Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: I Can't Sleep Because of You
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Beth bit the corner of her lip.
That man was always like this. With that expression, in that voice, saying those words—he kept crossing the line deep inside her.
"One time only."
The low murmur came through clearly. Was it the winter night's consideration? Or was it her own heart, eager to hear his words?
The knuckles gripping the windowsill turned white.
Dever willingly chose to wait for her consent. Her dark lashes lowered in thought, her slender shoulders rising and falling, her lip caught occasionally between her teeth. Watching every step leading to her agreement wasn't boring at all.
Finally, Beth motioned for him to hold on.
Dever felt a sudden ache near his heart. His hand tightened around the ointment jar he'd picked up from the floor.
His impatient gaze kept drifting to the door. Cold seeped up from the wall he leaned against, but he wasn't chilled. Heat surged through him in a strangely intense wave.
Rustle—he turned at the sound of dry grass crunching underfoot, and there she was, like a sweet dream.
Not high up where he couldn't reach, but right there within arm's reach: Beth Jens.
Beth fixed a stern expression on the hesitant man sitting there. Even as she beckoned him closer, he didn't budge.
"I'm not coming in."
Beth's brows furrowed slightly.
"I don't want to go in."
Unable to tolerate his pointless stubbornness any longer, she drew near.
She wondered if he was drunk, but there was no smell of alcohol. His cool gaze was just as it always was.
The man fiddling with the ointment jar simply sat there, leaning against the wall. Caught off guard by the unexpected behavior, Beth hesitated before grabbing the end of his sleeve.
What on earth is he doing without proper clothes on a night this cold?
Even tugging urgently at his sleeve, she knew that little bit of strength wouldn't move him. The eerie howl of the wind enveloped everything. Somehow, she was the one wearing herself out.
"Shall we go?"
"I don't want to go to the isolation room."
"Why?"
Dever chose his words carefully. Among the countless lies that sprang to mind, the most believable one. He wanted to make it so she had no choice but to follow him again, even if she thought she couldn't.
"Because I'm scared."
A desolate shadow hung in his downcast eyes. He could clearly see her dark pupils tremble as they met his.
He had spent his life probing for weaknesses. Sometimes to survive, sometimes to kill.
As a child, he'd watched his father Cassius without rest. Once grown a bit more, he'd scrutinized enemies; later still, allies and even the imperial family. Nothing around him merited a casual glance.
Beth Jens was weak to wounds.
This woman—so stubbornly obstinate, so inflexible, always frowning at his words—crumbled at the sight of vulnerability. Whether it was pity or sympathy didn't matter.
He just needed to grasp that single thread of her heart.
As long as he never let go.
"Then where do you want to go?"
As expected.
Beth's mind flashed back to all the countless incidents in the isolation room at his words. She'd vowed not to go soft, but here they were, right back where they started.
"Anywhere but the hospital."
After a moment's thought, Beth tugged his sleeve again. This time, the man stood obediently, and she draped her shawl over his shoulders. She'd always felt indebted to him ever since that night in the field when he'd given her his jacket.
"What are you doing?"
The shawl barely covered his shoulders, draped on awkwardly. Standing on tiptoe and struggling a few times with grunts of effort, Beth soon gave up, breathing heavily in small puffs.
Dever stared fixedly at her small back as she led the way.
"You're driving me crazy."
Even his quiet mutter scattered away on the wind.
Beth, already a ways ahead, waved her hand back and forth. The motion sparkled like a mirage in the darkness.
A little angry, Dever strode right up to her and unfurled the shawl. He wrapped it around her snugly, cocooning her tight. He felt her questioning gaze but ignored it easily enough.
Their footsteps naturally led toward the medicine storage room.
As she wriggled to free her arms, Dever reached in and unclasped the necklace from her nape. The chain, meeting its owner after so long, coiled softly into his hand.
Beth grabbed fresh bandages and disinfectant from the shelf, then rubbed her hands, chilled by the outside air, and huffed warm breath onto them.
"What?"
"Worried they'd be cold."
Her fingers, still carrying a chill, spoke for her.
Dever perched on the side table, his gaze drifting subtly to the frayed hem of her nurse's uniform.
"...I'm fine."
After warming her hands until they were lukewarm, Beth finally brought the bandage over. Dever turned his back to her, shirt off. Beth swallowed a sudden gasp.
His shoulder and back—hacked at wildly over an unhealed gunshot wound—were a total mess.
His back was covered in stab scars too numerous to count, overlaid with haphazard stitches.
Even as the disinfectant stung, the man didn't flinch. Only when it brushed the worst-gaping spot near his shoulder blade did the knotted muscles twitch faintly.
Beth felt a profound helplessness toward herself. There was nothing she could do. At last, unable to hold back, she let out a breath that echoed through the quiet storage room.
"No more of this."
The tweezers in her hand hovered in midair for a moment, and his breathing paused too.
Dever held the ointment jar out behind his back. But Beth couldn't bring herself to take it. She feared any more deception. What right did she have to offer such flimsy hope?
Instead of the ointment, she gently took hold of his fingertips. To confess the unfinished lie.
"Actually—"
"I know."
As if he didn't want to hear it, his hand clamped down on hers.
"I know. That you won't disappear."
Dever turned around.
Beth stared blankly into his eyes as he confessed that he'd known it was a lie all along. There had been a time when she'd thought those eyes scary and gloomy.
But when had it started?
When she'd discovered the kindness hidden within them.
"Do it. I just... just..."
Unlike him, he trailed off, his head dropping.
"That's enough."
With that quiet whisper, Dever buried his face in Beth's shoulder.
Beth quietly endured the soft strands of hair brushing her nape and the hot breath he exhaled.
The small, unremarkable ointment jar on the table was spotless. She'd thrown it on the dirt floor, yet it was pristine, without a speck. She could picture him picking it up and wiping it clean, even without seeing it.
Her heart felt strange. It kept doing that.
Now, Beth could trace with her eyes closed both the time he'd endured alone and the scars on his back.
He'd made her this way.
By the time Beth reached the dorm, excited voices and cheers rang all the way down the stairs.
Laughter poured out through the crack in the door.
"Beth! Come here quick!"
Everyone was so worked up that no one noticed her weary expression as she entered.
Dixie grabbed the hand of the bewildered Beth and pulled.
"Look at this."
Dixie took Aines's hand with her other.
There was a new ring on Aines's ring finger.
"Yes! That thing we suspected finally happened today!"
Sophia let out a shout.
"The Count proposed today. And get this—this ring? He bought it way back in Wayne and carried it around ever since. Isn't that romantic?"
"She'll get teased if Beth hears."
Aines tried to hide her embarrassment but couldn't suppress her flushed cheeks.
"Aines is the first among us to get married."
"Who knows who'll be next."
Dixie winked slyly at Beth.
"The wedding's in Wayne, obviously?"
"Yeah, probably."
"Oh, right, Beth—where's your hometown again? Not Wayne, is it?"
At the sudden question, Beth offered an ambiguous smile. She'd never told anyone about her hometown or family.
"Beth, when we get back, want to stay at my place until the wedding and help out? It'd be hard to decide everything alone—I think it'd be better with a friend to watch over things."
Aines quickly changed the subject.
She didn't know the circumstances, but everyone had things they didn't want to talk about. She wanted to protect that part of her friend.
"Huh? Let's stay at my dad's villa. The three of us together! We can help with Aines's wedding prep too. How about it? How about it?"
Dixie relentlessly repeated "how about it," tormenting Beth until she finally nodded reluctantly and flopped onto the bed. Beth collapsed beside her.
"This is peace. Real peace. Armistice and everything. Weddings too."
The girls kept excitedly chatting about the wedding well into the night, only turning in once dawn had deepened.
But Beth alone couldn't sleep, tossing and turning.
'No more of this.'
Dever's voice kept echoing in her mind. She rolled over, then finally sat up.
In a life hounded by violence, where fear was everyday routine, no one had ever come for her. No matter how much she prayed or cried, nothing changed.
But that cruel, cold man who dragged endless rumors in his wake had found her, saved her, and kept his promise.
She perched on the windowsill by the bed. The view beyond offered nothing to see, just quiet darkness slumbering. Thinking to let in some cold air, she grasped the handle.
No way.
Despite the thought, her heart began pounding uncontrollably. The old window creaked open in her place.
"Uh."
The man below let out a deflated sound, clearly not expecting the window to fly open.
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
The man laughed right away, his face far more at ease than it had been in the storage room earlier. Utterly unaware of how much that alone could unsettle her heart.
"Can't sleep because you keep popping into my head?"
Beth realized it in a flash.
Yes. These feelings I have for this man.
"I can't sleep because of you."
It was the moment her heart—unknown even to herself—took on a clear shape.