The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 74: “Badump… badump…”

After pulling Soren out of the water, it was obvious that he was unconscious.

They dragged him farther onto solid ground, and another knight quickly stepped in, placing Cael’s robe back over his shoulders to protect him from the cold and Cael barely noticed as his eyes never left Soren.

A few steps away, Alaric stood still with his mind in chaos. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing because Cael, who had always lived for his own pleasure and someone who had never cared for anyone except Torin in the past was kneeling in the snowy mud, desperately trying to save a commoner’s life.

Soren wasn’t breathing.

Without stopping to think, Cael bent down and pressed his lips to Soren’s while forcing air into his lungs letting the closeness didn’t bother him in the slightest. Rank, pride, and status meant nothing now. Even as his body shook from the cold, Cael kept going while breathing for Soren again and again, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

And that made the knights watching them exchanged uneasy looks along with low whispers spread between them because what they are witnessing wasn’t the prince they knew. There was something different and something new in the way Cael held Soren.

"Come on... come on... breathe," Cael whispered, his voice tight and trembling.

Not too far away, Alaric just watched with his jaw clenched.

Too many emotions twisted inside him at once like confusion, irritation, anger and fear.

He didn’t know why his chest felt so heavy, or why the sight of Cael like this unsettled him so deeply. All he knew was that something had changed, and he had no idea what it would mean if Soren didn’t wake up.

Alaric had always been clear with himself about what Soren was to him.

Nothing more than a commoner and a healer.

At times, even a nuisance and someone who stayed quiet, did as he was told, and kept to the corners unless he was needed.

To Alaric, Soren had never been someone worth paying attention to.

He saw him as a substitute healer, easily replaceable and the kind of person who could disappear and be filled in by someone else without anyone truly noticing. He’s someone dispensable.

That was the word Alaric had always used in his mind because it made things simple and because it made Soren easier to ignore.

Soren was nothing more than that.

At least, that was what Alaric had convinced himself of.

Soren’s purpose was clear and limited such as healing wounds for the Davenmore household, and now serving as a tool for purification, another method to kill beasts when blades failed. Beyond that, Soren had no place and value in Alaric’s world.

And Alaric had been careful to keep it that way, drawing firm boundaries and never allowing himself to see anything beyond Soren’s usefulness.

Or so he thought.

But now, watching Soren lying there while barely clinging to life after being thrown into the freezing water, something inside Alaric twisted painfully. The sight dragged up memories he hadn’t touched in years.

Specifically, memories of Torin, one of the most important people he had ever lost.

Yet Soren was nothing like Torin.

Torin had fought to live. He had struggled, pleaded, burned with the will to survive only to have that chance ripped away from him. Soren, on the other hand, seemed to have gone quiet long before this moment. He didn’t resist and didn’t scream.

He didn’t cling to life as if it mattered, as though he had already accepted his fate.

That difference made Alaric resent him even more.

Soren was the kind of person people could keep close without complaint because he’s obedient, timid, and always yielding. He carried that empty look in his eyes, lifeless and distant, and Alaric had always hated it.

Or even despised it because it reminded him of someone who had already given up.

Torin had wanted to live and never got the chance.

Soren had the chance, yet acted as though he didn’t care.

"Your Highness... please," one of the knights spoke up carefully as he approached Cael. "You should free his arms and legs first."

Cael flinched at the voice and froze while pulling back as the words finally sank in. Only then did he notice how wrong Soren’s position was.

His hands were bound behind his back and his legs tied tight. Dark bruises marked his face while his lips had turned blue, his skin was pale and cold to the touch.

The sight alone was enough to silence the area.

The knights exchanged grim looks. To them, it was already clear that Soren was gone.

This time, there was no saving him.

Just as they were about to accept that conclusion, a weak cough slipped from Soren’s lips. It was faint that it almost went unnoticed followed by a shallow, uneven breath. His eyes stayed closed, but it was enough to make Cael noticed.

For a split second, his eyes widened before he moved at once while pulling Soren closer and pressing his ear against his chest.

He held his breath then he heard it. "Badump... badump..."

The heartbeat was slow, but unmistakably there. Cael then lifted his head and looked sharply at the surrounding knights.

"Get me clothes to cover him. Now." he ordered. "We’re returning to the encampment. The rest of you, find those two suspicious people and bring them to me."

There was no hesitation in his voice and no room for argument.

Then Cael carefully lifted Soren into his arms while holding him close as if afraid he might slip away again. As he turned, his gaze met Alaric’s for a brief moment. Something unreadable passed between them but Cael broke the eye contact first and turned his back, carrying Soren away without another word.

Meanwhile, Lyric and Gaspar’s team were already on their way back to the encampment, accompanied by three knights who were, unfortunately, men loyal to Arctelle. These knights had been involved in Soren’s mistreatment from the start.

They believed he was responsible for their lord’s failure during the mission, convinced that Soren’s presence and actions had led to Arctelle being dismissed and stripped of the merits he believed he deserved.

Because of that resentment, they saw Soren as nothing more than a problem that needed to be erased.

They had injured him whenever they could, justifying every blow as punishment for what they thought he had taken from their lord.

In their minds, killing Soren would have set things right. The only thing they had failed to do until now was finish the job by drowning him in the freezing water.

And that failure was the only reason Soren was still alive.

Since they knew they wouldn’t get another chance once everyone returned to the encampment, the three of them or rather, five, counting the two others who had joined in decided they couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

When they learned that the frozen water containing the black liquid would need to be purified, they saw their opening.

The plan was simple, at least in their minds.

They poisoned the Duke first, making it seem as though he was the true target. If suspicion fell on an attempt against him, no one would think twice. After that, the prince would be next. With the chaos and confusion surrounding the purification, it would be easy to finish Soren off without drawing attention.

Everything went exactly as planned, almost.

What they hadn’t accounted for was the Davenmore bloodline’s resistance to poison nor had they considered Cael’s own immunity. Both of them recovered far more quickly than expected, throwing off the timing of the entire scheme.

That single miscalculation was enough to ruin what should have been a flawless execution.

And that wasn’t the only thing that went wrong.

Not only did they fail to kill Soren, but even while he was drowning, Soren still managed to purify the water making all their efforts amounted to nothing.

Nothing, except the punishment that followed as Lyric’s rage was immediate and terrifying.

Enraged by what they did, he beat them without restraint, pushing the punishment so far that it nearly turned into torture. They were left broken and terrified while painfully aware that they were lucky to still be alive.

By the time night fell, Cael’s group had already returned to the encampment and orders were given at once, and Caelius, Gwen, and Irlian were summoned to tend to Soren’s injuries.

When Caelius first saw him, he froze. Soren’s body was badly beaten with bruises dark against pale skin, wounds layered over wounds. Still, in the end, there was only one thing Caelius could do.

He healed him.

Gwen felt much the same. Seeing the man who had once helped his lord in such a state left a bitter weight in his chest, but he said nothing and focused on his work.

Irlian, however, felt something different.

Fear.

As he worked, his thoughts spiraled. Thinking that what if those five named him? What if they dragged his past with Arctelle into the light? He had been involved once, enough that even a whisper of his name could ruin him now.

’Damn it,’ he cursed inwardly. ’If His Highness hears even a single mention of my name, with how bad things already are... I’m finished. The prince, or worse, the duke, would throw me out without hesitation.’

His gaze flicked briefly toward Soren before he looked away again.

’Why is everyone making such a fuss over a commoner?’ he thought bitterly. ’Just how far have the nobles fallen...’

While everyone else was busy, Cael handed his bloodied sword to the knight beside him. He then looked down at the five bodies lying in the snow with their severed heads staining the ground red.

His voice was cold and calm as he spoke. "Get rid of them. I don’t care how. Clean this place up and send a message to the capital."

The knight bowed quickly and moved to obey.