Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Stay Until I Sleep
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Beth jerked her head up at Dever, who was gazing at her from so close their breaths could mingle, then quickly grimaced. The wound on her neck, not yet fully healed, stung sharply.
Dever clicked his tongue lightly at the woman's deeply furrowed brow. He straightened his bent knee and perched on the edge of the bed, throwing their matched gazes out of alignment once more.
Her clear eyes, still heavy with sleep and utterly defenseless, met Dever's.
"I thought you were planning to sleep here with me since you just wouldn't wake up."
Sure enough, the woman's dazed, blinking eyes turned sharp in an instant. Her lips pressed tight as her hand twisted the ointment cap, betraying just how annoyed she was.
Dever's lips twitched with amusement, like an itch from some insect.
"Have you ever seen your own sleeping face?"
Her busy hands paused at the out-of-left-field question. The man somehow looked pleased, though she couldn't fathom what delighted him so.
Beth ignored the pointless query and gestured for him to undress.
The man's back, as he unbuttoned his shirt, was unchanged from the first time she'd seen it. She already knew scars like that couldn't come from gunshot wounds or blasts. Unless he'd been kidnapped into enemy territory and tortured with whips, maybe.
Rumors swirled endlessly about Dever Cliff, but she'd never heard a whisper of him being taken prisoner. All that trailed him were tales of unbroken victories.
So who could have...
"Looks a bit better?"
The man turned back. Beth nodded, almost entranced by his expectant gaze.
Was it foolish pity or a sense of kinship? Or some absurd illusion that she shared a corner of his soul? Her life could never compare to a duke of the Cliff family, but anyone would want to erase a horrific past.
Even if the scars remained unchanged, disappointing him, right now she wanted to offer him a sliver of hope. That was why Beth couldn't stop lying.
Dever prodded his sharp canines with his tongue. His mouth itched unbearably, like a pup starting to teethe. This woman spun pretty little lies just like that, clueless about her effect. It felt like cradling a tiny fledgling in his palm, toying with it.
With the ointment fully applied, she handed him a small packet like the night before.
"......"
He'd already gotten the stolen vials through Arthur, so he no longer needed secret nightly sedatives from Beth.
But was there any need to say something pointless?
"Thanks. Looks like I'll survive another night thanks to you."
She'd heard "thank you" so often as a nurse that it bored her. Yet when it came from Dever's lips, something stirred in her chest. Just a pleasantry, but her heart fluttered... Enough to make her wonder if that's why he craved those words from her so badly.
The clock had already ticked well past one.
Beth hurriedly gathered her things. Meeting Duke Dever at night always felt a touch more alien, and the odd discomfort twisting her heart about it was strange.
At the sound of him following her out, Beth whipped around. Where did he think he was going in that state? Her hand gave him a light shove. To his credit, Dever obligingly stepped back a few paces.
"Heading out alone in the dead of night."
The muzzle of a gun peeked from Beth's apron pocket. Before she could react, Dever swiftly plucked it out.
"What if you run into someone like me?"
Words he'd once flung at her in the warehouse.
Unlike his snappish tone back then, this was languid. He wouldn't listen anyway, so Beth resigned herself and quickened her pace.
Dever leaned against the doorframe, waiting until she fetched the coat Dixie called "dead oak tree." As she buttoned it up, her eyes swept over the man before her. A flicker of worry—would he be cold like that?—but she shook it off.
How far did she plan to meddle in his affairs?
The man seemed more focused elsewhere than on the chill, which was probably for the best.
"You trust me, huh?"
Another oddball question tonight.
"Not long ago, you bolted the second you saw me."
Well... Beth's lips parted as if to retort, then closed. It wasn't wrong. She'd trembled every time she encountered him in the dark.
Since when had being with him started feeling reassuring instead?
Even at her lodging door, Beth stared at some vague spot in the air from the awkwardness. She'd dragged her feet, expecting him to turn back sensibly, but he showed no sign of moving—like he was waiting for their eyes to meet.
In the end, Beth had no choice but to meet Dever's gaze. His eyes held steady, as if they'd been fixed on her from the start.
"Something to say?"
A faint amusement laced his voice. She shook her head at his outstretched palm, offered as if it were the most natural thing.
During the day, he hadn't cared if she came or went.
His inexplicably good mood irked her a little. That air of leisure, always just for himself, was infuriating.
"Good night."
Beth paused at his parting words for the night.
Even after shutting the door, she couldn't bring herself to head upstairs, lingering with her hand on the knob, ears straining.
The wind, maybe? Strangely, no footsteps sounded from the thin door beyond—the man who should have left.
"Beth."
Dr. Barden whispered, pointing upstairs to signal the hospital director's office.
He roamed the hospital, making the same gesture to everyone. All were field hospital draftees. Unlike yesterday's clueless ascent, today's awareness heightened the tension.
"Thank you all. I know you're busy."
Madam Molly greeted the group.
"Gail..."
Aines murmured softly upon spotting Gail's stony expression. He stood rigid, ignoring her presence despite knowing she was there.
"The reason for calling you today..."
The lady's voice noticeably trembled at the end. Everyone anticipated her words but dared not voice them first.
Arthur picked up for her.
"The battle date has been advanced. You all must head to the field hospital before dawn tomorrow."
Silence filled the room.
Beth, oddly enough, felt calm upon arrival today. As if she'd been waiting for this moment.
"You'll move with the army at the front lines. Field hospitals are incomparable to here—nightmarish. You'll be the hospital itself; don't expect barracks or anything. Some of you may be seeing real battlefields for the first time."
Arthur's eyes turned to Beth.
"Escort soldiers will protect you, but I can't guarantee safety. You've had basic firearms training, but we'll review it today—commit it to memory."
Gail followed, demonstrating loading, firing, and magazine changes.
Gail never once lifted his gaze throughout. Aines's eyes never left him.
For over an hour, no one but Arthur spoke.
"I... pray you all survive..."
Even as the group dispersed after those uninspiring final words, the eerie silence lingered unbroken.
Time flowed mercilessly onward.
Not even sparing those on the brink of a life-or-death journey.
The early winter sun dipped low, callously shoving thick sunset hues deep into the wards.
Beth and Aines, packing medical bags for the coming dawn in the supply room, stared blankly out the window.
"What if, Beth."
Aines spoke up.
Her eyes, catching the sunset glow, were tinged red.
"If I die, and you find me..."
Beth bowed her head. She didn't want to hear it.
Aines grabbed her hand urgently.
"Beth, if you find my body, take off this necklace and deliver it to Gail, okay?"
A new necklace dangled from Aines's neck. Opening the familiar round pendant revealed her portrait inside.
'It's pretty. Keep it.'
It resembled the one Dever had bought at the market when they'd gone together.
Aines smiled faintly.
"Didn't know, but apparently these are all the rage among lovers in Wayne lately. Funny, right? Gail knows nothing about it."
Her voice strained against tears, trembling fiercely.
"You'll do it, right?"
Beth nodded reluctantly.
"I know you're a worrier. Just asking once, for peace of mind."
Even her forced cheer couldn't lift the sunken mood.
The sunset dragged darkness in far too swiftly.
Cruel to hearts unprepared for night.
"What's wrong."
Dever asked at her unusually pale face, but Beth finished her task swiftly, as if chased, and stood.
"What's wrong, I said."
Dever lightly tugged her wrist as she turned. Beth faced the man before her, no choice.
"I asked what's wrong."
You're heading into battle at dawn tomorrow too, and you ask what's wrong? Beth found Dever's question bizarre.
"Tired?"
Yeah. Maybe he could be like that. He'd lived battles like daily meals, waged wars endlessly. Perhaps tomorrow was just another ordinary day to him. That's why he seemed so serene.
"Not taking meds tonight."
Dever smoothly tossed out the habitual lie. He wanted to see her shadowed face brighten—smile or not, anything lighter than now.
And as expected, her eyes widened round at his refusal. Dever quite liked the small change.
"As you probably guessed, I'm addicted to sedatives."
His mouth itched again. Pressing his canines hard drew a metallic tang on his tongue.
"Nights without them are pretty scary."
Truth mingled moderately into lies was far harder to spit out.
"Don't go until I fall asleep. A dedicated nurse can't abandon her patient."
He expected a glare or sigh, but her expression was unexpectedly neutral. After a brief hesitation, she nodded calmly.
She went to the door, switched off the light. Moonlight poured through the curtainless window, illuminating her face.
Beth approached Dever, lying prone. Soon, a small, soft hand touched his eyelids. A familiar scent wafted in, standing in for his blocked vision.
Reassuring him she was there.
Promising she wouldn't leave him behind.
Dever, hesitating to close his eyes, finally surrendered to the scent and did so.