Chapter 11
Beth’s eyes wavered once again at the unexpected response. Debert’s face, dimly illuminated by the moonlight, seemed both tired and somewhat gloomy.
The sound of the man’s fingers rhythmically tapping on the medicine bottle filled the space between them.
Tap, tap.
As soon as that small noise ceased, their eyes met in the empty air. After a moment of dead silence, the man turned away. And before the woman could even feel relieved, he picked up the gun that had fallen to the ground.
The dull friction between the rough floor and the firearm made Beth’s shoulders tense up.
Why did she leave that there? Beth swallowed a belated sigh, biting her lip. The gun that had felt like someone else’s possession in her hands now seemed natural, as if it had found its rightful place in the man’s grip.
Debert casually rotated the magazine to check the bullets, as if it were a mundane task. The woman, who had glanced at him, found her gaze fixed on the gun. Debert squeezed the grip of the gun, which fit comfortably in one hand, and took a step towards Beth. His expression remained unchanged.
Beth’s footsteps faltered as she took a step back. The man’s pace was neither fast nor slow. He took just one step forward for every step she retreated.
One step back, one step forward.
It was a game of tag, though the difference was that he held a gun. Or perhaps it was more like a cat-and-mouse game.
Beth let out a deep breath as her back pressed against the cold wall. She felt the need to say something, but the only way she could communicate—through paper and pen—was now far out of reach.
A single ray of light streamed through the small window in the wall.
Even in the darkest of nights, there’s always a speck of light, and thanks to it, Debert could see the pale face of the terrified woman even more clearly. On the other hand, Debert stood in the shadow of a large cabinet, and Beth could only see the gleam of the gun’s barrel.
Debert slowly rotated the gun in his hand, staring at the woman before him.
Maybe it was because of her jet-black hair and eyes, but the moonlight suited her well. As he lowered his gaze, he noticed her worn leather shoes. The feet scratched up from the forest were hidden inside them.
Beth’s gaze followed his, once again stopping at the gun in his hand.
“If you want to live, don’t let go of that.”
Beth alternated her gaze between the handle that was gesturing towards her and the shadowy figure. If only she could see his expression, she might be able to guess what he was thinking. But the unforgiving darkness denied her that.
“What are you going to do if you run into someone like me?”
With those sharp words, Debert redefined himself. Had he always thought of himself as the patient type? Perhaps Beth Jane was the exception, though. Unless this woman had a particular talent for getting on his nerves.
He even handed her the gun to use if necessary, yet she still appeared frightened.
“Take it.”
Finally, Beth hesitantly accepted the gun.
Just holding it caused the veins to bulge on her delicate wrist, and Debert’s eyes momentarily furrowed. What on earth was she thinking, coming all the way here?
His lips, which seemed ready to speak, closed once again.
What do you want to say?
He questioned himself. He had never regretted a single moment in his life.
A man worse than Cassius. (T/L: Cassius, Debert’s father)
Those words, which were the most horrifying and yet unavoidable, were the clearest line that defined Devert’s past.
Debert was that kind of man. Someone who never doubted his judgment. Some called it the Duke’s arrogance, but if the results justify it, it would be a different story.
A hunting dog merely follows its master’s orders, and a beast feels no guilt in the hunt. Even if he could turn back time, he would’ve slaughtered that spy until there was nothing left.
And here he was, trying to make excuses to this trembling woman, all because she had seen one pitiful sight.
“I don’t need the medicine.”
He tossed the medicine bottle into the darkness.
“Keep that safe too.”
The woman’s eyes, wide with confusion, were much more bearable than the fear-filled ones from before.
“My necklace. It’s a trophy, isn’t it?”
Debert responded as he lightly touched the topmost button of her stiflingly tight nurse’s uniform. Beth, startled, shrank back and looked up at him.
Debert stared at her. Her face, blushing under the inescapable light, was clear. What he had thought was a faint light actually revealed everything quite well.
Beth had grown accustomed to the darkness enough to see the man’s face more clearly now. She could tell that he looked somewhat angry and somewhat softened. She was certain, at least, that he appeared different from how he did that morning.
The man turned away with a clean posture, as if he had finished his business. But instead of heading towards the door, as Beth had hoped, he moved towards the shelf holding ointments and gauze.
“Nurse.”
If it hadn’t been for the earlier chaos, his voice would’ve sounded quite sweet as he softly called her name. Something was thrown towards Beth once again as he uttered her name.
[For scars, apply three times daily.]
It was a small ointment.
“A lady shouldn’t have scars on her hands.”
Before Beth could say anything, a cold wind blew, cutting through her thin nurse’s uniform. When she looked up, the door’s rusty hinges had already creaked shut.
The slight weight in her hand was the only reminder that the man had been there.
‘I didn’t come here for this.’
Then why did you come here?
She had hesitated at the sight of the gun he had handed her in the darkness, paradoxically because she had seemed too weak.
His body was hidden in the shadow, the scarred hand reaching out with the gun. It felt as if she shouldn’t take it away from him.
And now she was left with…
Beth let out a small sigh. She forced herself to take a step forward, towards the shelf where Debert had been standing just a moment ago.
It seems like he is the one who needs this more than she does.
When she placed the ointment in the now-empty tray, the shelf returned to the state it was in before his hand had touched it. Almost as if erasing the trace of his visit.
She doesn’t need it.
It was a small, silent rejection from Beth that Debert never saw.
***
“Ah, Commander!”
The sleeping sentry was startled by the unexpected appearance of the captain. Why did he fall asleep today when the wolf cub was causing trouble? The dizzying feeling made sweat run down his spine in an instant.
“Is he awake?”
Debert’s eyes turned towards the narrow window, the same one Raphnel had cutely looked up at earlier in the day. He wondered if the person inside was still breathing, but the sight of the body lying there didn’t inspire much confidence.
The soldier, unsure whether the question was directed at him or at the figure lying inside, hesitated. Seeing Debert’s gaze fixed on the isolation room, he stammered out a report.
“Ah, he hasn’t woken up yet, sir.”
“Hasn’t woken up, you say…”
“He still hasn’t woken up!”
The soldier hastily corrected himself, startled by Debert’s low repetition of his uncertain words.
Debert, both Duke and Commander, despised uncertain answers. He especially loathed it when people hedged with phrases like “it seems.” Precision was as much his hallmark as his clean execution of tasks; he only accepted clear, definite statements.
Fortunately for the soldier, Debert didn’t seem particularly interested in him at the moment. Debert opened the door and looked down at the ‘form’ lying inside.
It resembled a human form but was not quite human.
Without hesitation, Debert raised his hand and slapped the man’s remaining cheek, the one that wasn’t yet damaged. The sound echoed sharply, and the force of his calloused hand quickly made the cheek swell, but the man lying there didn’t so much as flinch.
Is he really not going to wake up? Debert’s dull eyes scanned the man.
A spy trained from a young age in Nexus as a member of the emperor’s personal guard. Yet, despite all that, this man had never lost his loyalty to his homeland’s ideology. No, he had grown to harbour even more hatred for Nexus as he matured.
Debert had encountered countless such people. If torture wouldn’t make them spill their secrets, it was better to make an example of them—so that no one would dare betray out of sheer terror.
To Debert, spies were little more than nuisances—obstacles in the way of victory. He felt no hesitation or guilt in disposing of them, as one would clear rubbish from the roadside.
But now he found himself coming back to this piece of trash, perhaps because a seed of uncertainty had taken root within him.
When Debert emerged from the room, the already rigid soldier stood even straighter.
“Tomorrow, at 07:00, carry out the immediate execution. Assemble everyone.”
“Yes, sir!”
No need to lower morale unnecessarily when everyone’s already exhausted.
Debert needed a justification to quell the uncertainty that had crept into his heart—a justification for no longer torturing that man. He decided to base it on the morale of the army. As the war neared its end, hope was more necessary than fear.
He cut off any further thoughts. He didn’t want to delve any deeper into the source of this uncertainty.
As Debert disappeared into the dark corridor, the sentry, beginning to relax, noticed a figure approaching from the opposite direction. Recognising Beth, the soldier let out a sigh of relief and greeted her.
“You’re here, nurse.”
Beth nodded slightly and gestured towards the isolation room. The sentry, quick to pick up on hints, understood her unspoken question.
“He hasn’t woken up yet. Commander Debert was just here to check on him.”
Debert? Beth’s brows furrowed slightly.
Surely he hasn’t done anything more to him?
With a growing sense of unease, Beth hurried into the isolation room and examined the man lying there like a corpse. He was in the same position as when she had last seen him.
But on closer inspection, she noticed that one side of his face was unusually swollen, and the gauze covering his eyes was partially removed.
They were usually so meticulous with their work; it was strange to see something so sloppily done. Puzzled, she gently removed the gauze, revealing the exposed socket where his eye had been removed.
The surgery had been successful without hitting any vital points, and they had assured her that his life wasn’t in danger. The fact that he was still unconscious when he should have woken by sunset was indeed odd.
As she bent over to apply fresh gauze, the eye that she thought was shut suddenly snapped open, and a violent hand reached out to choke her.
