Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Suspicion and the Necklace
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“Come closer, dear. What ever am I to do with you?”
Only after the Duchess's stern command did Beth finally take her reluctant steps forward.
She looked just like a child getting scolded by her parents. The boldness she'd shown in the hospital room was nowhere to be seen now. Dever swallowed a chuckle at the sight of Beth shrinking back hesitantly.
“Military uniform? No, this is...”
The Duchess's face darkened in an instant as she opened the bag. The gold brooch pinned to the chest of the uniform was the culprit.
Only two soldiers in the entire Nexus Empire were permitted to wear a gold brooch bearing the imperial crest.
Dever, and...
“Ah, so I got caught right away, huh?”
“No, Arthur, why you...”
In her shock, the Duchess forgot all decorum and called out to him by his boyhood name, just like old times. Arthur flashed her a bright smile, smoothly slipping into the uniform she'd handed him. He didn't forget to shoot Beth a cheeky wink, either.
Raphaelle wasn't the only one displeased by the display.
“Dever, even the enemy wouldn't glare at you that murderously.”
Her playful jab failed to dispel the awkward tension hanging between them. All this fuss over a silly uniform, Arthur thought, shrugging his shoulders.
“What on earth are you all thinking? Do I look like the type to come all the way to the front lines just to fool around?”
“Of course not.”
Idiot, Raphaelle cursed inwardly, though her soft reply came out smooth as ever.
This was supposed to be a send-off for her journey back to Wayne. That is, until this unwelcome intruder had shown up.
What was so special about this one girl that had everyone in such a tizzy? For a uniform pulled from a shabby old bag, its owner was being treated with far too much reverence.
“I happened to witness the nurse slipping away.”
Arthur resumed with that same polite smile.
“She was sneaking off so stealthily, without even her outer coat. As a gentleman, I simply offered her a kindness. That's all. Nothing more. Please don't misunderstand.”
The Duchess nodded faintly, mulling over his words. Arthur was kind to everyone—that much she knew better than anyone.
It was surely just his good intentions. He would have done the same no matter who it was. To quell the rising unease, she repeated the word good intentions to herself over and over.
She knew well enough that the passions of vigorous young men were something a middle-aged woman like her couldn't hope to stop.
But no matter how the world changed, the Nexus class system would endure. And where classes vanished, new logics of dominance would simply take their place. Even she, who had founded the Wayne Nursing School to educate commoners and nobles side by side, couldn't deny that truth.
And in that merciless world, no one knew better than she how vulnerable Beth's position truly was. That's why she had to be so sensitive to matters like this.
She cherished the girl like her own daughter—she didn't want her hurt.
That feeling hadn't changed since the day she'd found young Beth trembling in the hidden compartment of a wagon.
“Women of Nexus must always mind their conduct. You know it has nothing to do with class, don't you?”
It was Raphaelle's quiet question that reignited the smoldering embers.
“Even if Arthur's covering for you now, no one here knows what really happened when you two were alone.”
Where oil had been poured, even a speck of dust could spark a blaze.
“Raphaelle!”
Arthur's sharp shout didn't faze her in the slightest. If anything, her gentle smile deepened, as if she truly cared for the lowly girl before her.
“Rumors spread faster than plagues, you know. You should be looking for a match that suits you.”
The soft emphasis on suits carried a clear warning. Raphaelle let out a thoughtful hum, pondering for a moment. Perhaps now was the perfect time.
She decided to play her hand—the one she'd been debating whether to reveal.
“The Duchess treasures you so much. Don't you think you should at least tell her who owns that necklace of yours?”
“Necklace?”
“Come now, even the Duchess is curious.”
Raphaelle's spark was catching just as she'd hoped, fanning the flames perfectly.
The Duchess gripped her fading focus and turned to Beth. Conduct, rumors... Her head felt ready to split, and now a necklace? What on earth?
Beth was just as flustered by the situation. What was she trying to prove, baring her hostility so boldly? Unanswered questions swirled in her mind.
One thing was certain.
The Empire's Rose had no intention of hiding her thorns from Beth, at least.
Beth's hand moved to the top button of her nurse's uniform. She didn't want to do it, but this wasn't for the princess—it was for the Duchess, to spare her any more trouble.
The necklace, hidden tightly beneath her clothes, gleamed as if exhaling held breath.
Raphaelle's momentum softened at Beth's unexpectedly compliant response. She'd half-expected the girl to act out like she had in the hospital room, in which case she'd have shown her some discipline as her superior. At least she knew to discern right from wrong.
“No one would believe you bought a necklace studded with so many 'Tears of the Desert' on a nurse's salary—something even I couldn't easily obtain.”
When Beth had taken the necklace from Dever, she'd seen it not as stealing from a duke, but as snatching a warehouse key from an outsider.
But who'd have thought it would come back to bite her now? And in the form of such a filthy scandal, the one she'd dreaded most.
“Attracting men's eyes might be your talent, but you still need to mind your manners.”
Raphaelle drove the wedge home.
Beth's lips parted, but her throat felt clogged with a heavy stone—no words came out.
How could she explain herself to shake off this false accusation?
If she said she'd met the man alone in an empty warehouse, wouldn't they think it was a secret rendezvous?
And even if she admitted to meeting him, who would believe that a man who made even allies tremble had let a tiny woman like her take his necklace?
She glanced at Dever, who was watching the whole scene impassively.
Her stabilizing anchor—the man she'd been seeking.
She couldn't know the full details, but it was clear he'd been taking psychotropics for a long time. Whether prescribed or abused, she couldn't say.
Seeking out the warehouse in the dead of night, with no one around, meant he didn't want to be seen. Was it safe to mention it here?
Just hours ago, the name Dever had made her shiver as she braved the cold winds to the hospital. And now, cornered, she was worrying about him? Beth shook her head at her own foolishness.
Who am I to worry about anyone else?
Beth pulled a pen from her pocket. At the very least, she had to make clear she'd never done anything shameful.
Hunched down amid the cluster of tall men and women in heels, Beth looked even smaller. Dever's brow furrowed slightly. Nothing about this pleased him.
Not this ridiculous situation. Not this woman, who couldn't even speak up properly and instead crouched there scribbling away.
Why does she keep butting into my business?
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if those words might hurt her feelings, coming from such a small woman.
“I gave it to her. What's the problem?”
So this time, he decided to intervene. No particular reason. Maybe he just wanted to see that stubborn face of hers change expressions, if only once.
“What do you mean by that, Dever?”
Raphaelle fired off a sharp question at his unexpected entry.
“Nurse Beth was assigned to my treatment personally, so I handed her the key the Duchess gave me. Isn't that right?”
A smooth blend of truth and lies.
“Ah, yes, that's right.”
The Duchess backed him up on reflex, staring at Dever's calm face. She'd given him the key, yes—but assigning a head nurse unknown even to the director?
Still, she quickly caught on that Dever was helping Beth now. No point dragging this out when she knew how the key had ended up in Beth's hands.
Especially not in front of Raphaelle, where explaining Dever's medication might come up.
The necklace was Dever's, sure—but so what? Him and Beth? Water and oil—they didn't mix, and suspicions felt absurd.
Strength returned to the Duchess's voice.
“Raphaelle, you've misunderstood this time. I asked Beth to handle Dever's treatment personally.”
“You... even gave her the key?”
“Dever never comes to the hospital even when he's hurt, you know that. I gave her the key out of frustration. But since he wouldn't know one medicine from another, I specially asked Beth.”
The Duchess's lips twitched awkwardly at the unfamiliar lie.
“After Beth arrived, I had the head nurse take over the Army Commander's care.”
Their words tied up the situation neatly, as if rehearsed.
The lie from the man who'd been a mere bystander moments ago sounded like pure truth even to Beth herself.
“I see.”
Raphaelle tamped down her rising irritation and helped Beth to her feet. She was willing to play along with this much theater. It was necessary to keep the Duchess's trust.
“I'm sorry, Beth. I misunderstood. And to you too, Duchess. With all the shameful scandals in Wayne lately, I must have overreacted.”
“It's all right, Raphaelle. I understand.”
The Duchess was truly exhausted now, barely able to continue.
“Beth, if you're not going to listen, at least go to Aines and hear about the morning briefing.”
Shooing away the disobedient pup might calm her pounding heart, if only a little. As Beth scurried up the stairs, Dever's gaze followed. She played the suffocatingly frustrating card when it suited her, but moved with surprising quickness when needed.
“You're going to be late, Raphaelle.”
Arthur's grip on Raphaelle's wrist tightened, veins bulging.
“It's time anyway. I'll be off.”
Raphaelle had no desire to linger in this dingy hospital either. Arthur's uncharacteristic perceptiveness was almost commendable.
She watched his retreating back with a blank expression as he dragged her along.
“That hurts.”
Arthur didn't turn around. Only after seating her in the carriage did he release her wrist.
“There should be a military truck at the village.”
Raphaelle stared silently at Arthur, who spat out practical words instead of what he really wanted to say.
“That's not what you want to say.”
They were the only ones who could drop the pretenses with each other.
At least I have to hear your true feelings.
“Don't hold back.”
His throat bobbed heavily at her words.
“Why are you doing this to Beth?”
Beth. Beth. That damn Beth.
Raphaelle squeezed her eyes shut. In the single night since arriving at the hospital, she'd felt splattered with filthy mud at every turn. That nauseating name followed her everywhere.
Arthur whispered quietly.
“Don't get swept up in a passing breeze.”
Breeze.
Raphaelle remembered her mother all too well—a woman who'd spent her life craving the Emperor's love, only to wither away.
One of his countless women, swayed by the slightest zephyr of his affection.
A pitiful woman who'd died alone in the cold palace wings, loneliness her only companion.
Having inherited that blood, Raphaelle knew instinctively.
That Dever was different this time.
“I can't tolerate even a breeze.”
Her blue eyes were as calm as the sea before a storm.