Don’t Tame It!

Chapter 38

“Ah.”

As if he had just remembered something, Divoa clenched his empty fist and smiled. Then, he calmly withdrew his outstretched hand.

“This is the opposite direction of Dr. Rios’s tent. This area is where the soldiers’ barracks are. Let’s go.”

Saying that Divoa extended his arm as if showing the way forward.

Irene, who had been standing still, took a step. Divoa walked beside her and casually asked,

“I’m curious about what happened while I was gone.”

Irene blinked at him as if she didn’t understand his question. Divoa simply shrugged.

“The military doctor mentioned something earlier. That you treated an injured soldier?”

“Oh.”

So that’s what he meant. Irene nodded indifferently and calmly recounted the events of the day in order.

Divoa listened attentively, occasionally nodding or smiling in response.

The camp was filled with makeshift tents on bare ground. Even though the Alvar army had retreated, it was still a war zone where battles could break out at any moment. Soldiers bustled about, and loud shouts rang through the air. The clashing of weapons and rowdy singing filled the surroundings.

Yet, Irene’s calm voice cut through the noise, ringing clearly in Divoa’s ears. He frowned slightly before suddenly asking,

“You said you don’t like humans. That’s why you couldn’t become a doctor for people, right?”

“…….”

Irene hesitated, unable to answer right away. Even she didn’t fully understand why she had acted the way she did. The moment she saw the blood gushing out, her body moved on its own.

At medical school, she mostly worked with cnidarians, leaving the hands-on patient care to “Jellyfish.”

Whenever they did practice on living patients, it was only minor injuries or expectant mothers. And even then, Jellyfish handled her share. It wasn’t free, of course—she had to split her steak dinner with it. It was an unspoken agreement, a win-win situation.

“If not me…”

She spoke without thinking, then bit her lip.

Divoa responded in a relaxed tone,

“If not you, would they have died?”

“…….”

“A sense of duty, perhaps?”

“No.”

Irene shook her head slowly. But was that true? A vague doubt lingered in her mind.

Divoa studied her with an unreadable expression. For some reason, a strange discomfort crept up inside him.

She had treated his soldier. That was what he had wanted. One of the reasons he had brought Irene to his territory in the first place.

And yet, something twisted inside him, like a dark coil writhing in his gut.

Why?

Just as Divoa was frowning,

“Dr. Rios!”

Mia came running between the tents, panting. Sweat glistened on her forehead.

“Where were you? I went to throw out the dirty water, and when I came back, you were gone. I had to search everywhere!”

Noticing Divoa belatedly, she quickly bowed. Then, she whispered to Irene in an accusatory tone,

“You were with His Grace? You could have at least told me.”

Irene didn’t bother to explain. She simply walked toward her tent. Mia cast another glance at Divoa before quickly following.

“Wait for me, Dr. Rios!”

Divoa stood still, watching Irene’s retreating figure.

“Javier.”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Irene’s back looks familiar. Don’t you think so?”

Javier turned his gaze to where she had disappeared.

Divoa chuckled to himself and headed for his tent, murmuring,

“I should make her stand out more. Maybe plant a flag on her? Or paint her bright red? No, blue might suit her better.”

Javier immediately understood what he meant. But as a loyal aide, he knew his master wasn’t expecting an answer.

As their shadows stretched long behind them, rumors about the Grand Duke and his doctor spread quickly.

The story of the soldier who was punished for harassing Irene stirred both fear and intrigue.

“She must be skilled if His Grace values her that much.”

“Haven’t you heard? She stitched up a wounded soldier’s skin with a needle.”

“What? Not just burned it shut with a hot iron? That doesn’t sound too impressive.”

“Well, Uno made it seem like a big deal. Guess we’ll see.”

“But what’s strange is how much His Grace personally warned us. He never did that for Dr. Flich.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor is she?”

“Or…”

One soldier lowered his voice meaningfully.

“Or what?”

“She might not just be a doctor.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s a woman, and he’s a man. Anything could happen.”

“Nah, think about the women His Grace has been rumored with before. She’s nothing like them.”

“Still…”

The soldier murmured, looking up at the full moon.

On nights like this, anything could happen.

Irene was standing in front of Divoa’s tent, holding her medical bag.

She was confused.

Why had he called for her?

Thinking about it wouldn’t give her an answer. Just as she was about to speak, Javier pulled back the entrance flap.

“…….”

For a moment, Irene was surprised.

Javier met her gaze as if he had been expecting her. Then, without a word, he stepped aside, allowing her to enter.

Irene walked in.

She locked eyes with Divoa, who was seated in a simple wooden chair covered with cloth.

Though it wasn’t the luxurious armchair from the castle, he looked just as comfortable. It was as if the makeshift tent had turned into a cozy living room.

Irene walked straight up to him.

“I heard you were looking for me. Are you feeling unwell?”

There was no other reason he would call her. Since he had summoned her instead of Miguel, he must have been injured.

That was serious. Any wound, no matter how small, could be dangerous for him.

“Hmm.”

Divoa tapped his temple with a finger and narrowed his eyes slightly. Then, he smirked.

“My shoulder aches. I must have hit it somewhere during the battle. I haven’t been able to sleep all night.”

Irene nodded indifferently. At least it wasn’t a bleeding wound, but she couldn’t relax just yet.

His condition meant that even internal bleeding could be life-threatening.

Just then, she noticed something odd.

His face didn’t look like someone who hadn’t slept. It looked… refreshed.

Still, she took a step closer. Pain tolerance varies from person to person.

“I’ll take a look.”

Divoa nodded, pleased. Irene stared at him for a moment.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Go on.”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Ah.”

Divoa frowned slightly. His sigh sounded almost theatrical.

“This is troublesome. My fingers ache, too. Wielding a sword for hours—of course, you wouldn’t know, having never held one.”

He sighed dramatically.

“My whole body is sore. There’s not a single spot that doesn’t hurt.”

Irene understood. Even writing for hours made my fingers cramp. Swinging a heavy sword must be worse.

Then, Divoa’s voice dropped into a low murmur.

“So, Dr. Rios… why don’t you undress me yourself?”

For a moment, Irene didn’t know where to look.

Not because of his words.

But because of the rasp in his voice and the sharp intensity of his gaze.

“…….”

His voice felt like it brushed against her skin.

Around her collarbone, perhaps.

A strange itch spread there.

Suppressing the urge to scratch, Irene turned toward Javier. In a flat tone, she said,

“I think he would be more suited for the job.”

Divoa’s expression stiffened slightly. He shifted his gaze to his aide, who stood with his hands behind his back.

After a brief silence, Javier bowed.

“Commander Niceto has requested a meeting. I should attend.”