Chapter 28
Irene walked straight to the bookshelf without any hesitation. She bent down and pulled out a thick, red-covered book from the bottom shelf.
Ha.
Divoa let out a silent chuckle before speaking again.
“The Difference Between Pleurisy and Mediastinitis.”
Irene moved sideways and pulled out a thin book from the second-lowest shelf. Divoa, now feeling competitive, decided to test her again.
“The Book of Healing.”
Irene straightened her back and stretched her arms as far as they would go. Still unable to reach it, she even stood on her tiptoes. Her outstretched fingers trembled slightly.
Divoa narrowed his eyes and watched her struggling hand. Though covered by white gloves, he could picture her slender fingers perfectly in his mind. Were they still as nimble as before? Were they still rough and calloused? Was the back of her hand still smooth like marble? He found himself curious.
And before he knew it, he had reached out. It wasn’t a conscious decision. His large hand covered the back of hers before he even realized what he was doing.
“The Book of Healing, I see.”
At the last moment, he controlled himself and shifted his hand to grab the spine of the book instead.
“!”
Irene froze on the spot, stiff as a board. She could feel the warmth of Divoa’s body behind her, even though they weren’t touching. It was so intense that she was acutely aware of his presence.
Her fingers curled involuntarily. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run away. But her frozen body refused to move.
She even held her breath, afraid that her back might accidentally brush against him. Her whole body was covered in goosebumps. Her fingertips turned cold.
Her blue eyes trembled. Then her eyelids, her shoulders—her entire body shook like a leaf in the wind.
No.
No.
Just as Irene was about to scream—
“Oh dear.”
Divoa stepped back. Just as suddenly as he had approached, he withdrew. His calm voice reached her ears.
“I was too close. My apologies, Miss Irene.”
“…….”
Irene didn’t respond. Instead, she took a deep breath. Her round shoulders rose high, then sank just as deeply.
Only then did she finally wrap her other hand around the one he had almost touched. It felt hot. And cold at the same time.
She bit her lower lip hard, using the sharp pain to distract herself.
Meanwhile, Divoa studied her closely. When he had stepped forward, goosebumps had formed on the back of her neck. That reaction was real. No one, no matter how skilled an actor, could fake such an instinctive response.
She despised being touched. She feared it.
Divoa’s lips curled into a slight smile.
How fascinating.
“…….”
What would it feel like to hold her hand? If he wove his fingers between hers, how would she react? If he gently stroked the back of her hand?
That could be fun, too.
But Divoa quickly erased his smile, as if it had never been there. Casually, he slid the half-pulled book back into place and spoke in a light tone.
“I heard that once Miss Irene sees something, she memorizes it completely. Seems to be true.”
Irene swallowed quietly and replied in a dry voice. She tried to sound calm, but the slight tremor at the end of her words betrayed her.
“…That’s just a rumor. I don’t remember everything after seeing it just once.”
“Ah, I see. Though I also heard you’re at the top of your class because of your hard work. Your dorm room is the last one to turn off its lights every night.”
“!”
Irene’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard. She hadn’t known people talked about that.
With a doubtful expression, she asked,
“Not that I use black magic to cheat my grades?”
“Hahaha.”
Divoa burst into laughter. Hearing such words from her—so seriously, at that—was hilarious.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t heard that rumor.”
She didn’t believe him.
Irene narrowed her eyes at Divoa, but he only covered his mouth with his hand to hide another chuckle. Then he cleared his throat and smoothly changed the subject.
“So, how do you find Norte?”
“It’s colder than Therapia. There was a clear spring warmth in Therapia, but here, it still feels like early spring.”
“Hahaha.”
Divoa bent over, laughing. He hadn’t meant the weather.
Yet Irene had given him an extremely serious comparison of the temperatures. And Divoa knew exactly why.
She had no idea why he was laughing, though.
To her, Divoa was like an entirely different species—one that laughed easily, finding joy in the smallest things.
“…….”
But it didn’t matter to her.
Irene quickly lost interest in him and resumed unpacking her belongings. When Divoa’s laughter finally subsided, she asked,
“As Your Highness’s physician, what will my duties be starting today?”
Divoa narrowed his eyes. The amusement in his gaze faded, replaced by a skeptical glint.
“Well…”
He folded his arms and leaned against the desk. Irene stared at the spot where he sat.
Divoa was a prince, a duke, and her employer. Even she knew better than to tell him to get off her desk.
But all she could think was: He sat there. That means I’ll have to wipe it clean later.
Though the prince wasn’t some kind of slimy creature, she still felt the urge to disinfect the spot he had touched.
Divoa noticed her slightly unfocused gaze and barely held back another laugh. He quickly got off the desk.
Only then did Irene’s eyes return to his face. Divoa looked away, clearing his throat.
“Ahem.”
When he spoke again, his voice carried its usual cheerful tone.
“Didn’t you come here because you were interested in my illness?”
“Partially yes, partially no.”
Divoa raised an eyebrow. The answer was both expected and unexpected.
“What do you mean?”
“Your genetic illness was the deciding factor in my decision to come here. But it wasn’t the only reason.”
Divoa studied her closely.
No one had ever spoken about his illness so casually before.
Most people treated it as a forbidden topic. If they had to mention it, they hesitated and referred to it vaguely—“that thing,” or “that disease.”
Even his parents had always avoided discussing it.
And yet, Irene had spoken about it like it was just another fact.
Ah, right. My new physician doesn’t like vague statements.
Divoa smirked, about to respond—when the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.
His gaze shifted to the door. A young man with a grim expression whispered something to Javier before leaving just as quickly.
Javier’s face hardened. His expressions were usually unreadable, but Divoa noticed the subtle change.
“What happened?”
Javier stepped inside. After glancing at Irene, he decided there was no need to keep it a secret.
“Alvar soldiers launched an attack last night.”
“Their numbers?”
“Same as usual, but since it was a surprise attack, our forces suffered heavy losses.”
“A surprise attack, huh.”
Divoa fell into thought, then smiled as he turned to Irene. His voice was as calm as ever.
“Looks like you won’t have much work for now, Dr. Rios.”
“…….”
“I’ll be at the border. In the meantime, do whatever you wish at the castle. Adolf will assist you.”
As if that settled the matter, Divoa turned to Javier. He nodded once.
Javier immediately responded, “I’ll prepare for departure.”
Just as Divoa was about to leave—
“I’m coming with you.”
Irene’s indifferent voice stopped him.
Divoa slowly turned back, a faint frown forming.
“You want to come?”
“I’m Your Highness’s physician. It’s only natural that I go. A battlefield has a high chance of emergencies.”
Her blank gaze seemed to ask, What’s the point of a doctor who isn’t where they’re needed?
Divoa stared at her in silence. Then he imagined her standing in the middle of a battlefield, arrows flying past.
Slowly, he shook his head.
“No need. Didn’t you say you dislike people?”
