Chapter 43
Hugo scrubbed at my face as if annoyed by the rain, then looked ahead again.
But the infuriatingly handsome doctor who had been steering the pirate ship was nowhere to be seen.
“What? Did I see wrong?”
“My lord! This is not the time for that! Arm yourself and give the order to fight!”
Snapping back to his senses, Hugo looked toward the pirate ship closing in. From a distance, he hadn’t realized it was this huge.
Alongside the merchant vessel Hugo was aboard, two navy escort ships accompanied them. But even if all three ships joined forces, they couldn’t compare to that pirate ship. On top of that, the pirate ship had cannons mounted on all sides.
“This is insane.”
Hugo was aghast. How could pirates possibly be sailing a fleet more advanced than the navy’s?
“Run! Avoid combat!”
At Hugo’s command, they tried to put as much distance as possible. Smaller ships were generally faster. The three ships began turning sharply to starboard, fleeing at full speed as soon as the retreat order came.
“What the hell?”
The pirate ship, despite its size, was chasing at an impossible speed.
“We have to prepare for battle, my lord!”
“What on earth is that thing?!”
By the time Hugo shouted, the crews of the navy ships and the merchant ship were already switching to combat readiness.
Then it happened—
—Boom! Rumble! Bang!
Lightning began crashing down like madness.
“Throw overboard anything metal!”
The sailors all yelled at once. In this situation, holding a gun would mean getting struck by lightning.
—Crash!
A bolt struck one of the cannons mounted on the ship.
—Thud! Boom! Boom-boom!
To make matters worse, the pirate ship had closed in and begun firing its cannons.
“Ah! Watch out!”
It was strange—despite the constant lightning, the pirate ship suffered no damage at all. Only the two navy ships were being torn apart.
How much time passed like that?
After about thirty minutes of complete chaos—
Click.
“Everyone, get to the lifeboats. Do that, and I’ll spare your lives.”
A man who seemed to be the pirate captain pointed a gun at Hugo’s head.
“P-please spare me!”
Trembling in terror, Hugo looked at the pirate captain. Then, catching sight of a man with blood-red eyes, his expression froze.
“D-doctor?”
“Do I look like a doctor to you?”
Oddly enough, the man’s hair was white, unlike Rainier’s usual color.
But the voice was Rainier’s.
“Are you going to keep spouting nonsense, or do you want to die? Choose.”
Hugo was certain.
That same crushing pressure he always felt from the doctor—as if he were prey being hunted—was here again.
Hair color or not, that was definitely Rainier.
“Hhhhk…”
Still, Hugo valued his life above all. His men were already surrounded by pirates, kneeling on the deck with gun barrels to their heads.
He had no choice but to head for the lifeboats.
And so, every sailor on the merchant vessel, including the navy crew, was moved to the lifeboats—without a single casualty.
Strangely, as soon as the pirate ship vanished, the weather cleared.
Soon after, even a rescue ship arrived—it was all bizarre.
Thus, Hugo had to return to the capital, all goods plundered.
Even the cargo he’d spent Siver’s dowry money on… gone to the pirates.
“Rain?”
Layla’s eyes widened when Rainier appeared in her room again.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
After taking her to Siver’s room earlier, he’d vanished—only to reappear just seven hours later.
“And why have you been crying?”
From her attire, he could tell she’d been about to go to bed. She was only wearing a negligee.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“…Then why am I here?”
“I don’t know.”
Layla looked at him, just as flustered—especially at his current outfit.
“Rain, what are you wearing? Weren’t you a doctor?”
“…I have my reasons.”
His outfit looked somewhat like a uniform, but disheveled—free-spirited yet still trying to show authority.
Layla thought he looked almost like a pirate.
She stared at him, puzzled.
“What kind of reasons?”
“Reasons to do with our business.”
“Our business? Oh—how’s that going?”
“Very well.”
Rainier sighed, stepping toward her before stopping. He was soaked from the rain.
Noticing this, Layla let out a small laugh and reached for the dry cloth she always kept by the bed. The initials embroidered on it reminded her this was Siver’s room.
She hesitated—was it okay for her to dry him herself? He always seemed to be both warm toward her yet holding her at arm’s length.
Rainier, noticing her hesitation, spoke curtly.
“What are you doing? I’m soaked—aren’t you going to dry me?”
“…Ha.”
“What if I catch a cold like this?”
“What does it matter to me if you catch a cold?”
Despite saying that, she rose on tiptoe and wrapped the dry cloth over his head. Since he’d bent slightly, reaching his hair wasn’t difficult.
“How can it not matter? If I get sick, you’ll be sick too.”
“I’m sick every day.”
“That can’t be. You haven’t been ill lately, have you?”
She flinched when he suddenly looked her straight in the eye. Drying his hair had brought their faces so close their noses almost touched.
“Where does it hurt?”
“…What?”
“I asked where it hurts.”
His unblinking gaze made her uneasy. Whenever she looked into his eyes, she was reminded of how handsome he was.
He really was beautiful—even in this roguish state.
The raindrops clinging to his hair and lashes glimmered under the chandelier’s light, as if a sculpture had been rained upon.
“My lady.”
His voice snapped her back to herself.
“Could you back up a bit?”
“…I asked where it hurts.”
For a moment, she saw the corners of his eyes soften, and before she knew it, she blurted out—
“My heart hurts… because you’re too close.”
“….”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Kidding.”
“Don’t joke about being hurt.”
He looked away, though he didn’t pull away from her touch.
“What? Have you grown sympathetic from taking care of me?”
“Seems you’re not sympathetic toward me. Kicked out of the palace as a child, hiding away like this… and now working as a doctor on the side.”
“You said you came here to get revenge on Hugo.”
“Yes. Though I wouldn’t mind if a bolt of lightning took out the entire Count Ronald household by ‘accident.’”
Layla silently studied him. What had flustered him now?
“I guess not, then. Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“Just finish drying my hair. I’m freezing to death here.”
“You’re warmer than me.”
“Ah, I’m cold. Cough, cough.”
“Who coughs like that?”
“Everyone has their own way of coughing.”
His ridiculous fake cough made her chuckle despite herself. She resumed drying his hair.
“You’re soaked all over. You should bathe.”
“What if you start crying again while I’m bathing?”
“Then what?”
“Then you’d have to take responsibility after seeing my body.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Sure it does. I’m pure, you know. And modest, too. No woman has ever laid a hand on me—I’m pristine, my lady.”
Layla wondered what on earth he was talking about.
For someone claiming purity, his body was far from delicate—broad chest, hard abs beneath his wet shirt.
And dressed like a pirate right now.
With that face and that outfit, she thought he’d be more likely to kidnap a bride than act “modest.”
“I haven’t seen anything yet.”
“I saw you looking plenty.”
“Only your chest. And through your shirt at that.”
“And your thoughts?”
She wondered if he was flustered—was that why he’d been talking nonsense all this time?
Now that she thought about it, his face and ears were flushed red. She hadn’t noticed because of the intense red of his eyes.
“I… do want to touch it.”
“Would you like to?”
“What happened to the modest man from a moment ago?”
“I’m modestly asking if you’d like to touch.”
She laughed. The contradiction was absurd.
“I won’t cry, so go bathe. Seems like you show up whenever I’m startled.”
She said it, recalling the moment just before he appeared.
“Why were you startled?”
He reached out a wet hand toward her, then stopped—his gaze landing on a neatly folded piece of paper on her bed.
It was the card originally tucked into the misty-flower bouquet Sonnet had given her. She’d drunkenly stuffed it into her pocket and had only just read it.
“You going to tell me?”
“Information exchange is important between double agents. Builds trust.”
She didn’t mind telling him, so she smiled at his smooth words, picked up the paper, and unfolded it in front of him.
Rainier’s expression hardened instantly.
It read:
Layla, if I hand you this as a letter when we meet, it’s because I’m too shy.
You’re so beautiful that every time we talk, I forget the words I prepared.
Please forgive this foolish me.At our engagement ceremony, we’ll kiss in front of everyone as a vow.
I want to practice in advance so I don’t mess it up.
I’ll come tomorrow—could we practice just once, even if you’re not feeling well?
“You don’t actually believe this load of crap, do you?”
Rainier was smiling, but his fists were clenched tight.
