Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Warehouse Shadows
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“Raphaelle... Beth can't speak.”
Aines hesitated before speaking up.
“Ah.”
A sigh escaped her lips, and tears welled up in Raphaelle's large eyes. The familiar floral scent that recalled her morning nightmare drifted toward Beth once more.
Raphaelle patted Beth's shoulder as if comforting a subordinate. Tiny sparkling jewels on her worn nurse's uniform scratched painfully at Beth's nape.
“Poor thing.”
Raphaelle wiped away her teardrops like pearls with her hand. Then, as if truly sorry, as if there was no helping it, she turned to Aines.
“I need to go see Arthur. Aines, could you comfort my 'friend' a bit?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Aines's eyes darted busily between Beth and Raphaelle. In that moment, the clicking of Raphaelle's heels already faded as she stepped outside.
“What's with her temper? Is the princess always like that?”
Dixie lowered her voice in case the princess might return, but she couldn't hold back her irritation.
Beth, who had been staring blankly for a moment, soon regained her usual expression and changed into her night shift uniform. Aines approached, making excuses for the princess's behavior, but to Beth, whether the woman was a princess or what she said didn't matter.
When people learned she couldn't speak, their reactions usually split into two: ignoring her or pitying her.
That woman was simply the latter. Beth shrugged at Aines, who was still fretting over her.
I'm really fine, so don't worry.
“Raphaelle, I wanted to treat you to something better, but it's not possible here. Bear with me.”
Dinner was modestly served in Madam Molly's office. The only special touch to their usual meal was a bottle of grape wine.
Of the four seated around the table—not a formal dining one—only Madam Molly and Raphaelle were smiling. Arthur glanced at Dever, but he said nothing, slowly dragging his knife across his plate.
Arthur knew better than anyone why Raphaelle was here, yet he couldn't fathom what Dever was thinking. His fork wandered aimlessly across his plate, clattering unpleasantly in tune with his swirling thoughts.
Raphaelle ignored it all and steered the conversation warmly.
“The ladies here are like treasures of Nexus.”
“Indeed. They could live comfortably but chose to suffer alongside us. They're all clever. Diligent, too.”
A satisfied smile toward her students played on Madam Molly's lips.
“I wish I could have attended the nursing school too. It's such a shame.”
“You, Raphaelle? Well, you're sharp, so you'd have made an excellent nurse. Did you see the dorms?”
“Yes. They were cozy and pretty. I wonder if there's a spot for me tonight. I feel like I'm imposing.”
Raphaelle desperately hoped there was no spare bed in that cramped, out-of-the-way nurses' dorm. Having thrown in the idea of staying overnight in this remote outpost because of Dever, she had no intention of wasting a precious night with unremarkable nurses. She hoped Madam Molly would offer Dever's barracks for her use.
“Oh, don't worry about that. Beth and Sophia are on night shift, so you can use their bed.”
Dever's cutlery paused with a faint clink. Raphaelle, ever perceptive, didn't miss the subtle shift.
“Beth? Oh, you mean the one who can't speak?”
“Raphaelle.”
Arthur shot his sister a sharp glare.
He couldn't raise his voice with the lady present, so his suppressed tone trembled faintly.
“She's remarkable, really. Coming to the front lines to help the soldiers and ladies despite her speech impediment. Has she always been mute?”
Her soft, measured words choked Arthur. But Raphaelle ignored him entirely, gazing innocently only at Madam Molly.
Even Dever, silent throughout the meal, turned to the madam.
Unable to avoid it now, Madam Molly let out a small sigh. Who would have thought Beth would come up here? She took a sip of wine before reluctantly opening her mouth.
“Well, for now, it's safe to say she doesn't speak.”
It was an ambiguous answer.
Fearing more questions, she quickly changed the subject.
“Raphaelle, how's Wayne these days? Stuck in the countryside, I miss the city's vibrancy so much.”
Raphaelle smoothly played along despite the unsatisfying response. Far too savvy to offend a powerful duchess, she regaled them with tales of trendy boutiques, tailors, noble ladies' salons, and music performances.
After listening for a while, Dever quietly rose.
“I have a staff meeting, so I'll excuse myself first.”
He bowed first to Madam Molly, then nodded curtly to Raphaelle. She responded only with her usual smile, keeping her eyes lowered.
It was her way of showing disdain for Dever—just enough not to displease him.
As she popped a small piece of meat into her mouth, she stared at the now-empty seat across from her.
Dever Cliff.
The name tasted bitter on her tongue.
The prolonged dinner had left the world outside the window shrouded in darkness. With most wards already lights-out save a few, the hospital felt dimly lit overall.
Descending from the top-floor director's office, Dever strode quickly down the corridor. Scanning the four-story building was child's play for him. Yet the person he sought was nowhere to be found.
With her diligent nature, she wouldn't be wasting time anywhere.
“Your Grace, are you looking for someone?”
Sophia cautiously approached Dever, who seemed unusually hurried. She knew his reputation well, but her innate kindness wouldn't let her pass by someone in need.
In the low-ceilinged hospital, Duke Dever loomed almost to the ceiling in the shadows. Startled by her own boldness, Sophia clasped her hands tightly.
“Your Grace?”
“...Where is Nurse Beth?”
Dever ground his teeth inwardly. What was so hard about asking that?
“Beth? She's in the warehouse right now.”
“Thank you.”
He spat the words like a dismissal and quickened his pace. Outside, the deeper darkness signaled the early winter nights of the outpost.
What halted Dever's steps was the faint glow of an oil lamp. The face it briefly illuminated was clear even from afar to Dever.
Beth Jens.
Checking his pocket watch, Dever's eyes followed the light curving around the corner until it shrank from view.
Five minutes.
Exactly five minutes to spare. Turning toward the barracks-bound path into one leading to Beth was pure impulse.
He had nothing to say. No grand purpose, no childish desire just to see her face. Just impulse. Baseless impulse. And he had time, after all.
The woman didn't notice anyone following her. She busily gathered medicines, scribbled on her paper, checked again, repeating the cycle.
Dever, standing outside the warehouse, stepped one foot into the shadow of a cabinet. Even the fierce wind masked his presence, as if on his side.
Beth, in her thin nurse's uniform, shivered in the chill breeze.
How foolish. Dever's impatient hand yanked the door handle.
Bang!
“Damn it.”
At that moment, a gust slammed the already rusty iron door shut with a racket. Beth, startled, dropped her medicine bottles, which clattered wildly across the warehouse floor.
As Dever bent to pick up a vial rolling to his feet, a familiar metallic click echoed above his head.
“Getting better, I see.”
A few steps away, the woman aimed a gun right at him.
“Last time, you ran off scared.”
Dever slowly straightened. Beth's gaze rose with him, just as deliberately.
“Loaded now, too. Just pull the trigger.”
Still shaken, her chest heaved rapidly. Dever rattled the vial in his hand.
“I was just trying to do you a favor.”
Beth winced at the frantic jangling of pills. I didn't want to run into him. Yet this man kept appearing before her.
She pulled a vial from the cabinet.
The sedative he wanted. Used as a sleep aid, sometimes a stopgap for soldiers traumatized out of combat. But like all medicines, dependence could lead to addiction. Worried about that, she'd given less on purpose.
Who's worrying about whom here?
She tossed it to him curtly and turned away, as if to say hurry up and leave. But the footsteps she expected to recede only drew closer.
Beth's eyes shook with unease as she glanced back.
It was pitch black outside, sentries far off. The door was shut, and in this cramped space, it was just her and the man. The thought made her shoulders tense again. The image of him severing the spy's tendons that morning flashed back.
Should I run?
By then, his dark shadow engulfed her.
Her once-bright eyes, sparkling when she threw the vial, now drooped like a rain-soaked puppy.
Seeing the terrified woman, Dever let out a sigh-like mutter.
“I'm not here for that.”