Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: A Good Lie
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Ever since everyone gasped at the sight of me, Beth had spent the whole day stuck doing paperwork and simple chores that kept her away from the soldiers. No matter how stubbornly she insisted she was fine, it made no difference.
When she barged into the ward determined to work come hell or high water, Dixie burst into tears the moment she laid eyes on her, forcing Beth to retreat without even taking a step inside.
The light above Beth's head flickered unsteadily as she sat alone in the dispensary.
Hearing the sizzling sound, she glanced up and turned her stiff neck from side to side. Every tiny movement sent a throb through the wound on her throat.
Just a graze from a bullet hurt this much—how much worse must it be for the soldiers lying there?
She shook her head to chase away the aching sympathy. The light slaps to her cheeks meant to jolt her awake mingled with the bulb's sputtering crackle.
As she tried to refocus on the prescription she was rewriting, the sparking grew ominous, and soon the room plunged into pitch blackness.
The field hospital on Nexus's outskirts lost power often. Nexus might be the most advanced nation around, but extending electricity to every corner of the vast empire was still a stretch.
It was understandable why noble daughters—for whom fashion was taste and the latest trends were lifestyle—couldn't hack it in a place like this.
But for Beth, this was nothing.
She'd gone hungry plenty of times, shivered through midwinters in unheated attics, burned with fever through sleepless nights.
She lit the oil lamp on the corner of the table with practiced ease, and soon a soft glow wrapped around her in a circle. It was a rare moment of comfort. From fleeing the rear lines under surprise attack until now, her mind hadn't known a single instant of rest.
Outside the window, black as ink where nothing was visible even an inch ahead, not a single grasshopper chirped tonight. In that unusual silence, thick drowsiness rolled in.
Her shadowed eyelashes blinked slowly, blurring her vision. Maybe just lay her head down for a moment. A quick shut-eye, and she'd be good as new.
It was then, as Beth's head tilted toward the window.
"!"
Startled out of her wits, Beth shot upright. The motion knocked over the lamp, drowning the room once more in suffocating darkness.
Her heart began to pound wildly.
Just before slipping into shallow sleep, she'd spotted a man's silhouette in the window—a black mirror reflecting the dispensary—that she hadn't noticed moments ago.
Tak.
The open door clicked shut behind someone.
The terror of that unforgettable dawn crashed over her again. Who was it? Another enemy soldier? Beth's uncontrollable, hitching breaths filled the space between her and the stranger.
If only there was light, she might find a way to escape. The man who'd closed the door simply kept silent, making no move at all.
Beth's hand groped blindly along the shelf behind her back. Terrified he might lunge, she couldn't turn around. All the while, her fingers fumbled near the matches atop the shelf.
The familiar scrape of a Zippo lighter she'd heard before rang out, followed by a voice she knew.
"What're you looking for."
Gray eyes flickered sharply in the lighter's flame.
The instant she realized the shadow was Dever, tension drained from Beth's legs, and they buckled. Dever didn't miss a beat. The man closed in and lifted her effortlessly with one arm.
He must have been outside—chill clung to him.
Beth scrambled free of his hold. Unlike her flustered retreat, Dever calmly righted the fallen lamp and lit it.
"Weren't you about to sleep?"
Beth hastily straightened in her chair. Embarrassment made her insides burn.
"Dozing off's nothing to be ashamed of."
The tall man leaning casually against the empty chair looked infuriatingly smug.
Beth gripped her pen tight. What did he want to spout off about this time? She vowed never to share words or incidents with the duke, no matter what.
Dever eyed the woman intently as she blatantly signaled her intent to ignore him, burying her head among the lined-up medicines.
What had her so pissed? He'd even rescued her from the princess's trap today.
"Not grateful I saved you?"
The woman's busy hands faltered. But soon enough, they busied themselves again as if she'd heard nothing.
Dever slowly stroked his chin.
"Why're you mad."
It was a surprisingly gentle tone.
In broad daylight, when light laid everything bare, Dever was the flawless duke and army commander, without a single blemish.
But in the dimmer hours when presence could fade into shadow, he felt a little different. At least to Beth.
Was it just her imagination, since she kept running into this man at night?
In the lamp's flickering light, shadows deepened the contours of his eyes beyond the usual.
Beth tore a corner from a blank paper, scribbled something, and slid it to the table's center.
[Don't talk]
Dever huffed a sigh-like laugh. Quite the cheeky order. Lucky she hadn't told him to scram like that morning. He glanced from paper to woman and back.
She was engrossed once more in divvying up the damn medicines.
Dever's fingers drummed the table in steady rhythm—not too slow, not too fast. He had considerable patience. He kept at it until Beth finally shot him another glare.
"Came to see my nurse, but no treatment. You're my personal nurse, right? Or not?"
Stubborn man. That was Beth's verdict on Dever.
[What's the problem.]
Dever's eyebrow twitched up slightly. Better than that earlier 'Don't talk,' at least.
"You gave me too little medicine."
The nagging about meds from the tiresome man she'd briefly forgotten resurfaced. He was ruining her solitude, but all the better.
Beth quickly slipped off the necklace and held it out. She was even grateful for his unwanted visit.
The man she'd expected to snatch the key with relish just stared at the necklace instead. Scrutinizing his inscrutable face yielded nothing—he wasn't one for expressions anyway.
Beth wiggled her hand like take it already. Then the necklace draped softly between her slender fingers.
"Isn't it no entry for non-medical staff?"
True enough. That's why she'd dared to swipe the empire's duke and army commander's necklace.
Beth hurriedly unhooked the key. With the bloodstained old thing gone, the supposedly priceless necklace sparkled like it had found its true self.
This time, she offered the keyless chain. Her heart lightened at the thought of severing that thin link between her and the duke.
But now the man found fault with something else, hands clasped, utterly immovable. As the moment stretched, Beth's outstretched arm grew mortifyingly awkward.
While she debated grabbing her pen again, Dever finally spoke.
"Madam Molly said I need to cut back on the medicine."
A lie.
"Said you'd help out responsibly."
Once started, the lie flowed on calmly.
Dever rose, his long shadow tilting over Beth. He took the dangling necklace from midair, then pocketed the key from the table.
The faded key in his hand clicked jauntily into the necklace's center.
"It's a necklace I really treasure."
Lie on lie.
"I'll take it back the day I quit the meds. Call it collateral."
Dever's gaze darkened for a split second.
"I want to quit."
The faintly lonely voice made him sound like a pitiful soul truly desperate to kick the habit.
Crazy bastard.
He sneered inwardly at himself. Quitting had never crossed his mind, then or now.
Dever slowly raised his downcast eyes. He was the liar, yet her gaze wavered.
Yeah, never seeing that innocently shaken face again might sting a little.
That's why he'd done it.
"Of course, not yet. Gotta take today's dose too."
Beth was recalling the first day she'd run into Dever in the medicine storeroom.
She'd given him a canister far smaller than the one he'd first tried to grab, yet he'd already gone through it? Then what Madam Molly had supposedly told him couldn't be a lie.
Dever's words of weakness, which had seemed unbreakable no matter what, rippled through Beth far more than he'd imagined. He had no clue what part of her he'd struck.
After agonizing, Beth stood and grabbed the lamp. She pointed outside with a finger—let's go to the storeroom.
Dever bit his lip watching the back of her head as she stepped ahead. He'd nearly laughed.
Acting all clever, but she couldn't spot a lie about meds? Or maybe he was just that good an actor.
As Beth reached to open the hospital's main door, she whipped around to Dever. His face was its usual blank mask, but the corner of his mouth curved slightly, like he was smiling.
But what reason did this man have to smile at her side? Beth turned back and opened the door.
The moment it swung open, frozen night air blasted in.
Beth's shoulders hunched tight. The faint glow from the little lamp in her hand felt like a furnace by comparison—the outside was that brutally cold.
Then a thick men's jacket settled over her shoulders. Dever's body heat warmed the lining.
Dever plucked the lamp from her hand and took the lead. Beth stood there blankly, staring after him.
Dever doubled back toward her. She didn't just have the jacket on—she was buried in it.
"What. You're already wearing Arthur's. A gentleman's duty. Can't leave a lady out in the cold."
Playful words.
"Come on, quick."
He jerked his head toward the storeroom and set off again.
Beth's eyes locked on the man's back striding through the early winter night in just his shirtsleeves. First time seeing it, she thought.
Soon her own steps followed the path he'd trodden.
Behind the leading Dever came the patter of her quickening steps, struggling to match his wide stride.
"Ha."
His lips curved up without restraint.
No need to hide it.
Today, he'd told a damn good lie.
Dever was certain.