Not Seen as a Man
Outside Loudhill, Nyx didn't care what other people called him. He couldn't gag every loose tongue in the world. But one sycophant close enough to keep calling him "Your Grace" was already more than enough—and Desidero alone was plenty.
The title of Duke of Farrow, Lord of Loudhill, was far too heavy a burden for someone as young as he was.
…I thought that five years ago already.
Nyx let out a self-deprecating snort as he considered how much older he had become since then.
While Nyx snorted, Tichite was lost in confusion. She clasped her hands tightly together and asked, hesitation thick in her voice.
"Then… what should I call you when I want to speak to you, my lord?"
She wore the awkward expression of a child meeting a cousin for the first time.
She understood that he was treating her as a temporary presence. She could also accept that a nobleman of his rank had no reason to reveal her exact status in an environment without sufficient guards. But then what was she supposed to call him?
The man gave a low hum. Tichite thought it was the sound of someone who had no ready answer, but the reason was different.
She wants to know what to call me when she speaks to me?
The very assumption that she could freely address him at all was already far too bold.
Yet whenever Nyx Farrow faced this woman, the lines of hierarchy kept blurring.
She wants to speak to me?
His ears latched onto that single phrase.
What did it mean when a woman wanted to speak to a man?
While the man drowned in a happy confusion, Tichite thought.
A servant calling her master by name was unthinkable. "My lord" felt too distant, while "master" felt far too intimate.
"Should I just call you Commander? If that is what you are most comfortable with."
Strictly speaking, she was not a member of the Iron Horse Knights, but she could find no more suitable title.
Commander…
The man repeated the title he had heard countless times, yet it sounded strangely unfamiliar now. When spoken in her soft, feminine voice, even that cold, official rank sounded gentle. His entire body itched. To hide the burning sensation, he forced his tone to remain gruff.
"Do… as you like."
He fiddled with the leather belt near his knee as if to change the subject.
Nyx needed to remove his armor and rest.
He was waiting for her to leave, while she, conversely, was waiting for him to undress. Ironically, their desires aligned perfectly for the next moment.
After an awkward standoff, Nyx was the one who finally spoke.
"…What are you doing? You can leave now."
The first thing he wanted to remove was the helmet, but he reached for the easiest piece instead—his greaves. Tichite showed no sign of leaving.
"Actually, there is something I need to discuss with you, Commander."
She spoke in a tone he would find difficult to refuse, her fingers twisting together.
"In spring, dandelions bloom."
Nyx frowned inside his helmet. Dandelions, out of nowhere. The topic was completely unrelated to anything they had been discussing, but he decided to listen anyway.
"Why?"
"Dandelions are small yellow flowers that bloom in sunny places. Their seeds are round and fluffy, and each one is actually a separate seed that flies away when the wind blows…"
"I know what they are."
The woman had apparently assumed that because Nyx did not recognize Ari Moss, he would also be ignorant about other plants and flowers.
When the man cut her off, she skipped the description of the dandelion's appearance and moved closer to the point.
"Once dandelions start blooming, all their medicinal properties go into the flowers. If you want to harvest the stems or roots, you have to collect them before they bloom."
"…They're used as medicine?"
"Yes. You can crush them and apply them, or brew them to prevent inflammation. They are also effective for treating boils."
Once the apothecary began speaking of medicine, Nyx finally understood what she wanted.
"So?"
He asked, wondering if she intended to go out and gather dandelions right this moment.
"The roots of self-heal and the vines of honeysuckle, which are used to treat eczema and rashes, must also be harvested before summer ends, just like dandelions. For white mulberry, used for blisters and erythema, the roots must be picked and dried before the leaves grow too thick. Each medicinal herb has its own season and location, and if a plant does not even grow in a certain place, then what are we supposed to do?"
She listed her concerns one by one, then finally voiced what she truly wanted.
"So, if you would allow me to examine your wounds beforehand, I could prepare the necessary medicines for your skin condition in advance. I need to know what kind of symptoms you have before I can decide on the right herbs and treatment methods."
In short, she wanted him to show her his bare skin.
"I… I showed you my hand last time."
"It was too dark then for a proper examination. Besides, how can I make an accurate diagnosis from just a small area? The symptoms on the back of your hand and your palm were different, so your face, neck, or other areas probably are not exactly the same either. There must be slight differences, right?"
"…I can describe the symptoms."
"It is not the same as seeing them with my own eyes."
Everything she said was correct, and the man could find no way to escape. Cold sweat ran down his back inside the armor—this time for an entirely different reason than being outdoors. Her persistence stung more than the midday sun.
"Sir Zama said you have been unable to remove your armor because of me and have been living in discomfort. I am truly fine, so please do not worry and wear something comfortable."
Tichite spoke, trying to appear composed and trustworthy in her desire to earn his confidence.
The more the woman pressed, the more Nyx's mind grew hazy.
"No, I…"
His voice, formed by a parched tongue, came out shriveled and dry.
"I…"
Nyx wanted things to stay as they were. He wanted her to keep imagining him freely without knowing what he actually looked like. If that meant Tichite would never find him repulsive or horrifying in the future, then so be it. He did not know what kind of hideous face she was picturing, but it had to be better than reality.
Nyx believed it was all thanks to the armor. The woman treated him like a normal man—more than that, she even smiled at him with that lovely face. And now she even said she wanted to speak to him. Nyx Farrow had never once been the kind of man a woman would want to approach since his face had become like this.
After a fierce internal struggle, he spoke.
"I… I don't want to."
"I don't want to…"
"If I were a male physician, would you still avoid me this much? If so, that would be truly unfair. I have never once committed a sin against a patient or harbored any shameful thoughts. I swear on your Moon Mother—I have always been an honest and upright healer."
Tichite spoke as if pleading for him to understand her sincerity.
She had never once looked at a patient's body and felt disgust or improper thoughts. Just as one did not waste mental energy on the foulness of a rotten radish when touching it. A radish was simply a radish, and a body was simply a body. She had always kept her mouth firmly shut regarding any sensitive matters or private affairs patients wished to hide.
So if Nyx Farrow lacked trust in women to this extent, she wanted to prove it to him. Gender meant nothing between patient and physician. She felt she could never emphasize it enough.
"Don't think of me as a woman. I don't see you as a man either. So you can trust me and leave it to me."
She spoke earnestly, her serious voice and bright eyes begging for his trust.
But the moment Nyx heard those words, his heart froze solid. It felt as though a massive awl had been driven into his chest and a hammer had struck it down. His heart cracked like ice beneath his feet.
I don't see you as a man.
You don't look like a man.
You couldn't possibly look like a man.
You couldn't possibly feel like a man.
Something like you, a disgusting monster like you…
Nyx sank into a stunned silence.
The moment she declared that she did not see him as a man, he realized with painful clarity the opposite truth—that he saw her, unmistakably, as a woman.