talia gazed out the window.

Between the orderly ranks of marching knights, Varkas occasionally entered her sight.

Clad in black armor and riding with a straight posture, he looked every bit the stern lord. No one could possibly imagine that this same man greedily devoured her lips every night.

Feeling her insides twist on their own, Talia drew the curtain shut.

But even after blocking her view, the thoughts circling inside her head refused to stop.

She obsessively replayed everything they had done together.

Varkas never kissed her first unless she asked for it. But neither did he seem reluctant. He would always continue kissing her stubbornly until she was driven to her limit and struggled helplessly.

Sometimes, it felt as though he was the more desperate one.

And yet, whenever she became frightened by the contact growing too deep to bear and pushed him away, Varkas would withdraw obediently with a calm expression.

At times like those, she wondered if she'd simply imagined everything.

Talia habitually chewed on her lips and winced when a sharp pain struck.

Touching them with her fingertips, she found a faint smear of blood.

She had no way of knowing whether she'd caused the wound herself or whether Varkas had.

Lately, he had been tormenting her lips more often.

Still touching her swollen lips, Talia closed her eyes.

Just as she was about to take a nap to clear her cluttered thoughts, the carriage that had been traveling nonstop came to a halt.

“We've arrived. Please come down.”

A blunt voice came through the window.

Straightening her disheveled clothes, Talia stepped outside.

Across the vast plain stood large cone-shaped tents and old huts scattered here and there.

The modest scenery left her somewhat bewildered. Compared to the north, where the disparity between rich and poor was severe, the south was generally prosperous, so it had been quite some time since she'd visited a village like this.

“We'll be staying here tonight.”

The young mounted warrior whom Varkas had assigned as her escort approached and explained.

“It may be uncomfortable, but please bear with it for one day.”

Without saying anything, Talia began walking.

Varkas was speaking with a man who appeared to be the village steward.

As she stared blankly at him, Varkas gestured for her to come over.

Talia carefully approached his side.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Varkas spoke to the steward in a businesslike tone.

“We'll be setting up our own tent separately. You only need to prepare accommodations for my wife.”

Talia looked up at him in surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“There will be a minor suppression campaign tonight.”