The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 58: “Oh, is that it?”

And so, the boxes contained thick woolen blankets, assorted teas, winter boots, fine gloves, wool-lined cloaks, and small pouches of dried herbs and salves. There was even a finely crafted fountain pen, accompanied by a small note that read, "In case you wish to write to someone."

Yet what caught Soren’s attention the most was a brown leather pouch heavy with gold.

’There’s even gold... This is far too much,’ he thought quietly.

While Soren was completely absorbed in examining the gifts, Sylas and Lyric were engaged elsewhere, locked in a heated confrontation.

"How dare you get close to that commoner!" Sylas roared, his fist slamming into Lyric’s face. "What has he done to you for you to act like such an idiot, Lyric?!"

Lyric staggered but remained standing. He then wiped the blood from his lip, a bruise already blooming across his cheek, and glared back at Sylas.

"You should stop, Sylas. Believe me, I didn’t think much of him either at first but your perspective might change once you actually know him."

"Enough!" Sylas shouted. "How dare you say that to me? Have you already forgotten what commoners did to our family?!"

He struck Lyric again. This time, Lyric didn’t resist. He accepted the blow in silence, understanding all too well where Sylas’s anger came from.

"...Brother," Lyric said softly, lifting his gaze. "Soren is different."

"Hah." Sylas scowled as he grabbed Lyric by the collar. "Don’t feed me that bullshit. Do you even remember why our parents died, hm? I can barely recall their faces anymore because we were too young back then. And now you’re siding with him?"

With a violent shove, Sylas threw Lyric to the ground. A decorative vase inside the tent toppled and shattered with porcelain cracking loudly against the floor.

Outside, the knights merely shook their heads. When it came to the twins’ fights, none of them dared to interfere.

"Ugh... Brother," Lyric groaned, pushing himself up slightly. "I’m telling you, you should at least try to get to know him better. He’s different."

"Commoners are all the same," Sylas snapped. "Whether you accept it or not."

Sylas flinched when Lyric spoke again.

"Brother Torin was a commoner too," Lyric said quietly. "Don’t you remember?"

Lyric sighed as he brushed the dust from his clothes. The moment he lifted his gaze, Sylas’s fist came flying toward him.

"You, how dare you compare Brother Torin to that wretch!" Sylas roared.

"Ugh, let go! But isn’t it true?" Lyric protested. "Brother Torin was also a commoner..."

Sylas slammed him back to the ground and climbed atop him, hands closing around Lyric’s throat. "I don’t understand you," he snarled. "You were never like this. What nonsense are you spouting now? What changed you?"

His grip loosened as Sylas rose to his feet while rubbing his temple before looking down at Lyric, who lay there with a bloodied lip and a deep frown.

"...Is this because of what you saw?" Sylas continued coldly. "The way His Highness treated that commoner with kindness?"

A cruel smirk tugged at his lips.

"Oh, is that it?" he scoffed. "Brother, do you really think His Highness cares about someone like him? He’s just toying with him. So why are you acting like this?"

"Brother, I don’t care how His Highness treats him," Lyric said hoarsely. "But I want to be kind to him. He saved my life, don’t you remember?"

"Spare me," Sylas snapped. "Of course he saved you. It’s his job. Do you think he did it out of kindness? We paid him handsomely enough that he wouldn’t starve for a year even if he never worked again."

"It’s different!" Lyric insisted. "I want to show him my gratitude. And don’t forget, he saved our brother’s life as well!"

"You’re a fool, Lyric." Sylas let out a bitter laugh. "I don’t understand you anymore. He’s nothing more than a substitute healer. Hah... forget it. Get out. I don’t want to see you or speak to you for a while."

"W–wait, what? Why are you so worked up? I’m just saying, at lea—"

"Guards!"

At Sylas’s shout, Lyric froze while frowning as he stared at his brother’s rigid back. Sylas stood, already turned away from him.

"Remove him."

Without another word, Sylas’s guards entered the tent and escorted Lyric outside.

When Sylas was finally left alone, he looked down at his bloodied fist and slowly clenched it.

’Damn it... did I go too far?’

He shut his eyes, jaw tightening. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

’Shit. I lost my composure.’ he thought while recalling Lyric’s bruised face.

Meanwhile, back in the capital, at the Solven estate, Lord Azric Solven as patriarch of the household was seething. Documents littered the floor around him as he panted, fists clenched on the edge of the table while his eyes are blazing with fury.

"That bastard! How dare he humiliate me like this!" Azric shouted, his voice echoing off the walls while directed more at the universe than anyone in particular.

When the letter had arrived, it had stated that Arctelle would be sent back to the household and naturally, it explained the reason as well.

"M-My lord... please, calm yourself," the butler urged while raising both hands in a placating gesture.

"How can I calm down?!" Azric snapped, shoving the remaining documents off the table in a dramatic cascade that made the butler flinch. "I specifically told that brat to behave! And now... look at what he’s done!"

’Oh my... Young Master, what did you do this time?’ the butler thought while watching Azric run a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Butler," Azric said, his voice tightening. "Look into this Soren person for me. I need to know exactly what kind of man would warrant my son receiving such a punishment. And when that brat Arctelle arrives, have him sent directly to my study."

"I understand, my lord," the butler replied, bowing deeply. "I shall do my utmost to see to it."

A similar situation was unfolding at the Vensworth estate, though in that case, Irlian was not being sent home.