Ériu glanced sideways, observing Scáthach, who had been acting like someone whose soul had vanished for the past few days. It was only natural for her to be angry, because she hadn’t slept properly due to warehouse cleaning every other day, and now she had been assigned laundry duty too.
“If you’re going to assign someone humanely to the medicine warehouse shift, you should at least excuse them from laundry duty, right?”
“Mmm.”
Ever since she had been caught with the Admiral, she had been like this, so that had to be the only reason.
Should she file a complaint somewhere? But the Admiral was in charge here. There was no way she could report the Admiral to the Admiral himself.
“Mungmungi.”
The large black dog, who came and went from the laundry area as if it were his own home, wagged his tail and rubbed against her as usual, but Scáthach’s unusually indifferent reaction felt strangely out of character.
That behavior, too, had started only after that incident.
Staring blankly, Scáthach muttered words the black dog couldn’t possibly understand.
“Right? Your master, wait.”
Even though she would inevitably give in and pet Mungmungi when he whined, her face remained deeply sullen. Just as Ériu shrugged her shoulders, a small cough from Lugaid broke the silence.
“Ahem, ahem. Hello.”
“Oh, Mr. Lugaid!”
Lugaid had been helping the two of them with warehouse cleaning for several days now.
Though Lugaid apologized repeatedly, claiming he knew little about medicines and could only manage some heavy lifting, the truth was that simply accompanying them inside that terrifying warehouse at night was more than enough, and he was already fulfilling his role admirably.
Noticing the black dog clinging tightly to Scáthach, Lugaid made an awkward attempt at familiarity.
“Nix, you’ve been busy running around since morning. You’re full of energy.”
Scáthach’s expression changed as if struck on the head upon hearing the dog’s name slip from Lugaid’s lips.
“Mungmungi? His name is what?”
Lugaid flushed and replied, “Nix. He’s the dog His Excellency the Admiral keeps.”
Scáthach felt a dull ache at the back of her head as she stared at Nix. No wonder, he looked astonishingly similar to the Nix she knew.
Scáthach desperately wanted to know why Nix, who had supposedly run away from the convent, had ended up here as the Admiral’s companion.
Lugaid helped Scáthach and Ériu with their laundry duty, hoping he looked rather dashing as he vigorously shook out the blankets and hung them on the lines behind the medical staff’s quarters.
Ever since learning the black dog’s name was Nix, Scáthach had worn a strangely irritated expression.
She showed absolutely no interest in Lugaid’s attempts to appear manly, rolling up his uniform sleeves and all.
Ever since it was revealed he was younger than her, Lugaid had been subtly treated like a younger brother, which he disliked immensely, hence his eagerness to throw himself into any physical task to help. Of course, the latex glove incident didn’t help either.
“Miss Scáthach, please hand that to me. I’ll hang it!”
“It’s fine.”
At her curt refusal, his shoulders slumped.
Though Lugaid was satisfied with how much closer they had become, from initially addressing her as pretty nurse to now being able to call her by name, he still couldn’t help wishing she would rely on him just a little more.
“There haven’t been many wounded these past few days.”
Fortunately, Ériu broke the awkward silence and spoke to Lugaid.
“Well, operational meetings were suspended several days ago, and there have been no deployment orders, so we’re indefinitely on standby.”
“That’s why you’re here helping with the laundry, it’s nice. Maybe they’re preparing for a truce?”
“I don’t think so. Something seems to have happened to His Excellency the Admiral.”
The moment Lugaid uttered His Excellency the Admiral, both he and Ériu instinctively turned their eyes toward Scáthach.
Scáthach pretended not to hear, briskly shaking out the laundry, but the way she bit her lower lip suggested she had heard every word.
“Mr. Lugaid, come over here.”
Ériu pulled Lugaid aside, leaving Scáthach mechanically doing her chores with a face on the verge of tears.
“Remember the first day we met in the warehouse?”
Ériu glanced around and lowered her voice. Lugaid instinctively crouched down too.
“You saw it, right?”
“Um.”
Lugaid hesitated, his expression turning troubled. The scene he had been trying so hard to forget had just surfaced in his memory.
Unlike Ériu, he hadn’t dared look directly at either the Admiral or Scáthach, so he hadn’t noticed details like the injury on the Admiral’s lip or Scáthach’s swollen, reddened lips.
But he had clearly sensed the strange tension between them.
Seeing Lugaid’s expression, Ériu nodded even before hearing his answer.
“Since you saw it, we understand each other. For now, absolutely no mentioning the Admiral in front of Scáthach.”
“Understood.”
Lugaid nodded obediently. Ériu looked at him with a regretful expression.
Why did such a sweet, gentle boy have to end up paired with Scáthach, who had caught the eye of someone as cold and arrogant as Admiral Blachnatt, a noble of the Ten Houses, no less? A romance between noble and commoner rarely ended well.
“I swear I won’t let that Admiral of yours off easily.”
“Haha.”
Lugaid gave a helpless smile at Ériu’s words. Of course he, too, wasn’t fond of the Admiral, but just because they shared the same space didn’t mean they were alike.
Both sighed as they recalled the Admiral’s impossibly refined, untouchable face, noble, arrogant, and utterly beyond their reach.
After finishing their duties, they had lunch and returned to their respective posts. They had originally been assigned to the third-floor ward together, but due to Cathleen’s whim, Scáthach was now responsible for the second floor.
This unexpected change caught both Scáthach and the Duke off guard.
Following Cathleen’s instructions, Scáthach arrived at the private room on the second floor carrying sedatives and other medications, and nearly dropped her tray when she saw the man seated on the bed.
The Duke, too, seemed surprised to see her, his eyes widening slightly, though otherwise, his expression remained unreadable.
Scáthach gave a silent nod of greeting after days of not seeing him and placed the tray beside his bed.
“I’ll give you the sedatives in full as you requested, but please don’t take more than three pills a day. Also, I heard you were injured. If you show me the wound, I can disinfect it for you.”
“.”
As the Duke stared at her silently without replying, Scáthach began to feel as though her throat were tightening.
“If you’re uncomfortable, shall I call someone else?”
At her words, he chuckled softly.
“Me, calling for someone else? Because of you?”
His mocking tone stung her pride so deeply she wanted to flee right then and there. Yet Scáthach forced herself to treat him simply as one of her patients.
“If that’s not the case, I’m sorry. Could you please show me your wound?”
Slowly, the Duke sat up. He tilted his gaze downward, locking eyes with Scáthach, then removed his uniform jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness.
She had only asked to see the wound, not for him to undress under that intense, lingering gaze.
But looking away felt like losing, so Scáthach stood her ground, staring straight back into his eyes while desperately suppressing her racing heartbeat and feigning complete indifference.
Yet the moment she saw the wound, her expression crumpled.
“How can you show me a wound like this so calmly!”
Wrapped tightly in bandages around his bare side was gauze heavily soaked in blood, clearly an emergency dressing.
“It’s bearable.”
She prayed it wasn’t a gunshot wound. There was only one surgeon at the field hospital, and due to a critical patient that day, surgery wouldn’t finish until late afternoon.
As Scáthach’s hands grew impatient while unwrapping the bandages, the Duke caught her wrist.
“I’ll do it.”
If it weren’t him, she might have fumbled until the bandages were hopelessly tangled. Seeing the mess, she now understood why he had stopped her.
“Alright.”
Though she had seen far worse injuries before, his gentle grip on her wrist and his unexpectedly soft tone caught her off guard.
“It’s just a knife graze, no need to tremble like that.”
He picked up the scissors from the tray and carefully cut away the bandages and gauze covering his abdomen.
True to his word, though the knife wound was deeper than a mere graze, it wasn’t life-threatening by battlefield standards.
Once that realization sank in, her attention was overwhelmed by the powerful pectorals and perfectly sculpted abdominal muscles before her, like marble carved by master hands.
She had seen countless patients’ bodies, so why now?
“Why is your face so red?”
“I’m not usually like this.”
“Want to see a mirror?”
“It’s just hot.”
She tried her best to appear unaffected, yet knew full well he wasn’t the kind of man she could fool. All she could hope for was not to be found out.
“So you get hot just looking at my body?”
Only a man like him would say something so shameless so casually.
True to his words, Scáthach’s face burned even hotter, and in her fluster, she ended up pouring disinfectant directly onto his wound instead of using a cotton pad.
He grimaced slightly but made no sound or complaint. Somehow, that dramatic reaction wouldn’t suit him anyway.
Then suddenly, the question she had wanted to ask him all along surfaced, alongside the shock she had felt when Lugaid first said Nix.
“About Nix.”
The Duke tilted his head slightly, listening as if inviting her to continue. Seeing no sign he would answer on his own, she asked directly.
“Why did you take him?”
“You abandoned him.”
“That’s not.”
“If not abandonment, then consider him a hostage.”
He replied shamelessly, without a trace of embarrassment, leaving Scáthach flustered instead.
“A hostage? What do you?”
“The late Duke’s murder remains unsolved, and you’re still a suspect.”
“Me, a suspect?”
Seeing her astonished expression, he looked genuinely pleased.
“Sometimes I think executing you outright would be the simplest solution.”
“But back then, you clearly let me go.”
Scathach forced herself to recall that painful day. He was, after all, a noble of the Ten Houses, bound by their rules.
As a former royal herself, she understood all too well just how selfishly nobles could act for their own convenience.
“I regret it.”
He still hadn’t put his shirt back on, disinfectant still dripping down his torso, as he pulled Scathach onto his lap.
Before she could even think of resisting, he whispered in a voice sweet as if confessing love.
“If I’d just locked you back in prison, you wouldn’t have run away from me like that.”
“”
“Was marrying that bastard really that satisfying?”
Ah.
So that was it, he thought she had married Nemed.
Now Scathach finally understood why he kept speaking as if she were married.
Loegal had never told her the Duke had visited, nor mentioned his own lies, and he had believed silence was the proper courtesy toward a wounded heart.
“Tell me, Scáthach.”
“What?”
Scathach quickly stood up and stepped back, allowing her to fully meet the Duke’s intense gaze.
“Do you really like that bastard that much?”
Scathach looked at him with a slightly dazed expression.
I don’t understand why you keep looking at me with such pain in your eyes.
Those cold, crimson eyes, usually so chilling, now burned with unmistakable longing and jealousy. The sight was almost laughable, and she had to bite back a bitter smile.
Yes, he might hide all expression, but he wasn’t emotionless. Because of that, memories from three years ago, which should have long faded, returned vividly.
How he had rescued her from the underground prison. How kind he had been during their week together. His feverish lips and hands in their final moments, desperate as if mad with desire. The sweet, lovesick gaze in his eyes, as if he had truly fallen for her.
Scathach thought she might never understand this man. Perhaps never, for as long as she lived.
And yet, she wanted to uncover the true nature of his lingering attachment, to even take his own dog hostage, claiming it as collateral.
Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to crush it beneath her heel.
She wanted to return the exact same emotions he had made her feel that day.
Scathach took one step forward, then another, until she stood directly between his knees. This time, it was the Duke who looked genuinely flustered.
Seeing him uncharacteristically rattled, always so composed yet now visibly shaken, made her lips curl upward naturally.
Her warm hands gently cupped his cheeks. He didn’t dare brush away those lowly hands touching his face.
“Scáthach.”
His voice was low and hoarse. His eyelids fluttered slowly. Those stunning crimson eyes couldn’t look away from her. Seeing this, her trembling instantly ceased, and she could even play her part with bold confidence now.
“The truth is, I’m in a bit of financial trouble.”
“”
The Duke looked as if he had been struck from behind, his expression almost dazed, clearly unprepared for those words.
“Is your offer from last time still valid?”
He managed a nod, looking so helplessly ensnared it was almost comical.
“How much will you give me?”
“Not sure.”
Scathach’s thumb slowly traced his lips. This time, she couldn’t quite pretend indifference, but the Duke, already in full panic, likely didn’t notice.
“A lot. Give me a very large amount. As you know, my husband is quite incapable.”
Watching his expression visibly sour, Scathach smiled beautifully.