Chapter 13
It was a rather unfamiliar feeling. Generally, Divoa was someone with little emotional fluctuation. There was nothing that could truly disrupt the calmness of his life.
Divoa’s life had always been perfect—so much so that he never truly wanted anything. There was no reason for him to feel desperate, disappointed, or even particularly happy. Sure, he could find things mildly amusing or mildly annoying, but nothing ever shook him to his core.
And that was boring. Tedious. Uninteresting.
But whenever he looked at Irene, covered in mud, he felt strangely irritated. Even though she didn’t seem to care about the dirt clinging to her, it somehow made Divoa uncomfortable just watching her.
“You must really have a thing for your physician,” he muttered.
That was the only way to explain the emotions boiling within him. So, Divoa nodded, even if it didn’t quite make sense.
It seemed like he had finally found something he truly wanted. The fact that it was only a physician amused him.
“Do I… want to live?”
Divoa muttered to himself before shaking his head. A faint chuckle melted into the darkness around him.
“As if.”
Just as he was speaking to himself again—
“Who’s there?”
The caretaker called out to the shadow standing by the school gates. Divoa’s face turned cold as he gave no answer and walked away.
Javier opened the carriage door. Divoa climbed in, and the carriage sped through the night streets.
As the scenery blurred by, Divoa stared out aimlessly, his thoughts returning to the image of Irene running off without so much as a word. He thought about the words she had said, in her usual nonchalant tone.
“I want to live a very long time.”
For some reason, Divoa found himself curious about the reason behind her desire. He thought it might make his own life feel a little less dull.
For a fleeting moment, greed flickered in Divoa’s otherwise apathetic eyes before disappearing.
On her way back to the dormitory, Irene slowed her steps as a shadow blocked her path. Arms crossed, Maxi stood there, glaring at her with sharp eyes.
“Didn’t you say you were going home?”
“I did.”
“Then why are you returning with Duke Cassis?”
Irene frowned at the accusatory tone. It felt oddly familiar. She pondered for a moment before a quiet “Ah,” escaped her lips.
In one of the cheap novels among Baron Rios’s library, there was a scene just like this—where a husband confronted his unfaithful wife in exactly this manner.
But this was Maxi, a jellyfish-like person. That was absurd.
Realizing how ridiculous her thoughts were, Irene considered another possibility. Maxi had always wanted to become Divoa’s physician and clearly saw Irene as a competitor.
Hmm.
That made much more sense. Maxi was worried Irene might accept Divoa’s offer.
While Irene didn’t understand why, she found Maxi particularly bothersome in moments like these. After pulling an all-nighter dissecting corpses with the talkative jellyfish during anatomy exams, Maxi would inevitably block her path just like now.
He’d glare disapprovingly and ask, “What were you doing all night? Why were you dissecting hearts and brains when the test is on the liver and lungs? Did you really just dissect?”
Irene knew Maxi disliked her, likely because she had consistently held him back from achieving top marks since their third year. Though she’d only realized this rather late.
“You lied about rejecting the Duke’s offer, didn’t you? Are you planning to go to his estate?”
Maxi rubbed his palms against his trousers nervously. Irene adjusted her heavy bag to her other hand, replying dryly.
“You said it yourself—I can’t be a doctor.”
Maxi’s eyes widened slightly at her words, but his stubborn expression returned, and he nodded after a long pause.
“Right, you can’t be a doctor. So don’t even dream about becoming the Duke’s physician.”
Irene nodded slowly, as if to confirm she already knew that. She had heard the same from Leticia earlier.
Then what can I become?
She murmured the question she had been pondering for years. But, as always, no answer came. Even so, she didn’t want to go back home after graduation.
“I know.”
She resumed walking, passing by Maxi.
“I won’t become anything.”
As Irene walked past, Maxi clenched his fists tightly without realizing it. Those weren’t the words he had intended to say.
But for some reason, his mind and mouth stopped cooperating whenever he was in front of Irene—especially when faced with her indifferent expression, unfazed by his sharp words.
If anything, Maxi wanted to hurt Irene. He wanted to see that stoic face crumble, see her sobbing, breaking down in tears.
But once again, Irene walked past him, unaffected.
“Hey, broomstick!”
With a sigh, Irene turned back, just in time to catch something heavy flying through the air.
“!”
On reflex, she reached out to catch it, dropping her bag in the process.
“This isn’t because I thought you might come back. I just couldn’t throw it away—it’d be wasteful!” Maxi shouted.
The paper bag in her hands was warm. Irene blinked at him as he frowned deeply.
“Because it’s too good to throw out!”
Shouting, Maxi stormed off toward the men’s dormitory. Only then did Irene open the bag. Inside were two pieces of still-warm food.
She picked up her bag and muttered to herself with a pout.
“…Potatoes.”
Of course, it was Maxi being Maxi. Maybe he’d left them behind knowing she disliked potatoes—just to annoy her.
Normally, she would’ve tossed them straight into the trash without a second thought. But today, Irene stared wistfully at the bag.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch…”
Growl.
The savory smell of the potatoes made her stomach rumble. Her body was already preparing to digest.
Reluctantly, Irene picked up a potato and took a big bite.
“Hm?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t bad. Maybe it was because she was hungry, but it actually tasted pretty good.
“Still, a potato’s just a potato. It doesn’t compare to sweet potatoes,” she muttered, even as she finished both potatoes on the spot.
Then, glancing back at where Maxi had stood, she smirked triumphantly.
If his goal was to annoy her, Maxi’s plan had failed spectacularly. She had thoroughly enjoyed the potatoes.
Brushing off her hands, Irene grabbed her bag and strode off with renewed energy.
“Think it over carefully.”
Professor Figueras looked down at Irene with his usual condescending gaze.
She had been so lost in thought that she missed her chance to respond.
An anatomy assistant?
The offer to stay at the school as an anatomy professor’s assistant was shocking, especially coming from Figueras, who usually didn’t bother hiding his disapproval of her.
Figueras adjusted his glasses with a sneer.
“Your dissection skills are as precise as a barber’s, after all.”
He was one of those typical internists who looked down on surgeons, believing real doctors should diagnose and cure illnesses elegantly through conversation and prescriptions rather than crude surgical tools.
“Thank you for the compliment, Professor.”
But Irene was bad at reading between the lines. Figueras clicked his tongue, reminded of the kind of person she was.
“What’s the point of mocking someone who doesn’t even realize it?”
“Are you finished?” Irene asked, standing up.
Figueras frowned slightly as he looked up at her.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. You told me to think it over carefully, so I will.”
Irene gave a slight nod and left the room, leaving Figueras behind with a dramatic sigh, which she completely missed as she was already deep in thought.
“An anatomy assistant. Not a bad idea.”
Most students already had their futures set. Some planned to open clinics with their family’s support, while others were already promised positions as private physicians for nobles.
The rest were either ambitious students like Maxi, aiming higher, or aimless ones like Irene.
Irene wasn’t interested in internal medicine. Diagnosing ailments through lengthy conversations wasn’t her thing—especially with patients who couldn’t even pinpoint their own pain.
Surgery, on the other hand, was straightforward. A bleeding wound made it clear where the problem was.
Even better was anatomy. Corpses didn’t talk.
Still, staying at the school hadn’t crossed her mind because no professor had ever made such an offer before. Regardless of her skills, Irene was a difficult student to deal with.
“Better than going home, I guess.”
As she muttered her thoughts aloud, Irene suddenly froze, her eyes widening.
“Oh.”
A soft sigh escaped her lips as realization dawned.
