Chapter 30
“!”
Irene forced herself to exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from her body. Her heart, which had been racing, gradually settled back to its normal pace.
She was relieved to be wearing gloves. Irene didn’t want to classify Mia as some kind of clingy creature, but if she kept grabbing people’s hands without warning, she might have to reconsider.
Irene gently pulled her hand away, about to say something, but then she noticed Mia’s eyes welling up with tears.
“…….”
Irene’s face showed an unfamiliar expression—confusion. Or at least, she thought so.
“I’m sorry, Miss Rios. Please forgive me.”
Irene had no idea why Mia was apologizing.
Did she somehow read her thoughts? Did she sense that Irene didn’t want to be seen as a clingy creature?
No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t find an answer. A shadow passed over her eyes.
Or maybe I did something wrong again? Is that why Mia is crying?
That seemed more likely. After all, she was always a troublemaker, a lost cause. It had to be her fault again.
“I was just nervous because it was my first time… That’s why I said what I said. But I’m okay now. I’m not scared at all, Miss Rios. So please, don’t tell me to leave.”
Irene, who had been about to speak, closed her mouth instead. She wasn’t good at lightening the mood like Divoa. Whenever she tried to say something, she only made things worse.
So she chose silence.
Mia wiped her tears away with her sleeve.
“…I’m sorry, Miss Rios.”
Her sincere apology fell into Irene’s lap. Irene simply stared out the window in response.
Mia didn’t say anything else, and a heavy silence filled the carriage, thick enough to cut with an axe.
The truth was, Irene didn’t dislike Mia. If she had to choose between liking and disliking her, Mia leaned more toward the “like” side.
That was unusual for Irene.
But just like the coachman, Mario, Mia had left a good impression on her from the start.
The moment their eyes met, Mia smiled brightly. That meant she saw Irene.
Mia also never questioned why Irene always wore gloves. She didn’t even complain when Irene made the strange request to have a sink installed in her office.
Last night, Irene had even considered calling Mia “Carrot.” Not just because of her orange hair, but because carrots were her second favorite vegetable, right after sweet potatoes.
But now, she had made Mia cry. And she didn’t even know why.
Leticia was right. I am hopeless.
Feeling down, Irene gazed toward the front of the procession. From where she was, she couldn’t see him, but she knew Divoa was leading at the front.
Right now, she desperately needed him.
If Divoa were here, he would have some clever trick to break this heavy silence in an instant.
Irene swallowed a sigh and closed her eyes. She had noticed Mia stealing nervous glances at her, so she decided to pretend to be asleep—just to put her at ease.
“Haa…”
Sure enough, Mia let out a sigh of relief. Irene could hear her shifting her position to get more comfortable.
With her ears tuned to the quiet sounds around her, Irene clasped her gloved hands together. The rough, dry fabric calmed her unsettled mind.
Yes, this is fine.
When Divoa arrived at the border, he went straight to his command tent. A group of colonels and lieutenant colonels were waiting for him with grim expressions.
His deputy commander, Niceto, greeted him formally.
“Your Highness, the Grand Duke.”
The others were about to follow suit, but Divoa raised a hand, signaling them to skip the unnecessary formalities and get straight to the point.
Niceto was the second son of a count and had risen quickly through the ranks in the military. He had caught Divoa’s eye because of his skill, and it hadn’t taken long for him to earn the position of deputy commander.
But now, Niceto—usually brimming with confidence—looked visibly worn down.
“While Your Highness was away, there was an extended ceasefire.”
Divoa nodded.
Even in a tense border region, battles didn’t happen every day. Some days were filled with intense fighting, while others passed in relative peace.
“But it seems that was part of their strategy. Last night, while everyone was asleep, the enemy launched a surprise attack. We scrambled to respond, but…”
Niceto hesitated, which was unlike him. Divoa’s face hardened.
“Our casualties?”
“We’ve confirmed 126 dead and 31 wounded.”
“More deaths than injuries? That means we were completely caught off guard.”
A sharp chill crept into Divoa’s voice. Sensing the shift, Niceto straightened his posture.
Having spent years at war with Divoa, Niceto knew the truth—Divoa was not as kind as he appeared. When necessary, he could be utterly ruthless.
Most people had no idea.
“Until now, the Kingdom of Alvar had never been the one to launch a surprise attack. We weren’t prepared for this.”
“Are you making excuses?”
“My apologies, Your Highness.”
Niceto bowed his head deeply, knowing he had no defense.
Divoa’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“The enemy’s casualties?”
“…Less than half of ours.”
“Hah.”
Divoa let out a low chuckle, his eyes narrowing.
Niceto tensed. He knew that wasn’t a laugh—it was a warning.
Sure enough, Divoa’s expression went cold, and his voice turned sharp.
“Prepare for a full-scale attack. We’ll return the favor.”
At that moment, Javier stepped forward.
“Your Highness.”
Divoa’s gaze shifted lazily to him.
Javier knew those eyes were dangerously sharp, but he had to speak up.
“This is too hasty. We should regroup our forces first—”
“We strike while they’re still celebrating their victory. Give them a taste of their own medicine.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Niceto quickly left to prepare for battle. The other officers, sensing Divoa’s mood, quietly followed.
Only Divoa and Javier remained.
Just as Divoa was about to leave, Javier stepped in front of him again.
“This is reckless. We need to reinforce our troops first.”
“If we wait, they’ll have time to fortify their defenses. I won’t give them that chance.”
“Then at least command from the rear.”
“Why? Are you worried I’ll die?”
Divoa smirked mockingly.
Javier couldn’t read his thoughts. Divoa was always composed, always perfect. But sometimes, he acted as if he had a death wish.
“Your Highness—”
“Are you disobeying orders?”
Divoa’s tone was lazy, but the warning was clear.
As the supreme commander, his word was law. Disobedience was mutiny, and in the military, mutiny was punished by death.
Javier knew Divoa wouldn’t make an exception for him.
In the end, Javier stepped aside.
“I will follow orders.”
Only then did Divoa leave the tent.
He took a few steps before suddenly stopping and looking toward another tent, not far from his own.
For a moment, he thought he saw a faint shadow moving behind the fabric.
“…….”
Then, as if it didn’t matter, Divoa turned away and continued walking.
It wasn’t his concern.
No one had forced them to come. They had followed him here of their own will.
This wasn’t a place where others could afford to babysit someone’s life.
Here, you had to take care of yourself.
It wasn’t his concern.
“…Damn it.”
Muttering a quiet curse, Divoa resumed his preparations for battle.
