148. I Should’ve Just Let Him Die

2024.02.25.

He had to endure the sensation like stone, rigid and unmoving, until Yuan Pelliese, her face twisted in distress, spat repeatedly into the nearby basin the poison she had just sucked out.

Jostled and disheveled, Eugene Kimfri trembled as he opened his mouth.

“To another medical corps member—”

“You want to make an appeal while looking like you’re about to die?”

Yuan’s pale fingertips gently pushed against Eugene Kimfri’s scorched shoulder.

He collapsed absurdly easily onto the bed, staring blankly at Yuan.

His fever seemed to rise even higher than before.

With every blink, his consciousness drifted between reality and illusion.

Yuan narrowed her brows, watching the haziness deepen in his fading amber eyes.

The damp strands of hair stuck to his forehead, the pallor shadowing his sharp cheekbones.

Clearly, this was no ordinary condition. Eugene Kimfri, had he been an ordinary man, would have died without it being surprising.

What was a mere duty compared to preserving one’s own life?

Yuan clicked her tongue inwardly and swiftly cut away the bandages wrapped around his upper body.

Even at the grotesque sight of his chest and side torn open diagonally, her expression remained calm.

Even the medical corps who routinely treated wounds had flinched at the sight.

Her skilled hand immediately reached toward the first-aid kit gaping open, spilling its contents.

Outside, the medical corps attempting to prepare surgical anesthetics had shaken their heads and left, unable to stitch Eugene Kimfri’s wounds.

An experienced practitioner might have opted to stabilize the wound temporarily with medication before operating, but such caution did not apply to Yuan.

The sharp surgical needle and the tip of the tweezers touched the candle flame repeatedly before pulling away.

Yuan’s calm eyes soon turned toward Eugene’s gaping wound.

“This, this….”

The injured man’s voice, unable to distinguish dream from reality, urgently stopped her.

“I’ll save you.”

His amber eyes, filled with an unexpectedly composed and steady face, trembled slightly.

***

The medical corps followed Yuan’s instructions without daring to utter a word.

They fetched medicine, gathered herbs under villagers’ guidance—tasks they carried out diligently.

Eugene Kimfri’s condition visibly improved. Though cold sweat still dampened his face, compared to when he first collapsed, he had transformed from a corpse back into a living person.

Two days after surgery.

In that short span, Eugene had to completely overturn his assessment of Yuan Pelliese.

Yuan, who had completed a high-difficulty surgery—feared even by royal physicians—in the blink of an eye, crushed the herbs he had brought along with existing medicines in a mortar and swiftly prepared a dissolvable medicinal concoction.

Not only that, but with seemingly inexhaustible strength despite her frail body, she effortlessly propped up the delirious Eugene and, like a highly skilled nurse, fed the medicine into his mouth and made him swallow.

All this, single-handedly—tasks even seasoned doctors or nurses would find burdensome.

Thus, the medical corps, who had only recently discovered Yuan was from the Pelliese family, hurried to assist her with eyes full of reverence.

Any sense of embarrassment over the role reversal had long been discarded.

Yuan tended to Eugene, herself appearing as if she were the one needing care, even intermittently bleeding from the nose.

Eugene, seeing her like this, could not bring himself to tell her to take care of her own body—she was so utterly absorbed.

Eugene stole a glance at Yuan’s profile as she applied ointment over his healing minor wounds.

Her focused eyes showed fatigue yet depth, and her tightly pressed lips had regained far more color than when he first found her descending the mountain.

Under her delicate jaw, near the collarbone and shoulder, was a mark resembling a fierce bite—his gaze drifted there involuntarily.

Eugene Kimfri’s body suddenly froze.

“Did it hurt?”

Yuan tilted her head, approaching Eugene as she finished applying ointment to the snakebite mark.

The fresh herbal scent and a fragrance he had now grown slightly accustomed to flooded Eugene’s nostrils.

He instinctively held his breath and blurted out a foolish excuse.

“That day. Why did you act alone?”

He felt a sudden urge to strike his own head hard.

But his mouth, once set in motion, refused to stop.

“On the stormy night. Were you truly with His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince?”

Just a span’s distance away.

Yuan’s pitch-black eyes stared directly into his.

The moment he first found her descending the mountain, Eugene had sensed it intuitively.

That Yuan had spent the night with Clade.

The moment he saw her disheveled, slightly torn clothes and the bite mark on her exposed shoulder, he had wrapped his cloak around her.

Up close, there was no doubt.

“I know you have a special relationship with His Highness Bollonico. I don’t know how to process what I saw that day. If your relationship with His Imperial Highness isn’t as bad as people say, then unless I investigate what you’re scheming within the palace right now—”

“I guess I should’ve just let you die.”

At her calm voice, Eugene met her eyes again after briefly looking away.

Her dark eyes, showing no great expectation, remained fixed on him.

“Lord Kimfri. Perhaps you’re still unwell and unable to grasp the situation. Right now, you owe me your life.”

Yuan stepped slightly away from him.

A flicker of bewilderment crossed Eugene Kimfri’s tightly composed face.

“Didn’t you promise to care for me? Strictly speaking, I don’t owe you anything.”

The usual Eugene Kimfri would never speak this way.

He wasn’t the type to nitpick obligations with someone he was naturally bound to protect.

But for some reason, he had been talking far more than usual.

As if completely drawn into Yuan’s orbit.

Yuan stared silently at Eugene’s flushed face, then shoved a thermometer into his mouth before replying.

“I said I’d care for you, not that I’d save you when you were nearly dead.”

As the thermometer-laden man opened his mouth, seemingly about to retort, Yuan’s eyes hardened.

“You do owe me your life. That part is correct.”

Ignoring his flickering gaze, Yuan began tidying the medical tools.

The sharp metallic clinks mingled with Eugene Kimfri’s slightly ragged breathing.

As the cleanup neared its end.

“What….”

The man’s low voice slipped out the moment the thermometer left his mouth.

A man whose temperature was normal but whose ears were still burning asked again.

“What should I give you, then?”

“I’ll use it when I need to.”

With that utterly serious expression, Yuan gave a faint smile and left the room.

Eugene collapsed the posture he had kept so upright, clutching his still-stinging chest and grimacing.

“To use when needed?”

She could have demanded he stop watching her, or treat her more respectfully.

There were dozens of conditions she could have imposed on him.

To use when needed?

What did that even mean?

Eugene Kimfri disliked ambiguity.

But he couldn’t chase after Yuan and demand she clarify exactly how he should repay this debt.

Only now did he reflect on how shamelessly he had interrogated the woman who had saved his life—monitored him all along, then cared for him relentlessly.

He covered his face with both hands and lowered his head.

The flush spreading from his face traveled past his ears down to the nape of his neck.

He had no idea how things had come to this.

***

As soon as Eugene Kimfri recovered, everyone remaining on the island boarded the ship back to the mainland.

Seeing the island grow distant, the soldiers’ morale finally lifted, as if victory had only just dawned on them.

Soldiers, who had subtly watched Eugene’s group due to their royal connections, now openly displayed friendliness, showing off the southern natives’ characteristic boldness.

They had become comrades in a short time.

While Eugene awkwardly responded in kind to their changes,

Tasha, led by Noel, walked to a corner of the deck and approached Yuan with an embarrassed expression.

Yuan, gazing at the receding island in the sea breeze, soon sensed someone’s presence and turned to look at Tasha.

Tasha’s eyes, usually proud and upright, darted uncertainly until Noel gently pushed her forward, prompting her to step closer to Yuan.

Tasha then abruptly lifted her head, meeting Yuan’s steady gaze.

And then she bowed deeply, kneeling on both knees.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I will accept any punishment.”

“T-Tasha, I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

Noel’s teasing whisper made Tasha briefly frown, then relax.

Under normal circumstances, Tasha would have snapped back at such a remark.

Honestly, even if punished, she wouldn’t have regretted slapping Yuan’s cheek that day.

But after witnessing Yuan tirelessly care for Eugene—something that even made the medical corps gasp in awe—she simply couldn’t avoid apologizing.

Tasha then seemed to steel herself, crawling forward on her knees, straightening her back and lifting her face.

Facing Yuan, who merely stared silently, she closed her eyes and spoke.

“I’ll accept summary punishment. You may take tenfold retribution.”

Even if she didn’t regret it, the act of striking Yuan’s cheek still clung uncomfortably to her conscience.

But seeing her like this, Yuan didn’t think Tasha was entirely in the wrong.

She knew her own actions, though the outcome was good, had been difficult to understand in process—and were something that shouldn’t have happened.

Of course, Empress Marilyn would have deemed it insubordination, but to outsiders, wouldn’t the status of eldest daughter of Count Kimfri hold far more value than that of a runaway Crown Princess?

Especially since Yuan carried no royal blood.

Moreover, regardless of status, she understood Tasha’s feelings.

She herself, during the swordsmanship tournament, had vowed that if Bollonico had injured Clade, she would drive her blade straight into his heart.

If she had believed Eugene’s worsening condition was due to Yuan, she could fully understand Tasha’s actions.

Unable to endure the brief silence, Tasha thrust her flushed face forward even more, hands clasped behind her back, eyes tightly shut.

“Hit me until your anger subsides.”

It was a resolute attitude, truly befitting a member of the Kimfri noble house.