Chapter 6
“What are you doing—”
Beth’s gentle hand touched Debert’s shirt collar. HIs breath stopped for a moment. Perhaps it was the unfamiliar scent that suddenly drew close.
The faint warmth brushing his neck was much milder than the heat he had felt from the woman’s mouth in the forest.
Beth carefully drew out the necklace hidden under his shirt.
Got it.
A faint smile curved Beth’s lips. Confirming the key, she yanked the necklace hard. Though Debert’s Adam’s apple bobbed, Beth didn’t notice.
Putting the necklace into her pocket, Beth quickly locked the door and ran to the hospital. She glanced back once, wondering if he might chase her, but the man remained where he was.
“Arrogant.”
Debert pulled out a cigar from his pocket. The emptiness around his neck felt unsettling, compelling him to do something.
In the quiet darkness, Debert’s lighter flickered incongruously with the fireflies. As he lit his cigar, he glanced at the path the woman had taken, but it was empty.
Quick, isn’t she? She was trembling in the forest.
The acrid cigar smoke, which now had no one to reach, dissipated into the air. Like the smoke, Debert’s thoughts began to darken.
* * *
“What’s this, I’m the one who got shot, so why does your face look worse?”
These were the first words Arthur, lying down with a bandage around his abdomen, said upon seeing Debert.
“Hehe. Hello, Your Grace.”
It was unclear when he had heard the news and come from Wayne, but Count Allen, a notorious gossip, greeted him with a smirk. He was always quick with the news.
Debert simply nodded and pulled up an empty chair to sit.
Arthur carefully examined his friend’s face. Even though he usually looked scary and gloomy, it seemed he had lost sleep, making his eyes appear even more sunken than usual.
Debert pressed his protruding brow bones.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“No—”
Arthur started to say something, but then glanced at Allen.
“Did you run out?”
Debert was the only one who could understand the unspoken subject. Arthur wanted to know if he was out of medicine.
“How? Didn’t you get the key from Mrs. Molly?”
“Something happened.”
Returning to the barracks at dawn, Debert had not slept at all. Whether it was due to fear of sleep or simply being on edge, he couldn’t tell. He had chain-smoked cigars and arrived at the hospital early in the morning.
Debert’s eyes shifted to the corner of the room, where Beth was dressing a wound.
Last night. The wide-eyed, startled expression under the moonlight, the scared look, then the relieved shoulders, the slight smile when she found the key to the necklace.
He felt like he’d seen quite a range of expressions. This morning, Beth looked just as serene as she had last night in the hospital room.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she, Duke?”
Noticing Debert’s gaze, Allen asked slyly.
It seemed Allen thought he’d found a common topic with the Duke, who was otherwise difficult to approach. This might be his chance to impress his father.
Always eager for gossip, Allen licked his lips.
“When Beth first came to Wayne Nursing School, all the noble boys flocked to catch a glimpse.”
Seeing Debert listening, Allen continued with even more enthusiasm.
“But something’s strange.”
“Strange?”
Arthur asked.
Interest from the Empire’s prince and duke? Excited, Allen started using hand gestures to emphasize his story.
Debert’s gaze remained fixed on Beth. She had finished dressing the wound and was now recording on a chart. Her white hands were diligently writing.
“She doesn’t seem like a commoner’s daughter. But she hasn’t debuted yet, so she’s not a noble either.”
“Is it that she won’t talk?”
“Who knows if she can’t talk because of an accident, or if she’s always been mute. No one knows.”
“She doesn’t seem to use sign language.”
Having spent a night at the hospital, Arthur chimed in.
“There’s also a rumor that she came from the backstreets. But that’s just a rumor. Mrs. Molly wouldn’t sponsor someone from there.”
“Hey, you. The girl with black hair.”
A casual voice filled the room. Its owner was Lieutenant Herbert, infamous for flaunting his wealth and fooling around with women.
“That bastard.”
Arthur muttered a curse, knowing Herbert’s reputation.
Beth looked at Herbert at the call of “black hair.”
Herbert exaggeratedly held his right arm and waved it around.
“My arm, it feels torn. It hurts so bad. Ow, ow!”
A man with a broken leg complaining about his arm. Arthur shook his head at the obvious ploy.
Beth approached Herbert’s bed. Debert’s expression grew more menacing as he licked the inside of his cheek.
Beth examined the lieutenant’s wound. Seeing the clean, freshly bandaged state, she turned to leave.
“No, look more closely!”
Herbert grabbed Beth’s arm, pulling her into his embrace with unexpected strength.
“Lieutenant Herbert!”
Arthur shouted, and Debert stood up.
Bang!
A loud crash filled the ward, followed by sudden silence. Gauze, forceps, and ointment scattered over Herbert’s bed.
Beth, out of breath, was holding an empty tray in her hand, and Herbert, who had been bowing his head, slowly raised it, and the red blood flowing from his nose explained the incident just now.
(T/L: Lol she banged him with the tray.)
Even the nurses calling for “Beth,” the other wounded soldiers receiving injections, and the doctors pulling a surgical bed all paused, mouths agape.
Herbert wiped the blood from his face, and someone gasped.
“What the… blood? Blood?!”
Finally realizing what had happened, Herbert’s face twisted with rage as he raised his right arm.
“You bitch!”
“Herbert Ramsey.”
Debert approached them with a cold expression.
“C-Commander Debert.”
Startled by the sudden appearance of the military commander, Herbert straightened his back. He looked like a mouse trapped in a corner.
“What are you doing?”
Herbert couldn’t even look up at Debert, his lips quivering.
“What are you doing now?”
Debert’s voice dropped even lower as he repeated the question.
“W-Well, I asked the nurse to check my wound, but she left without looking.”
Arthur shrugged at Allen, a gesture loaded with the implication that Herbert was as good as dead.
“Last time, it was a rat in the unit.”
Everyone in the unit knew about the communications officer who had been burned beyond recognition recently. Herbert had seen the body too. His lips dried up as fear set in.
“And now we have a dog in heat.”
“Pfft.”
Arthur couldn’t suppress his laughter.
“He looks like a gentleman but speaks so crudely.”
Arthur whispered to Allen.
“He really is in heat. He came to the battlefield to avoid the scandal with a married woman, running away from her husband.”
Allen responded, not to be outdone.
“These are the ones who came to the outpost for the Nexus. Be respectful.”
“Yes, sir!”
Herbert saluted with exaggerated enthusiasm.
“We’ll think about what to do with you.”
Still standing rigidly at attention, Herbert didn’t even wipe the blood streaming down his face.
“You don’t need medical staff for that, do you?”
“Yes, sir!”
Debert glanced at Beth’s hand, still gripping the tray tightly, then turned away. He knew she was looking at him, but he pretended not to notice. Seeing her face again would only worsen his already throbbing headache.
As Debert climbed the stairs to the director’s office, he let out a dry laugh.
Yeah, as if we ever had anything to do with each other.
* * *
Knock, knock.
“Yes, come in.”
Mrs. Molly, who had been sorting through documents, smiled upon seeing Debert.
“Duke Debert, or rather, Captain Debert, what brings you here?”
“Do you happen to have a spare key?”
At the word ‘key,’ Mrs. Molly’s expression hardened.
“Did you lose it?”
“… It was taken.”
Taken? Mrs. Molly’s expression grew even more puzzled. Then, upon hearing the name ‘Beth’ from Debert’s mouth, she understood everything.
Beth had been on night duty last night. She must have met Debert while going to the warehouse.
Mrs. Molly had always stressed the importance of the medicine warehouse during nursing school. Medicine on the battlefield was not only a means of survival but also a commodity for trade, and it could even determine the outcome of the war.
Beth had witnessed the hospital’s bombing firsthand not long ago. Whether her opponent was a military commander or an emperor, she would have taken the key.
“As you know, dealing with the locksmiths means I can’t make spare keys now. The only remaining key belongs to the hospital.”
Mrs. Molly pulled out a medical confirmation form from her drawer.
“You’ll have to persuade Beth somehow.”
She handed the form over after signing it. But just before Debert could take it, she withdrew her hand.
Mrs. Molly looked at Debert, who had grown into a young man. He was no longer the child who cried at her doorstep.
The child had become a boy, then a soldier, and eventually a military commander. Just like his father.
“His Majesty the Emperor calls it a sacrifice of the few for the many.”
Her voice trembled.
“I don’t believe that. How can you, Debert, be a small sacrifice? The line between use and abuse is thin. Addiction, beyond improvement, brings another disease.”
Her expression was resolute, and her words seemed to spill out as if pent up for years.
“You must know you’re walking a dangerous line. Do you not understand why His Majesty allows only you this strict exception?”
Debert was well aware. The Emperor, who knew of his precariousness yet remained indifferent, could turn his back on him at any moment.
Perhaps he hoped Debert would die before becoming a greater threat.
Debert said nothing in response.
* * *
As he descended the stairs, Debert paused and placed a hand on the wall. His dizziness was worsening. He hadn’t gone more than three days without the medicine since ‘that day.’
Where on earth is that woman hiding?
Returning to the ward where the commotion had occurred yielded no sign of her, only a group of unnecessary people. Debert’s bootsteps echoed faster down the corridor.
The chilly morning wind blew through the cracked, old windows.
“Beth, are you alright?”
And the name that had become so familiar it felt like it clung to him, was whispered in the wind.
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TRANSLATOR:
If you find any mistakes, please let me know in the comment section.
Happy reading : )
