The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 31: “T-then… I’ll be quick,

After waking up, an entire day had already passed.

Soren still felt heavy, his body was sluggish as if it hadn’t quite caught up with reality yet. Once again, it was Cael who had pulled him back from the edge.

Now, Soren stood inside Cael’s tent that had sheltered him. The scent of clean linen and faint herbs lingered in the air as he stood stiffly in front of the seated prince while bowing deeply, his posture rigid with unease.

"Are you hungry?" Cael asked casually. "How about a light meal for breakfast?"

Soren flinched at the question and lifted his head, clearly caught off guard. His brows knit together in confusion before he hurried to answer.

"Uh, oh. I’m fine, Your Highness. I can manage. I can’t keep imposing on you like this. You’ve already helped me more than enough. I’m... truly grateful."

Cael tilted his head slightly from where he sat, one arm resting against the side of the bed. Then, a faint smile curved his lips as his gaze lingered not on Soren’s eyes, but lower, at the faint violet marks still visible along Soren’s neck, remnants of where fingers had once tightened.

"Hm. I see." He hummed softly. "Then how about breakfast with me instead, if you’re really that grateful?"

Soren stiffened instantly.

"H-how could I dare sit at the same table as Your Highness?" he blurted, voice tight. "That would be completely improper."

Cael’s smile widened just a fraction. "What if I insist?"

Soren swallowed, fingers curling at his sides. "But someone as lowly as me doesn’t deserve to occupy the same space of a noble especially not you, Your Highness." He bowed again, deeper this time. "I’m sorry, but I must decline."

For a moment, the tent was quiet then Cael scoffed, amused rather than offended.

"You’re already sleeping in my bed," he said bluntly. "We literally slept together, and now you’re telling me you can’t be in the same space as me?"

Soren’s face heated instantly, his ears burning as he stood frozen, mortified and unsure where to look.

"...That, t-that’s different," he muttered weakly, fully aware of how unconvincing it sounded.

"Doesn’t matter. Come with me," Cael said as he rose to his feet. "We’ll have breakfast outside. The air in here is starting to feel suffocating."

With no room to argue, Soren nodded and followed him without hesitation. The moment they reached the tent’s entrance, however, Cael abruptly stopped.

Soren, walking a step too close, bumped straight into his back.

"Ugh—!" Soren hissed softly, immediately stepping back and bowing. "M-my apologies, Your Highness!"

Cael turned slightly, looking down at him. "Are you hurt?" His gaze lingered on Soren’s face. "Your nose is red."

"No, I’m alright, Your Highness," Soren replied quickly, waving it off despite the sting. "I’m really sorry..."

"That’s enough with the apologies," Cael said, cutting him off then his eyes swept over Soren from head to toe. "Anyway, are you really planning to step outside dressed like that? Can’t you feel how cold it is out there?"

Soren froze, then glanced down at himself.

"O-oh..."

Seeing that, Cael just let out a quiet sigh and covered his face with his palm, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. "Hah. You’re really something."

He dropped his hand and motioned back toward the bed. "Change your clothes first. I’ll wait outside."

"B-but, Your Highness," Soren blurted out without thinking, "it’s cold outside." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Cael arched a brow. "Would you rather have me stay and watch you change?"

Soren’s entire face went hot. "N-no! Th-that’s not what I meant, Your Highness!"

Cael chuckled softly. "Relax. I’m just teasing you." He turned toward the tent opening again. "Go on and change. I’ll wait outside but don’t take too long."

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

"You do realize you’re the only person in this kingdom I’m doing these many favors for, right?"

Soren swallowed hard and bowed quickly. "T-then... I’ll be quick, Your Highness."

Cael stepped outside, leaving Soren standing there, heart racing while still trying to steady himself before doing as he was told.

’How adorable,’ Cael thought with the corner of his mouth lifting as he stepped away from the tent. ’It almost makes me want to devour him whole.’

His grin widened, sharp and unrestrained while his eyes was glinting with interest rather than warmth. Soren wasn’t just amusing but he was tempting as well. The way he flinched and bowed too deeply as well as the way his voice wavered whenever Cael so much as looked at him.

’Hmm...’ Cael let out a quiet breath, reins tightening around his impulse. ’No need to rush things. After all, new entertainment was always best when savored slowly.’

A few minutes later, Soren was taken aback when they entered a spacious tent furnished with a square table already set with food and seated there were the people he least wanted to see: the Davenmores.

Sylas immediately stood, his expression guarded as he looked at Soren.

"Y-Your Highness, greetings. But... why is he here?"

Alaric remained silent, his gaze fixed on Soren as he and Cael approached the table.

Cael merely waved it off. "I can’t send him back to work right after he woke up, can I? He needs to recover. Besides, after all that blood yesterday. And look at his neck, he’s clearly shaken. Don’t be so tight-fisted. Make some room."

With a smirk, Cael gestured for Soren to sit and of all the seats available, it was the one beside Alaric.

Soren kept to himself for the entire meal with his eyes fixed firmly on his plate as if looking anywhere else would invite trouble. He avoided everyone’s gaze, shrinking into the background while the quiet clatter of utensils and low voices pressed in around him.

Time just passed by.

He had even no idea how long he had been seated there, nor did he grasp much of what was being discussed. The conversation felt distant and meaningless, drifting past him while he ate out of habit, each bite sitting uneasily in his stomach.

’At this rate, I’ll make myself sick instead of recovering,’ he thought with restrained frustration. ’I just want to get out of here and return to my duties then I’d rather eat alongside people like me. Anywhere would be better than remaining at this table.’

Lost in his thoughts, Soren failed to notice that Cael, Alaric, Lyric, and Sylas had all turned their attention to him. Despite his quiet detachment, his distant expression had sparked their curiosity.

"What is it?" Cael asked calmly. "Is the food not to your liking?" Soren didn’t respond since he hadn’t even heard the question.

"Hey..." Sylas interjected, leaning forward. Beside him, Alaric set his utensils down and wiped his mouth with a napkin, his gaze never leaving Soren’s unfocused face.

"What’s wrong with him?" Sylas muttered. "Is he still unwell? Or does his neck hurt?" Lyric’s brows drew together in concern, a reaction that didn’t go unnoticed by either Cael or Alaric.

Still, Soren remained lost in his own world.

"Hey!" Sylas suddenly raised his voice.

This time, Soren jolted, flinching hard as his mouth fell open in startled silence with eyes wide and vacant from being pulled abruptly back to the present.

"Uh—oh. My apologies," Soren stammered, startled. "I was j-just—"

"Forget it. It’s fine," Cael cut in easily.

He tilted his head toward Soren, smiling in a way that seemed harmless on the surface. Yet his gaze lingered briefly on Soren’s lips along with a flicker of memory passed through him. The stolen kiss from the night before, taken when Soren had been helplessly unaware.

Alaric, meanwhile, remained silent. His mind churned as he debated whether he should speak to Soren at all. That’s because he now realized that yesterday’s events weighed heavily on him as well and they were things that Soren didn’t know.

And perhaps things he didn’t need to.

Across the table, Lyric and Sylas exchanged a brief glance.

"Hm," Lyric said at last, turning fully toward Soren this time. "Does your neck still hurt?"

Soren shook his head slightly. "No. It’s fine, My Lord."

"Well... if you say so," Lyric replied evenly.

Yet his thoughts betrayed him.

He hadn’t heard a word of thanks from Soren, not even after carrying him back to his tent that night when he’d been drunk, crying while clinging desperately calling Lyric his mother. The memory lingered, awkward and unresolved.

And now, after everything, enduring pain in silence and being strangled until he’d lost consciousness, Soren had somehow become the prince’s source of amusement as well.

Luck wasn’t really by his side at this point and Lyric noticed it.

He understood more than he let on but pride held him back.

And so, despite the concern twisting quietly in his chest, Lyric said nothing more.

After the meal, they went their separate ways.

Alaric returned to his tent to receive a report from his vice commander, Gaspar, covering the progress of the subjugation, any casualties, and the accounts for expenses and inventories. He barely had time to breathe, let alone talk to Soren.

"Haa, seriously. Why am I even thinking about this?" he muttered, leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

Just as he was about to dismiss Gaspar, the vice commander spoke again.

"Your Grace, the healer’s tent is ready. Should I inform him that he will be staying there?"