The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 33: “Well, it was me.”

Every time the annual ritual was held in the Temple of the North, prayers were offered to the Goddess Mirath, revered as the divine force capable of driving Khaeren’s beasts back into obscurity and suppressing the curse that haunted the northern lands.

The ritual was not merely ceremonial but was believed to be the sole reason the beasts had not yet overrun the region entirely.

By ancient law, the presence of a member of the Imperial family was mandatory but their rank or title held no significance so long as the noble blood of Elarion are flowing through their veins.

That year, however, the Imperial Crown Prince remained in the Capital, entangled in matters of great political consequence where many of which were directly tied to the execution and outcome of the ritual itself.

Unable to attend in person, he appointed Cael to take his place and represent the Imperial family at the northern temple since Cael was already in the north himself.

Cael did not make the journey alone.

Accompanying him was Alaric as well as Caelius and Soren, both healers tasked with assisting in the sacred proceedings. Yet while Caelius’s status posed no issue, Soren’s existence within the temple walls was a dangerous secret.

As a commoner, he was deemed unworthy by the temple’s doctrine, viewed as filth and forbidden from stepping upon sanctified ground.

For that reason, Soren’s identity was carefully concealed.

"So, it’s final then," Alaric said, seated at the table cluttered with reports and correspondence. His voice was firm, carrying the weight of command. "I’m entrusting matters here to both of you. If anything happens, contact us immediately."

"I understand, brother," Sylas replied without hesitation.

"You can count on us," Lyric added with a confident nod.

"Good." Alaric leaned back slightly. "We leave at dawn tomorrow. Gaspar will be coming with us as well, so if there are any concerns during our absence, rely on the captain of the Imperial Army."

He was referring to Theron, who was already being briefed nearby by Cael himself.

There was a brief pause before Sylas spoke again. "But brother... are you truly certain about taking that commoner with you?"

"Well," Alaric replied calmly, "His Highness has already agreed to it. And aside from that, as you’ve both observed, that commoner’s healing abilities are exceptional."

Lyric frowned, clearly puzzled. "It’s rare for you to acknowledge a commoner like that, brother. What changed?"

"And you even provided him with a luxury tent," Sylas added, cutting in. "That alone is surprising."

Alaric let out a tired sigh. "Don’t read too much into it. If anything, the knights he treated have begun gossiping about us, claiming that I treat him poorly and that I couldn’t even provide him with a comfortable place to sleep."

"Well," Sylas mused, "it’s been almost two months, and he hasn’t complained even once. Does he not feel the cold?"

"That’s exactly what I’m wondering," Alaric replied. "How does he manage to sleep out there when the nights are freezing?"

"I heard he usually sleeps in the wounded area," Lyric said after a moment. "Close to the injured."

Alaric said nothing after that, merely listening as the conversation drifted on as his thoughts lingered elsewhere.

"Hah, let’s leave it at that for now. Anyway, how is the task I gave you going, Sylas?"

Alaric was referring to the man’s family, the very family responsible for orchestrating the beast attacks when they had visited the place where Torin died, a site they considered sacred. The man himself had been convicted of treason with his actions having endangered them especially Cael as the prince.

"Oh, that bastard’s family is already in prison, brother. Their assets have been confiscated, and they’ve been stripped of their titles," Sylas reported.

"Good," Alaric nodded. "And Lyric, go inform that commoner to prepare for tomorrow’s journey. I’ve already notified Lord Rennovar, but since we had to finalize Soren’s attendance, we’re only informing him now."

Sylas glanced at Lyric, who nodded in acknowledgment.

"Understood, brother."

"Alright. You both may go now. I have other matters to attend to."

"Yes, brother. We shall take our leave." Lyric bowed deeply, and Sylas followed silently, bowing as well.

Then Alaric’s gaze lingered on the empty doorway long after they were gone with his mind already racing through the plans that lay ahead. The confiscation of the family’s assets and the careful inclusion of Soren had been delicate matters that missteps about it could sent ripples through the delicate web of politics surrounding the Capital, and of course the House of Davenmore as he was the specific employer of Soren.

Yet he allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction.

Justice had been served, and for once, everything was proceeding according to his meticulous design. The journey in the north would unfold under his careful supervision, and the measures he had taken which both visible and unseen would ensure that the Empire’s will was upheld, even in the distant, unforgiving lands of the North.

A faint wind stirred at the edge of the camp, carrying with it the scent of pine and the faint tang of frost.

A moment after, Alaric’s hand tightened slightly on the reports he still held, as if feeling the weight of every decision he had made and those yet to come.

In the quiet that followed, the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the storm of events the coming days would bring.

Meanwhile, with Sylas heading off to inspect the knights after their scouting mission in the area for potential beast attacks, Lyric made his way toward the healer’s tent where Soren usually stayed.

But upon entering, he immediately noticed the familiar absence.

"O-oh, uhm... are you leaving, My Lord?" one of the nurses stammered, glancing nervously at her colleague. Both of them froze for a moment as Lyric stepped in when his gaze swept over their faces silently, assessing without a word.

"Hmm... do you know where he is?" Lyric asked, keeping his voice calm but authoritative.

"Uhm... who, my lord?" the nurse replied, a bit flustered.

"The healer." Lyric clarified.

The two nurses, busy changing the sheets of the bed inside the tent, exchanged a quick glance and stopped what they were doing.

"Oh, I think I know who you’re looking for, my lord. Is it... Soren?" one finally said, her voice tinged with awe.

"Soren? Ah, yes. Where is he?" Lyric asked, stepping closer.

"He just went there, I think... twenty minutes ago, my lord. To the barracks," the nurse replied, a mixture of admiration and disbelief in her tone.

"Alright, then."

Lyric gave a slight nod and stepped out of the tent, leaving the two nurses to their gossip.

"Soren really is something," one whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Not only did His Highness and His Grace Davenmore take notice of him, but now even the duke’s brother!"

"Right! I’m so envious. They’re all so fond of him, it’s incredible how lucky he is," the other replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

"They even gave him some expensive fur clothes and a luxury tent. It even has a bath, as I heard," the first added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Really? Wow... that’s beyond lucky!"

"Hey, do you think we could ask Soren to let us use his bath? Just once?"

"W-what?! How could you even ask that? Do you want to get cut in half? That bath wasn’t just given to anyone, it was given to him by His Grace himself!"

"R-right... I wasn’t thinking. Oh my... Soren is unbelievably lucky. I wonder how he feels, now that so many important people are paying him attention."

The nurses giggled softly to themselves, their curiosity and envy barely contained, while outside the tent, Lyric’s figure receded toward the barracks, already moving with purpose to find the healer.

To his surprise, even from a distance, Lyric could see Soren smiling brightly, faint as it was. He was talking with three knights, one of whom had his arm draped over Soren’s shoulder but Soren didn’t seem to mind.

"Really? What a shame, I didn’t notice how red your face was," Kent teased, giving Soren’s shoulder a light squeeze.

"I didn’t know Soren was such a lightweight. You didn’t even finish three mugs," Justin added with a laugh.

"That’s what I was thinking too. How could he be drunk from just two mugs?" Louie chimed in.

"Don’t be too harsh. I don’t usually drink, that’s why. I don’t even remember getting to my tent... someone apparently carried me on their back. Though I’m not sure who it was, and I can’t bring myself to ask..." Soren said, scratching his cheek and smiling faintly.

"Well, it was me."

The words froze the three knights where Kent immediately removed his hand from Soren’s shoulder, and all three bowed respectfully.

"Oh, greetings, My Lord," Soren said, bowing in return.

"We greet you, My Lord. How have you been?" Kent asked, bowing again before lifting his head, followed by Louie and Justin.

"I’m good. Now, can you give us some space? I need to speak with him," Lyric said, referring to Soren. The three knights glanced at Soren, who nodded in understanding, and then they quietly left.

Now, only Lyric and Soren remained.

"Uhm... may I ask what you meant when you said ’it’s you, My Lord?" Soren finally asked.