Chapter 24
A faint chuckle escaped Debert’s lips, an almost hollow laugh that hinted at a sense of frustration toward the person standing before him.
That person was none other than Beth Jane.
It’s because of this woman, who is breathing hard and clasping her hands together.
Beth, too, was in disbelief at her current state. She had firmly resolved to return before dawn after leaving Debert’s room last night.
But what had possessed her to fall into such a deep sleep when she normally only dozed lightly? And on top of that, Dixie and Ines, who were aware of the situation, had deliberately tiptoed around to prepare breakfast, leaving Beth to sleep soundly, oblivious to the world.
The early morning sunlight streamed in between the two as they faced each other.
After yesterday’s incident, the fourth floor had been completely restricted, except for a few medical staff.
This was an extreme measure to conceal Debert’s injuries.
In reality, only a select few were aware of his condition, and everyone willingly embraced the peace that this secrecy afforded.
“I injured my shoulder while trying to protect my ‘wife,’” Debert said with feigned seriousness, causing Beth’s face to flush red.
Last night, she had been so preoccupied with negotiating with the errand boy that she hadn’t even noticed when he mentioned anything about a ‘wife.’
But this morning, hearing him say ‘wife’ seemed unnervingly vivid.
Beth felt increasingly embarrassed—by the word ‘wife,’ which she found mortifying, and by the fact that the person injured because of her was now bedridden while she had apparently slept peacefully.
Suddenly, as if something had dawned on her, Beth urgently placed her hands over her clothes.
But where there should have been a pocket, she felt only smooth skin. It was only then that she noticed she had forgotten her apron in her haste.
As the embarrassment passed, a look of dismay crossed Beth’s face.
Leaning casually against the window, Debert observed Beth’s expressions change by the moment. What he had said yesterday was true: “It wouldn’t be uncomfortable even if you didn’t speak.”
In truth, that statement had been meant for himself. He wasn’t bothered by Beth’s silence. Although, her obsession with finding that cursed piece of paper still irked him.
He wasn’t sure what she had intended to give him, but it was clear she had forgotten.
The disappointment on her face, still damp from rushing over, suggested that she had indeed hurried.
Although her face, devoid of makeup, was different from the heavily adorned one from the previous day, it still stirred something within him.
In the meantime, Beth steeled herself.
She decided it was too late to dwell on what had already happened; she needed to fetch the medicine and the note right away. With that thought in mind, she turned to leave.
“Will shaking this make you come back?” Debert casually tugged at the call cord beside the bed. The cheerful chime, fitting for the yellow morning sunlight, rang softly.
Beth nodded.
“Then, go ahead.”
A sly smile tugged at the corner of Debert’s mouth, a smile reminiscent of a snake.
* * *
The sound of the bell ringing whenever she forgot was transmitted diligently all the way to the lower floors of the hospital.
Since the morning, an unknown patient on the fourth floor had been incessantly ringing the bell.
The reasons varied: ‘Bring me water,’ ‘Fetch the military map,’ ‘Tighten the bandage on my shoulder,’ and so on.
There was no way to refuse the requests that went back and forth between the patient and the army commander.
After all, Debert Cliff was a soldier who had mastered the art of using secrecy as a weapon.
“Who keeps ringing that bell? It’s been going off all day,” someone muttered, unaware of the secret, as Beth hurriedly ascended the stairs.
The first time the cord was pulled, Beth had carefully brought the medicine, ointment, and note. But Debert had only accepted the note and refused the rest.
“You said you’d help me reduce my medication, yet you’re trying to make me take it first thing in the morning? Bring it to me tonight.”
And the ointment:
“How am I supposed to apply ointment to my own back?”
Even the note, which he glanced at briefly:
“There’s no sincerity in this, Beth. Show some sincerity.”
And so, Beth found herself making yet another trip to the fourth floor, determined to show that ‘sincerity.’
This time, what could he possibly want? Filled with indignation, Beth opened the door and froze in place.
What on earth was she looking at?
The unusually large window in the isolation room was wide open. Smoke was thick around Debert, who stood by the window, and an open whisky bottle sat brazenly on the bedside table.
Had the man gone mad?
Though she couldn’t voice it, the thought was written all over her face, and Debert understood it perfectly. He quite liked the look of bewilderment on her face as it conveyed that unspoken message.
After what he had done last night, she had fallen asleep as if nothing had happened. Finally, his twisted mood was starting to lift. This was not a bad price for a late morning.
Beth approached him, took the cigar from his hand, and tossed it out the window. The small ember plummeted helplessly through the air.
A refreshing breeze blew in through the wide-open window.
Debert made no sign of surprise and instead ran his now empty hand through his tousled hair.
The strands, which were usually slicked back to reveal his forehead, now tickled his brow.
The soft, fluttering strands were at odds with their cold and indifferent owner.
Beth turned to search through the small drawer under the bedside table.
Just as she thought.
She gathered the cigars and lighter from the drawer and even picked up the whisky bottle. A sigh escaped Debert’s lips.
“It’s hard enough to quit the medicine, what else do you want to take away from me?”
Debert was starting to understand, albeit faintly, when and where this woman’s heart would soften and what kind of expressions she would make when it did.
Beth, who had boldly confiscated the items, hesitated briefly before placing everything back on the bedside table.
Debert’s long fingers brushed his lips. He stifled a smile, knowing that if she caught him, she’d glare at him again.
The woman, who he thought would leave, instead pulled out a pen and scribbled something.
“I’ll give you something else,” she wrote.
“What could you possibly give me?” Debert replied gruffly, causing her to shrink slightly. But she quickly regained her resolve and wrote again.
“Something better.”
Debert could no longer contain his laughter and let out a low chuckle. ‘Something better,’ she said.
He had momentarily forgotten that Beth Jane was always full of surprises.
Was she really trying to reform him?
Now Debert was genuinely curious about what Beth would bring—something better than medicine, cigars, or whisky.
“Alright, I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Beth didn’t know how to react to his smile, one she had never seen before.
She was probably making a foolish expression again. Before he could mock her, she quickly turned around and left the isolation room.
She had always thought of him as a strange and terrifying person, but perhaps she was the strange one.
How could she think that man’s smile resembled the sunlight breaking through?
Embarrassed by her own thoughts, the tips of her ears grew warm. She leaned against the wall in the corridor, trying to cool down, and the cold surface sent a shiver up her spine.
Time passed between Debert and Beth, separated by just one door.
Beth stood there for a long time, unaware that the man inside might be counting her paused steps.
***
It was Arthur who caught up with Beth as she hurried down the stairs as if someone was chasing her.
“Nurse, where are you rushing off to?”
His broad smile highlighted his handsome features.
“We seem to bump into each other quite often. Perhaps I should wander around more.”
His eloquence was as charming as his face. He had a talent for making playful remarks seem not too light and serious comments not too heavy.
At first, Beth had found Arthur uncomfortable, but now she had grown accustomed to his playful banter. All she could manage in response, however, was a vague smile.
“How is Debert?”
Beth recalled the face of Debert she had just seen. He had casually said, “I think I’m broken,” but he didn’t show any signs of pain. She wondered if he was hiding it to avoid making her feel guilty, or if it was really something he could endure.
However, the awkwardly held cigar in his left hand told her that lifting his right arm was a struggle.
“Was it that terrible?”
As Beth’s expression grew darker, Arthur immediately regretted his question. He should have stuck to making light-hearted comments. Why did he have to ask something like that?
“He’s endured worse. This is nothing.”
Despite his attempt to console her, her face grew even paler.
Arthur now wished he could bite his tongue.
“The prince’s sharp tongue, they call it.”
The remark from a certain marquis’s son, who had always disapproved of the Empire’s beloved prince, now struck Arthur right in the heart.
“No, what I meant was—”
“Duke Arthur.”
It was Lady Molly who interrupted his drawn-out excuse as she approached them. Arthur reluctantly moved his feet forward.
***
‘His Majesty wants to see you.’
Arthur’s expression was colder than ever as he walked down the deserted fourth-floor corridor.
A call from the Emperor.
After nearly a year of being stuck in this ruined place, he finally called. Was he going to give some instructions regarding the man from Britain?
After locking the director’s office door tightly, Arthur picked up the receiver.
“Your Majesty.”
[Have you met Colonel Bottam?]
“…Yes.”
[You’ve done well on the battlefield.]
A dry laugh escaped Arthur’s lips. Such insincere words. The Emperor of Nexus wouldn’t contact him just to offer praise for his efforts.
“Did you call just to commend my work?”
A brief silence passed over the phone line.
Arthur cursed the Kovach army for bombing the phone lines in the camp. If they were going to destroy them, why didn’t they burn this place down completely? Why leave this one intact?
[Debert was ambushed.]
Of course.
“It seems your Majesty’s eyes are not just on me.”
His voice, heavily suppressing his emotions, trembled slightly.
“Is Wayne really a day’s journey from here?”
Arthur had a vague sense that the Emperor’s eyes weren’t only on him. Just as Debert had someone attached to him, someone was likely watching Arthur too. The Emperor was a man who had lived his entire life steeped in suspicion and distrust.
But for news of yesterday’s ambush to reach the Imperial Palace before today’s sunset?
Bitterness rose from deep within his chest.
[Arthur, my brother.]
My brother.
Those tedious times when he had desperately wanted to hear just those words.
Hoyden, who remembered the young prince who had been adoring and wanted to be accepted as a family member, touched Arthur’s wounds too easily.
“Brother. Hoyden, please…”
Just like now.
[It’s a god-given opportunity to be recognised as my brother.]
Arthur closed his eyes.
Please don’t say that.
[A chance to cut Debert’s throat.]
(T/L: let’s cut the emperor’s throat instead.)
