Don’t Tame It [Novel]

18.

Yes, that was the expected reaction. A chorus of pity and sorrow, as if one could not fathom how someone as noble as Diego could be afflicted by such a miserable illness. Going a step further, it was a reaction of cold, creeping fear—the terror that such a cursed disease might claim him.

His parents and siblings felt it most keenly. How could such a lovely youngest son be struck by this malady?

The Queen blamed herself; the King tried to deny the heartbreaking reality. His brothers, while pitying the heavenly curse that burdened Diego, secretly considered it a blessing that the illness was not their own.

From the start, the King and Queen had opposed Diego’s move to the fief. Norte was a land where localized warfare broke out with harrowing frequency. It would have been sufficient to send a representative to govern it.

Nevertheless, Diego stubbornly headed for the frontier. He found their overprotectiveness—the way they treated him like a fragile, precious treasure—suffocating and tiresome.

In the end, unable to break Diego’s resolve, the King sent a trusted knight as his escort: Javier.

And Diego survived. Well, so far, at least.

“What would it matter if they came?”

Diego’s voice carried a bitter edge. To that self-deprecating remark, Javier could only manage a strained, “Your Highness….”

Diego was right. The arrival of the Dean or Professor Figueras would change nothing. It was an incurable disease, devoid of treatment.

“The bleeding seems to have stopped.”

Diego spoke nonchalantly, as if discussing someone else’s affair. His indifferent gaze rested on his finger—or more precisely, on the hand Irene used to grip it.

She had been pressing down on the wound with all her might. She had squeezed so hard that, even beneath the cloth, her own palm had turned deathly pale.

*Pfft.*

A sound like escaping air leaked from between Diego’s teeth.

Only then did Irene’s gaze drop. As he had said, the bleeding had mostly stopped, though only after staining the white cloth entirely crimson.

Irene, having verified several times that the flow had ceased, finally removed her hand. A sharp, tingling sensation swept across Diego’s skin.

Diego quietly clenched and unclenched his fist. The blood had stalled, and his movement remained unrestricted.

Holding the crimson cloth, Irene said in an indifferent voice, “Fortunately, the wound was small, so I was able to stop the bleeding. If it had been deeper, I could not have guaranteed anything. As Your Highness already knows, you must be careful not to suffer any injuries.”

Javier, who had been glaring at Irene with undisguised displeasure, finally snapped.

“Did you tell him to be careful? Who do you think caused this to happen in the first place? See for yourself what the consequences of Miss Rios’s carelessness are!”

Diego raised a hand to stop him. Javier had much more he wanted to say, but he clamped his mouth shut, though his jaw remained tight.

“It is fine. I was the one who was careless.”

“But, Your Highness.”

Javier remained disgruntled, yet Diego shook his head firmly.

Irene finally understood Javier’s hypersensitive reaction. One could not afford to be reckless, no matter how small the cut. One never knew which injury might finally take Diego away.

At that moment, Diego brought his index finger to his lips. He winked playfully, a charming smile gracing his face.

“The fact that I possess a hereditary disease is a secret.”

“Yes.”

Irene nodded, her expression blank. Javier, clearly not trusting her, threatened in a low, menacing tone.

“Only a very small number of people know this. Should Miss Rios carelessly let it slip, you would do best not to expect to wake up tomorrow morning, just as you did this morning.”

“Javier, what kind of rude behavior is that toward a lady?”

Diego reprimanded him, but Javier did not take his eyes off Irene. He seemed determined not to back down without her firm confirmation.

Diego let out a light sigh and soon wore a kind smile.

“I hope Miss Rios understands. My knight is excessively worried.”

Irene did not seem particularly frightened, nor did she appear cowed. From between her lips flowed the same indifferent voice as always.

“You need not worry about that. I have no one to whom I can leak secrets. As you know, there is no one who likes to converse with me. I even go to the bathroom alone.”

“…….”

“…….”

A brief silence hung in the air. Javier furrowed his brows, and Diego raised his eyebrows.

Thinking her explanation might have been insufficient, Irene added one more thing.

“In the books I’ve read, women usually share secret stories in the bathroom; was I wrong? Should it have been the lounge instead of the bathroom?”

“Pfft….”

Diego, burying his face in his palms, shook his shoulders slightly. The crease between Javier’s brows deepened further.

Watching this, Irene closed her mouth. Perhaps she had made another mistake, though she had no idea what it was.

But then.

“Hahaha.”

As if he could no longer hold it back, Diego burst into hearty laughter. Irene did not know why he was laughing.

The sound waves erupting from Diego’s throat seemed to possess a physical force, striking her skin. Irene stood there blankly, like someone caught in a downpour. Only after her whole body felt soaked did she suddenly open her mouth.

“But why does Your Highness personally participate in the war?”

It must have been an unexpected question, or perhaps a tedious one. Diego’s laughter vanished instantly, leaving not even a trace.

“Who knows.”

Picking up a clean cloth from the table to wipe his finger, Diego cast a languid gaze at her. His eyes narrowed as if smiling.

“Because it’s boring?”

“…….”

This time, it was Irene who fell silent. She tried to weigh the correlation between her question and his answer, but no logic surfaced.

Irene wondered if Diego had misheard her. Sometimes, the hairy jellyfish was like that.

As a less-than-evolved cnidarian, he often failed to understand Irene’s words at once.

―Calories… what? No, more than that, why are you suddenly talking about calories while dissecting a corpse?

―I asked if it wouldn’t be better to use the calories consumed at lunch more efficiently.

―Use them efficiently? How?

―It means don’t talk, but move your hands. If you haven’t forgotten that we have to submit the autopsy report before dinner.

―…You sure make it hard to just say ‘shut up and work.’

Pouting, the jellyfish would make notes from a distance on what Irene dictated—the weight and size of organs—only to catch a glimpse inside the corpse’s abdomen and invariably retch, “Ugh.” Irene found being in a group with the jellyfish bothersome, but since he always brought sweet potatoes the day before a lab, she couldn’t refuse.

*Ah, this is not the time to think about the jellyfish.*

Shaking her head slightly to cast off her thoughts, just as Irene parted her lips to add an explanation, Diego spoke first.

“My physician, Sir Miguel Flich, does not know about the hereditary disease either. As you said, I lead the soldiers at the vanguard. The morale of the troops differs between a battle where the commander participates and one where he does not. If I were to hide in the rear for my own safety and shout ‘Advance!’, what soldier would risk his life?”

“…….”

“If the Alvar Kingdom were to find out about my illness, what do you think would happen?”

Irene went silent again. Even without speaking it aloud, they both knew the answer: concentrated fire.

“Since you discovered this fact, whether by coincidence or not, I would like you to become my physician, if possible.”

Muttering low as if to himself, Diego cast a sharp, probing gaze at Irene.

“What do you think?”

Diego’s way with words was skillful, and he had a knack for turning unexpected questions to his advantage. He would use any means necessary to achieve what he wanted, even weaponizing his own weakness.

“Until now, I’ve been lucky and haven’t suffered any injuries, but who can guarantee that will be the case in the future? I would feel at ease if Miss Rios were by my side. That way, I wouldn’t need to spill my secret to others. After all, a secret is only powerful if kept by a few.”

Moreover, Diego was implicitly stimulating Irene’s conscience. After all, the reason she found out the secret was purely due to her own mistake. Though, of course, the responsibility for inducing that mistake lay with Diego.

“…….”

Diego narrowed his eyes, staring at her, testing to see if she had grasped his meaning.

But contrary to his worries, for once, Irene properly interpreted the stakes. It had been her mistake. She had been lucky enough that it stopped there, but if she had been less fortunate, the Dean and the professor would be running over by now with horrified faces.

In the worst-case scenario, if something had happened to Diego, Irene would not have been able to avoid extreme punishment. Even now, he could punish her for injury to a royal if he so desired.

Yet, he did not.

Why?

Why did he repeatedly show favor to Irene?

“What do you say to becoming my physician?”