The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 88: “Did I do something to Elias?”

Soren knew Elias had learned his lesson.

Ever since then, Soren had taken it upon himself to nag him relentlessly or, at times, punish him with cold silence whenever Elias failed to show restraint. It wasn’t done out of spite or pride, but out of quiet fear.

After all, it was never Soren who stood in the path of danger when Elias lost control but it was always Elias himself and that was precisely what Soren could not bear. He would rather be misunderstood, even resented, than watch Elias rush headlong into harm again.

So, when Soren noticed that Elias was acting strangely over the past few days, he couldn’t simply brush it off. Elias still spoke as he always did but to someone who knew him as well as Soren did, the differences were impossible to miss.

They were subtle things like a pause held a second too long, a glance that lingered before turning away, and an attentiveness that felt almost forced.

Just like before, Elias had grown overly mindful of him.

He hovered, checked on him more than necessary, and kept insisting on doing Soren’s work in his place.

Each time, Elias brushed it off with an easy excuse, but the persistence only deepened Soren’s unease. It felt as though Elias was hiding something.

Something that he was determined to keep Soren from finding out.

That suspicion only grew stronger the day their employer, Alaric, summoned them.

One of the servants came in a hurry while explaining that the duke’s favorite horse had taken ill. The animal was vomiting and refused to move even an inch with its condition worsening by the minute. And before Soren could even step forward, Elias was already there, volunteering himself without hesitation as if this, too, was something Soren was not meant to touch.

"What’s wrong with you? Did something happen?" Soren asked.

They were eating lunch inside Soren’s tent, steam rising faintly from the bowls as the northern cold pressed in from all sides. Elias was talking like he always did, filling the quiet with small comments and half jokes, but Soren barely heard any of it.

Something about him felt wrong.

Not obvious because Elias was careful but Soren had known him too long to miss it.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Elias said while shoving another bite into his mouth. "Come on, eat. You’ll regret it when it gets cold."

But Soren didn’t listen.

He just watched Elias instead as he set his spoon back onto the plate.

"Stop avoiding it," he said. "What happened to you? Do you really think I wouldn’t notice you used your healing magic on yourself a few days ago?"

Elias flinched just for a second before he forced himself to keep chewing. "...I don’t know what you mean," he said. "Did I?"

"Elias." Soren didn’t raise his voice because he didn’t need to.

Hearing his cold voice, Elias let out a breath, long and tired. He then put his utensils down like they suddenly weighed too much, then stood and reached across the table while closing his fingers around Soren’s hand.

His touch was warm and grounding, too gentle for someone insisting nothing was wrong.

"Soren," he said kindly, "don’t do that. Don’t worry about me."

His thumb brushed over Soren’s knuckles with a familiar, careful motion. "I’m fine, I promise. Nothing happened, really." He then smiled like he hoped it would be enough.

"Just believe me, yeah?"

Soren felt it then. There was a lie sitting between them, heavy and unspoken, and he hated how badly he wanted to believe him anyway.

Soren knew Elias didn’t mean any harm. He knew that he was only trying to keep him from worrying but the more Elias hid things from him, the worse it became because not knowing was far more terrifying than the truth ever could be.

"...Is it His Grace?" Soren asked quietly.

Elias shook his head. This time, he tightened his grip while fully enclosing Soren’s hand in both of his, as if grounding him there. "No," he said gently. "Why are you worrying about me? Worry about yourself, okay?"

Soren didn’t pull away as his fingers curled slightly, betraying him. "Then is it one of the young lords?" he pressed. "Or... was it His Highness?"

Elias then let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Soren, I’m really fine. Nothing happened." He leaned in a little while searching Soren’s face. "And if something had happened, you know me, right? I’d probably be rotting in a jail cell by now but I’m here, right in front of you."

He tried to lighten it while nudging Soren’s hand with his thumb. "Honestly, you worry too much. Keep this up and you’ll get wrinkles. What am I supposed to do then, huh?"

But Soren only looked at him, unmoved. Elias could joke all he wanted but Soren could hear the strain beneath it, the way Elias was trying too hard to sound normal. And that, more than anything, told him this wasn’t nothing at all.

After that, Elias sought out Caelius while making up a thin excuse about having something he needed to ask him. In truth, it had nothing to do with Caelius at all. Elias just needed distance and an escape from Soren’s quiet, insistent questions.

Because the more Soren asked, the heavier the guilt sat in his chest.

Elias had never been good at lying, not when it came to Soren.

Every look, and careful word felt like a betrayal but telling the truth felt worse. So, he did what he always did when he was cornered. He just needs to walk away while convincing himself it was only temporary, that once things settled, he’d find the right moment to explain.

Avoiding Soren was easier than watching the concern in his eyes deepen. Easier than admitting that the truth, once spoken, couldn’t be taken back.

Unbeknownst to Elias, Soren was already cornered inside his tent, literally.

Cael had him pinned near the canvas wall with one arm braced beside Soren’s head with his presence pressing in far too close for comfort. The space felt suddenly smaller and the air heavier, as Cael leaned down just enough to invade it.

"Hm," Cael murmured with lips curling in a mocking smile. "Did I do something to Elias?"