The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 49: “My lord, are you inside?”

"Do you have something to say to me, my lord?"

After grabbing Soren and leading him into his own tent, Lyric did not say anything.

Instead, a long, awkward silence filled the space.

He was irritated, though he did not know why and even though he wanted to say something, the words refused to come. And now, several minutes passed like that, making the situation uncomfortable for both of them.

All Lyric knew was that he owed Soren something.

Soren had helped him overcome the pain and misery caused by the cursed wound. Yet instead of showing gratitude, Lyric had humiliated and discriminated against him, he had even thrown a dagger at him and hurt him, or so he had been told.

He wanted, at the very least, to apologize and thank him, but his pride would not allow it.

He still hated Soren and saw him as nothing more than a commoner who had yet to reveal his true, ambitious nature.

And yet, deep within him, Lyric truly wanted to show his gratitude. Every time he tried, however, the incident involving Torin crept back into his mind, stirring irritation and distance, feelings he did his best not to show to Soren.

Deep inside his mind, Lyric saw how diligent and submissive Soren was, so much so that it felt excessive and to the point where Lyric thought of him as pathetic. He saw Soren as someone who constantly kissed up to those above him.

Yet Lyric knew, deep down, that Soren was not like that, even if he could not stop himself from thinking it.

Lyric also knew that he was being pathetic, generalizing every commoner as the same because of a single incident, even though they were not. He knew he was wrong, especially when he saw how Soren, despite being stared at and looked down upon, remained composed and never once complained to his superiors.

’How idiotic of me. How could he complain to us when we are the ones making things difficult for him?’ Lyric sighed, glanced at Soren, and scratched the back of his neck.

"You’re acting odd, my lord. Did you bring me here because you’re not feeling well? Are you experiencing some discomfort?" Soren asked.

Hearing that, Lyric snapped and frowned.

"Why are you always like this? Don’t you have something to say to me?"

Soren averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at Lyric. "My apologies, my lord, but I don’t understand what you mean..."

"God, come on. Don’t you remember how I hurt you last night?" Lyric snapped. His hand lifted, then fell back to his side, fingers flexing as if he didn’t know what to do with them. "Why aren’t you complaining to me? You should at least ask for compensation."

Soren’s eyes widened for a brief second before he lowered them. He stood still, shoulders straight with his hands clasped neatly in front of him. The pause stretched long enough to be uncomfortable.

"It’s not a big deal, my lord," he said at last. His tone was steady and practiced. "I was only doing my job."

The tent seemed smaller after that as Lyric’s jaw tightened.

Then, he took a step closer, then caught himself and stopped short. "Not a big deal?" His voice dropped. "You were bleeding because of me."

Soren glanced down at his hands, his thumb brushing over his knuckles as if checking for something that was no longer there. "I’m a healer, my lord," he replied quietly. "This happens."

Hearing him say that without even a glimpse of hesitation in his eyes, silence followed.

Lyric opened his mouth, then closed it again as the words he had meant to say never came. Soren remained where he was as calm, respectful, and distant while Lyric stood there, unsettled, with nothing left to do but stare.

Lyric had never met someone so stubborn nor had he met someone who treated pain and humiliation as nothing more than a normal part of life and that, more than anything, unsettled him.

’How did this even turn out like this?’ he thought. ’I was just going to say I was grateful...’

The thought faltered, irritation creeping in. ’And yet, why do I even want to say it to him? He said it himself. He’s just our household’s healer. So why...’

Lyric turned back.

Soren was still standing where he had been left, posture straight and hands folded neatly in front of him, eyes lowered in quiet patience. He did not ask what Lyric wanted. He did not complain about being dragged into a noble’s tent without explanation and he did not even show confusion, though it was clear he had every reason to.

That silence and his acceptance of it only made Lyric’s chest tighten further.

"My lord, would you like to take a seat first?" Soren said gently. "You’re sweating, and you look pale. Please allow me to heal you."

Without really thinking, Lyric followed the suggestion. He lowered himself onto the chair beside the table, letting out a slow sigh with his unfocused gaze. His thoughts were tangled, too loud for him to make sense of anything else.

A moment later—

"Excuse me, my lord."

Soren stepped closer and stopped in front of him. He then raised both palms, and a soft, golden light bloomed between them. That was when Lyric finally lifted his head and looked at him.

Soren, however, did not meet his gaze. His eyes remained at nothing, expression calm and professional as if looking back would be improper, as if someone of his status was not allowed such familiarity.

"Soren, right?"

At the sound of his name, Soren abruptly stopped channeling his healing. The golden light faded between his palms as he straightened at once, turning to face Lyric with practiced respect.

’What... this is the first time the young lord has called me by name. Did I do something wrong?’

He stepped back slightly and bowed. "Yes, my lord. Did I perhaps do something to offend you?" Soren asked, the question coming out a little stiff. He then lifted his gaze afterward, uncertain and found Lyric leaning back in his chair, releasing a tired sigh.

"Well," Lyric began, then stopped.

He leaned forward instead, eyes shifting away as his hand went to the back of his neck. "I just wanted to thank you for... you know... last night. And to apologize. I wasn’t myself, and I ended up hurting you."

Soren stiffened, his brows knitting together. "It’s not really a—"

"Of course it is!" Lyric cut in too quickly as he stood up. "It is a big deal. What would people say if I didn’t show gratitude to someone who saved my life?"

’He’s exaggerating,’ Soren thought, staring at him. ’I only did my job. Nothing more.’

Soren’s confusion must have shown because Lyric exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair.

"Right... you probably think I’m acting strange," he muttered. "And well, I also wanted to apologize for how I treated you when we first met. When I was violent toward you and your friend. And when I—"

He stopped mid-sentence and turned away.

"When I kissed you without warning?" Lyric said slowly. "Yes... I was quite rude then." He paused, then added quietly, "And... I was the one who carried you back to your mini tent when you were drunk. It was me. I just wanted you to know."

Lyric babbled on with words tumbling out in a rush while Soren listened quietly.

’Why is he telling me all this now?’ Soren thought, frowning slightly. ’Is this my last day? Am I going to be punished just for letting a noble inconvenience himself by carrying me... and for letting him thank and apologize to me?’

For the first time, Lyric caught the slightest flicker of expression on Soren’s face, an almost imperceptible mix of disbelief and calculation. It was the most expressive look he had ever seen from him.

For a moment, he remained lost in thought, his gaze distant, unconsciously shaping his features into a mask that seemed to ignore Lyric entirely even as he continued to speak.

"Oh... I didn’t mean for you to overthink things. I just wanted to... tell you those things, really. Nothing else. That’s all there is to it," Lyric said, fidgeting with his hands, avoiding Soren’s gaze.

"My lord..." Soren’s voice was soft, hesitant, unsure.

"Yes? What is it?" Lyric asked, leaning slightly forward, a little too eager.

"Thank you... for shamelessly letting you carry someone as lowly as me back that night," Soren said, his words careful and measured. "I... I was so drunk. I know you hate contact, yet I was being shameless. I should’ve... behaved better. I’m sorry." He lowered his gaze, fingers twisting together nervously.

"Wait, it was me. I didn’t mind," Lyric said, exasperated while scratching the back of his neck. "Why are you apologizing?"

"You don’t have to lie, my lord. I know you’re disgusted that I’m a commoner. I... I promise it won’t happen again." Soren’s voice trembled slightly, his eyes dropping again.

"I’m telling you, it’s not your fault!" Lyric exclaimed, waving his hands as if to sweep away the tension. "I carried you. Why aren’t you listening?"

’Why is he so damn stubborn? I can’t get through his head!’ Lyric thought, tugging at his hair in frustration. He was about to continue when a knock at the tent flap interrupted him.

"My lord, are you inside?" 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"Ah... yes. Come in," Lyric replied, quickly smoothing his expression.

It was Gaspar.

"What’s wrong?" Lyric asked, returning to his usual demeanor. His gaze flicked to Soren, who had bowed and stepped back into a corner, still standing but not leaving.

"His grace has summoned you, my lord. We have to hurry back," Gaspar said.