Episode 8 — Holden Fay Takes
He grew up in a family where nothing was lacking — a warm and harmonious home.
That was Holden’s world.
Even if the family’s fortune had waned and they’d had to live frugally, Holden’s siblings were brilliant.
His mother was wise, and his father was as close as a friend.
The three children who grew up under their parents’ care all became excellent doctors.
The eldest sister — a renowned physician in the capital, known by all.
The second — a doctor who loyally followed and assisted her.
And the youngest, Holden, who worked hard to follow in their footsteps.
“If you return safely without injury, that alone will be enough for us.”
When his mother said that, his father nodded in agreement.
They were a family without greed for wealth — content with what they had.
But there was one reality they could not escape: once you became a doctor, you had to go to the battlefield.
A doctor could be exempted from further deployments after completing the minimum required service.
However, the last time Holden was sent out, it wasn’t to a battlefield — it was during the revolution.
“A revolution…?”
“Yes. We all know how vain the current Emperor has become.”
Holden stayed silent.
His brother and sister had already packed their medical kits and were ready to go.
“Your brother and sister have already joined as medical staff for the revolutionaries.”
“Without even asking me first?!”
“Holden, what do you want to do?”
The choice was his.
“Will you stay home and wait?”
His siblings smiled as if they would understand whatever choice he made.
Holden glared at them for a moment — then took a step forward.
“I’ll go too.”
Crash!
Holden turned his head as a loud clatter echoed through the dim corridor of the palace.
It was late afternoon, but the hallway was cold and unlit.
From a corner not far away, he saw a pair of long legs stretched out.
This area was secured — no enemy soldiers could enter here.
Cautiously approaching, Holden’s eyes widened.
“Are you insane?!”
The soldier sitting there wore armor, biting a handkerchief while wrapping a blood-soaked cloth around their hand.
No matter how tightly they tied it, the blood kept dripping onto the floor.
Holden knelt immediately and grabbed their arm.
“At this rate, your skin will die — you could lose your hand!
I need to treat this now!”
“…Shut up. Mind your own business.”
“Fine, I’ll shut my mouth — just show me your hand first.”
“I said— ngh…!”
“You’re in agony just from me touching you. How could I possibly ignore that?”
Muttering, Holden let out a breath and looked up — and only then noticed.
The “soldier” was a woman.
Her sharp, cold expression had crumbled from the pain.
Holden bit his lip, then stood up.
“Please, wait right here.”
“You’re… not a soldier, are you?”
“No. I’m a doctor. I’ll fetch my tools. Don’t move!”
“Fine. Just… stop yelling. My head’s spinning.”
Holden sprinted down the corridor toward the storage tent — the place where medical supplies were kept.
When he burst in, the other medics looked at him dully.
Ignoring their stares, Holden began hurriedly gathering tools.
“Hey, rich boy. You were told to stay at your assigned station. What are you doing back here?”
“There’s an injured soldier.”
“Rich boy.”
That was what they called him — because his family was well-known.
No matter how capable his siblings were, class prejudice still lingered.
Their mocking eyes seemed to say: you don’t belong here.
One man stepped in front of him and pushed his shoulder.
“You can’t just take supplies. There are procedures! Name the patient!”
“The patient is barely conscious — near death. Get out of my way.”
“I said, there are— ahk!”
“Move!”
Holden stomped on the man’s foot, shoving him aside.
“Lieutenant!”
“You damn rich brat—!”
Holden swept the tools into a bag and shouted:
“Sorry for being rich!”
Ignoring the curses behind him, he ran back through the halls — his thoughts filled only with the wounded woman.
“Ugh… damn…”
Panting, Holden dropped to his knees beside her.
She was still breathing, barely, her face pale and slick with sweat.
He shook her arm gently, patting her cheek.
“Hey, hey! Stay with me!”
“…Ugh… my head…”
Her voice was hoarse and trembling.
Holden touched her cheek, then her forehead.
“You’ve got a fever. You can’t pass out, do you hear me?”
He dumped the contents of his bag and began laying out sterilized tools on a clean cloth.
“…The revolution…”
She murmured faintly.
“It’s still underway. It’s hard to advance with so many soldiers, but no one will come this way.”
“…I see.”
With his gloves on, Holden threaded a needle with shaking hands.
“…Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“Your name… what is it?”
“Holden.”
As soon as the thread passed through the needle, Holden tied a quick knot and grabbed her arm.
When he peeled away the soaked bandage, she groaned in agony.
“Holden… I— ngh!”
“Tell me later. Focus on enduring the pain.”
The wound beneath was deep — possibly from a spear or sword — and badly inflamed.
As he examined it, she grabbed the fallen handkerchief and bit down hard.
I have to save her.
Holden clenched his teeth and began stitching.
The sound of her muffled groans filled the silent corridor.
It went on for what felt like an eternity.
“Ugh…”
“Please, just a little longer.”
Carefully, Holden lifted her in his arms.
Even with all his strength, carrying an adult through the long halls was exhausting.
“Where… are we going?”
“To the infirmary. You’re hurt worse than you realize — don’t move.”
“How would you know…?”
“I may not be famous, but I am a doctor.”
He smiled faintly, though his face was drenched with sweat.
“You can put me down…”
“No.”
“I said it’s fine…”
“And I said no.”
“…You’re so… stubborn.”
Holden chuckled softly at her weak protest.
The lights of the infirmary were finally coming into view.
“Holden…”
“Yes?”
He answered as calmly as he could, though his arms and legs trembled.
“…Thank you… for saving me.”
Holden froze.
He had only done what any doctor should.
But something in her words made his heart stir.
He looked down. She blinked weakly, drowsy from pain and fever.
“It’s only right,” he said quietly. “Saving someone who risks their life for the Empire — it’s the least I can do.”
“…I…”
“I respect people like you — those with true patriotism.”
Holden thought back to his own moment of hesitation — when he had wavered between life and duty.
Now, seeing the fire in her eyes, he smiled.
“You’re remarkable. Blindingly so.”
For someone fighting so hard to live — her light was dazzling.
He prayed silently that the gods wouldn’t take her life.
Soon, her breathing steadied as she fell asleep in his arms.
“Looks like she’s asleep… thank goodness.”
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
Holden turned — and froze.
“Ah…”
It was the Crown Prince.
“So. What is your name?”
“Holden Fay.”
“Fay… Are you with the medical corps?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Holden bowed his head respectfully.
Before him stood the golden-haired, blue-eyed heir of the Empire — the very man his father had spoken of.
‘We hope the Crown Prince will lead the Empire into a new era, Holden.’
The leader of the revolution.
The woman — now sleeping peacefully on a cot — was being watched over by the prince himself.
“Raise your head, Holden.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“You saved my only friend. You have my gratitude.”
Friend?
That meant… that soldier was the Crown Prince’s friend?
Holden blinked in surprise.
The prince noticed and smiled faintly.
“You’ve been standing long enough. You may go now. It’s dangerous here — the medics are evacuating beyond the palace.
Follow my men and you’ll get out safely.”
“I see…”
“Your service will not be forgotten. I know your family — we’ve spoken often.”
“I’ve… heard as much.”
“Smart boy. You take after your parents.”
Holden nodded silently.
The prince looked once more at the sleeping woman — his “friend.”
Holden hesitated, then turned back.
“Your Highness…”
“Yes?”
“May I… ask her name?”
The prince tilted his head, then smiled as he understood.
“Rosen.”
“Rosen…”
Holden muttered the name as he awoke, disoriented.
Sitting up slowly, he rubbed his temples, trying to recall the dream that had felt so vivid.
‘Is there someone you already have feelings for?’
‘…Why?’
‘Just curious.’
The more he thought about it, the clearer the dream became.
He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes widening.
‘No, there isn’t.’
‘…That’s enough for me.’
“Don’t tell me… that’s why I asked that…”
Thump. Thump.
His chest tightened at the thought.
Holden shook his head, trying to dispel it.
“No way.”
“How long are you going to sleep?!”
“Wah!”
The tent flap was thrown open.
His fellow medic looked at him, puzzled.
“What’s with that reaction? Come on, we’re moving supplies.”
“O-oh… right.”
“You look flushed. You sure you’re not running a fever?”
“I’m fine.”
Setting aside his confusion, Holden hurried to help.
He wasn’t waking up for a leisurely day at home — he was on a battlefield again, fulfilling the last of his required service.
As they trekked through the brush with heavy medical crates, one of his comrades called out:
“Hey, Holden!”
He turned around.
Two medics caught up beside him, grinning.
“Did you see? The Grand Duke of Titania in action!”
“Scary as hell, man. Lucky she’s on our side — one mistake and she’d kill us too.”
“You were asleep, huh? Good thing you were on night duty. If you’d seen it — you’d think she was Death’s own daughter.”
“Who’d ever fall for a woman like that?”
“You never know. Maybe she’s all sweet and gentle at home.”
“Sweet? With that towering height?”
They laughed among themselves, but Holden stayed silent.
His expression was calm — except for the faint furrow in his brow.
His pace quickened, unnoticed by the others.
“What do you think, Holden?”
Holden stopped walking.
He looked back at them, eyes sharp, expression cold.
They stared, waiting for an answer.
Holden sighed deeply — then opened his mouth.
“I think…”
