Chapter 2
The Grand Duke sometimes played such trivial pranks, and knowing this, Ivel shook her head in mild annoyance.
“I fled to avoid the draft.”
Every word Ivel spoke was meticulously calculated. She carefully balanced half-truths with half-lies to ensure her identity remained hidden.
From what she had heard, Victor Bayern was skilled not only in psychological warfare but also in torture. Having served as the head of the national intelligence agency under the previous king, he had undergone extensive training.
Either way, Ivel had decided from the start that it was better to mix a little truth into her statements than to spew out clumsy lies that would accomplish nothing.
“So I came in your stead. Being a military doctor, I was more useful.”
“I see.”
Victor Bayern didn’t comment on her family background. Ivel took his silence as a virtue—he was a man who kept his lips sealed—and looked up at the night sky.
No matter how spring had arrived, the temperature still varied depending on the region. The desolate land grew chilly after sunset, and even a heavily adorned jacket felt precious against the cold.
“What family did you say you were from?”
“Commoners.”
Ivel answered bluntly.
Typically, physicians were from gentry families or minor nobility, so they often carried a family name. But she stubbornly concealed hers. After all, it was better for her that her cursed lineage remained forgotten.
Of course, if the Grand Duke wished, he could quickly discover that her surname, Claren, belonged to a fallen noble family. He would also know she had one son and one daughter and that a second son did not exist.
But she didn’t think he cared enough to look that deeply. Besides… she had to survive first before anyone could uncover anything.
“Do you plan to marry when you return?”
The unexpected question made Ivel’s face contort strangely. The Grand Duke’s expression, however, remained subtle—still calm and impassive, but his jaw was slightly tense.
Startled, Ivel replied defensively, a touch sharply.
“Marriage? In a world where I can barely look after myself?”
“I see.”
“Or rather, would you at least give a generous wedding gift if I did marry?”
“I’ll consider it.”
Victor tossed out the words, half in jest, half in seriousness, a faintly charming smile lifting the corner of his mouth. One might have thought the two were at a ball, judging by the elegance of the smile.
“So survive, Abel.”
“And may Your Grace also return safely.”
From the beginning, she had used the name “Abel”—the name of her twin brother.
Abel and Ivel.
Her parents had chosen the names without much thought. Each time she repeated her name, she recalled how indifferent her parents had been toward her.
Well, that’s why they didn’t notice when I ran away for a week.
Once she had saved enough to leave home, Ivel cut her hair short and headed to the Royal Saint Elbern Medical University. Had she failed the entrance exam, her life would have been ruined—but to her surprise, she passed and graduated, even as valedictorian.
Her family only realized she had run away after she entered the dormitories and sent people to bring her back, but the university, unwilling to lose the only perfect scorer in a competitive field, dismissed their protests that she had assumed her brother’s identity.
I was grateful to that greedy dean… though it led me to this battlefield…
Could she survive here? Ivel smiled wryly at the thought.
Knowing she would die, yet actually facing death, was terrifying in a way she hadn’t expected.
“What will Your Grace do if, by some chance, you return alive?”
“Hmm… I think I’d like to try carpentry. I once asked my mother when I was young, why couldn’t I become a carpenter?”
A Grand Duke of Bayern carrying logs and working as a carpenter. The incongruity made her snicker.
“Marriage and being a good husband wouldn’t be so bad either—taking care of a family… living like everyone else.”
“And then?”
“My nephews left in my estate come to mind. I entrusted them only to their aunt and couldn’t do right by them.”
His expression, once bitter, twisted violently after a glint of light flashed overhead.
“Get down!”
Kaboom!
The deafening roar assaulted the surroundings. Shells rained down in a flash of blinding light.
“Are you alive?”
A large man enveloped her, asking quietly. Ivel responded by coughing up blood.
Bzzzz—
The ringing in her ears pierced her mind, each breath painful as blood poured endlessly from her mouth.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Nothing about the situation was okay. Yet hearing his calm, low voice, she found herself wanting to believe it—wanting to think he was truly fine.
“Grand Duke… Your Grace!”
“You still have the strength to speak. That’s fortunate.”
Ivel, barely able to hold herself upright, grasped her burning throat and lifted her gaze. She remembered the moment he had pulled her to him without hesitation, shielding her from the bombardment. And yet, seeing herself in this state… what could he possibly look like now?
Gasping for air, she glimpsed his broad back, drenched in blood. His usually neat clothing was torn to shreds, flesh mangled, red fragments piercing through his chest and even reaching her.
“You would have avoided it if you were alone.”
“Didn’t I tell you? Losing the only doctor would be a problem.”
His dark eyes met hers calmly, concealing the pain.
“Stop the bleeding… stop it…”
Blood spewed from his mouth. Ivel forced her arm up to aid him.
“Conserve your strength. It’s already too late.”
Damn kings. Damn pride battles. This war had started over one insult from the King of France to the King of Richter.
Cursing under her breath, Ivel pressed firmly against his chest, hoping to delay death’s approach even slightly.
The truth was… she was relying on him. In this place where everyone was losing themselves to blood and madness, Victor Bayern alone seemed from another world.
The angular jaw, the steely eyes, and the quiet voice commanded reverence. But it wasn’t his appearance that made him different—it was his unshakable nature.
Meticulous, restrained, never speaking carelessly or revealing his emotions, he maintained human dignity even as countless others drowned in hatred and blood. He remembered the names of ordinary soldiers, never complained in leaking tents. Ivel had always thought of him as unreal.
Which meant… she hadn’t expected to die like this. She had believed he would survive.
“You must… survive. So this never happens again…”
Another deafening roar shook the air. Then, as if everything had ended, silence fell.
…When she opened her eyes, the ceiling was familiar.
Not the dark, moldy, and blood-scented barracks, but the estate mansion in Bayern where he had grown up.
The ceiling of the study, painted with the Great Saint and angels, caught his attention.
It can’t be… Victor Bayern murmured.
How many had he killed in the war? He should not be here in heaven. Yet the old gardener and servant quarreling outside, the faint scent of peaches drifting in the air—it all felt plausible, almost too real to dismiss.
What about Abel? The other officers?
Confusion overwhelmed him. Placing his thick forearm on his forehead, he realized he was not in his military uniform. The thin muslin shirt he wore was the one he favored in summer.
Too vivid and lasting to be an illusion or a fleeting memory.
