The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 40: TChapter You’re no fun.”

When they finally reached Soren’s room, Soren truly believed that this would be the end of it and that after everything, they would leave him be.

He had already reassured them more than once that he was fine, that he didn’t feel any lingering pain at all, and that there was no need for further concern. His body felt light, almost numb, and to him, that was proof enough.

After bowing politely and offering his excuses, Soren turned toward the door, fingers brushing the handle as he prepared to step inside. He expected to hear their footsteps retreat down the corridor but instead, silence followed.

Soren hesitated, then slowly turned back.

And when he did, Cael, Alaric, and Caelius were still standing there.

Their expressions remained calm and controlled, giving nothing away yet their eyes held clear disbelief, as though they couldn’t quite accept what they were seeing.

"Uhm, then..." Soren spoke again. "I’ll excuse myself. Sorry for inconveniencing all of you. I humbly apologize for taking your precious time..."

He bowed once more, deeper than before.

When he lifted his head, they still hadn’t moved.

Their eyes had lowered not to his face, but to his robe.

The pristine white fabric, once immaculate, was now stained with dark crimson.

Thin streaks of blood marred the gold-lined patterns, remnants of the nosebleed that had spilled earlier and the blood he had coughed up without realizing how much had soaked in. Against the white cloth, it looked disturbingly vivid.

Soren followed their line of sight belatedly, blinking in mild confusion, unaware of how dire he appeared from the outside.

Yet the three of them continued to stare, silent and unmoving because no matter how calmly Soren spoke, no one who looked like that could possibly be fine.

"Aren’t you really feeling any discomfort?" Cael asked, his brows knitting together as he stared straight into Soren’s eyes, searching for even the slightest crack in his composure.

"Ah... yes, Your Highness. I’m really fine," Soren replied after swallowing hard.

His voice was steady, yet his heart thudded violently against his ribs. He didn’t know what answer they were expecting. Pain was something he should be feeling but no matter how he reached for it, there was only a strange emptiness, as if his body had decided to stop responding altogether.

"Are you sure?" Alaric stepped forward, arms crossing tightly over his chest, his expression darkening. "You’re pale enough to collapse at any moment. You were starved, beaten, and nearly sexually assaulted and you’re telling us you’re fine? Who exactly are you trying to fool here?"

The words lingered between them. Cael glanced at Alaric, his jaw tightening while Caelius stayed silent, his sharp gaze fixed on Soren.

"O-oh..." Soren murmured softly.

Only then did it dawn on him how alarming his condition must appear to others. To him, this hollow calm was familiar. He had long learned to ignore pain, to push aside both physical injuries and emotional wounds until they faded into background noise.

Because of that, he didn’t know how someone was supposed to react in moments like this.

Caelius narrowed his eyes slightly, something thoughtful and uneasy flickering across his face.

’Is he numb,’ he wondered, ’or does he not feel any pain at all?

At that, the prince and the duke exchanged a brief glance with unspoken concern passing between them as they realized that Soren’s calm might be far more troubling than any scream of pain.

As their silence stretched, Soren hurriedly searched for an excuse.

"I’m really alright, Your Highness, Your Grace," he said quickly. "I healed myself a while ago, and as you can see, I’m quite capable of handling injuries like these. It truly doesn’t warrant your concern. I’m sorry."

"You’re saying you healed yourself," Cael replied, "but there’s no way you feel no emotional discomfort at all." As he spoke, he walked into the room, forcing Soren to step back while Caelius quietly closed the door behind them.

"It’s really not a big deal, Your Highness. Besides, you and Your Grace saved me before anything went too far. I’m truly grateful, thank you." Soren offered a faint smile, awkwardly lifting his hands as if to wave the matter away. "With that, I’ll do my best not to trouble you any longer."

Caelius remained silent.

"Hm. Anyway," Cael continued, leaning against the wall near the door with his arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips, "aren’t you curious about what happened to the ones who almost raped you?"

Alaric glanced at Cael, then back at Soren. Yet Soren’s expression showed no fear and shock at the possibility that those men might already be dead.

With how the conversations drag on, Soren eventually feel uncomfortable and Caelius himself notice that but since it was a duke and a prince they are talking and Caelius himself was just from an earldom, Caelius couldn’t really do anything but to listen further.

"Well, aren’t you going to ask?" Cael smirk again as if he really didn’t worry just a while ago.

"O-oh... uhm, not really, Your Highness," Soren answered, slowly moving his fidgeting hands behind his back. "I only wish that they’ll be punished."

At that moment, he felt like a rabbit trapped in a corner, surrounded by tigers with no way out. Every gaze pressed down on him, sharp and suffocating.

He wished they would just leave but how could he possibly say that?

’I wish I’d just faint instead of listening to this,’ Soren thought. ’This feels like an interrogation. I hate it. I hate this. Please... just leave. Please.’

His head dipped, his vision blurring at the edges, and their voices slowly faded from his awareness as the discomfort became too much to bear.

"Well then, what kind of punishment are you thinking of?" Cael asked, stepping closer with a smirk, his gaze fixed on Soren as he passed Alaric.

While Caelius stayed out of the exchange, unwilling to take sides. Still, he noticed the subtle signs such\ as Soren’s stiff posture and his lowered gaze.

Even without words, it was clear Soren was uncomfortable.

"Your Highness," Soren said quietly, lifting his head only briefly, "I have no right to decide that. I may be the victim, but I have no power to punish anyone." He looked down again, feeling suffocated and exhausted, wishing only for rest.

"Right," Cael replied with a smirk. "I’m glad you know your place."

He reached out and patted Soren’s head, making Caelius tense while Alaric watched in silence, unsure when to step in.

"Don’t worry about that man," Cael continued. "How dare he do such a disgusting thing in the temple? If he truly wanted you, he would’ve dragged you somewhere else. Well, it’s his loss."

Soren kept his eyes lowered, fully aware that Cael was provoking him. After all, it wasn’t the first time someone had taunted him with such filthy words.

"That’s right, Your Highness," Soren said softly. "I apologize for such a filthy display before you."

Cael stepped back, frowning. "Tch. You’re no fun."

With that, Cael suddenly lost interest so he turned away and shrugged. "Well, rest here as long as you like. Have your lunch here too. Who knows, maybe someone out there still has plans for you."

He walked toward the door, and Caelius instinctively opened it. Just before stepping out, Cael muttered, "Why would anyone even be interested in you? You’re such an... interesting, yet boring person."

Even after hearing that, Soren still bowed, though no one was really looking at him. "Have a nice day, Your Highness, Your Grace... and you as well, Lord Rennovar."

Before completely stepping out and closing the door, Alaric glanced at Soren’s bowed figure one last time, but didn’t think much of it.

"Hah... what a peculiar commoner," he muttered, then followed the prince’s tail.

The next morning, Thalric knelt before the High Priest, battered and bloodied from the previous day’s ordeal.

"So... how did it come to this, son?" the High Priest’s voice rumbled, eyes narrowing as he looked down at Thalric. "Yes, I told you to do your best when I take you in, you good-for-nothing man but why is that bald bastard dead?"

Despite the reverent robes and the aura of holiness he projected in public, the High Priest’s presence here was raw, aggressive, and vulgar, a far cry from the serene figure seen in the sacred hall.

"Y-Your Holiness, I ask for your forgiveness," Thalric stammered, trembling beneath the weight of the priest’s gaze.

"Hmm," the High Priest hummed, leaning back slightly. "When have I ever not forgiven you?"

Thalric flinched at the words.

"I... I am grateful, Your Holiness. Please grant me another chance. I did exactly as his Excellency instructed," he said, referring to the bald priest. "However... the healer his Excellency sought had strong backing. It was His Highness, the youngest prince, and the Duke of Davenmore. You may have already heard, but it was they who rescued the healer."

The High Priest rose from his seat, his long fingers brushing thoughtfully over his beard.

"What a shame," he murmured. "That healer... was quite capable. And yet, he caused my disciple’s death. Hmm... how should I deal with this?" 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

His words filled the room, and Thalric knelt there, his body tense with fear, waiting for judgment.