To My First Love, With Regret - 88

The train departed with a heavy blare of its whistle. Though no one was pursuing her yet, her heart hammered against her ribs like a fugitive’s.

To stop that man from chasing us, I have to cut him off at the ankles first.

She decided to put into motion a plan she had hesitated over—stalled only by a lingering, meaningless ghost of their past that Ethan himself had already discarded. She dropped her instructions to the attendant sitting across from her.

—Contact Shepherd as soon as we arrive. Tell him I have a tip regarding Ethan Fairchild and that I wish to speak with him tomorrow night.

—Yes, my Lady.

—Under the name of the Grand Madame.

—Yes, of course.

It was Eve’s nature to act the moment a decision was made, but this had to wait until tomorrow. Today was a day for drawing a different stroke in a painting where her entire future was at stake.

Eve’s destination was a military hospital near the front lines.

Though civilian access to military zones was strictly controlled, a Princess of Kentrell bringing supplies to a facility suffering from chronic shortages was the inevitable exception. Received with due reverence by soldiers from the moment she hit the station, Eve was ushered directly into the Director’s office upon arrival.

—Lady Evelyn, I had no idea you would brave such danger to make this precious journey. It is truly an honor.

Colonel Wallace, the commander of the hospital, treated her with the utmost hospitality. He emphasized repeatedly how much the Kentrell family’s support meant to the medical staff and the troops during these desperate times.

—Kentrell is merely fulfilling the duty expected of the social leadership. I hope this brings some comfort to you as well, Colonel, in your devotion to saving the sons of our motherland.

At Eve’s subtle nod, the attendant presented the Director with a separate gift. Opening the box to find high-end whiskey and cigars, Colonel Wallace could not hide his delight.

—…I hardly know what to do with myself, receiving such a rare gift.

The Colonel suddenly brought up ‘Captain Owen Kallas.’ After all, this hospital was the frontline post to which he had been assigned.

Eve had traveled this long distance specifically to meet that loathsome fetishist.

Owen’s superior prattled on like a man who had just been bribed, mentioning how Owen was diligent and capable, and promising to look out for his well-being.

Of course, Eve had absolutely no desire to bribe superiors for the sake of the ‘husband’ she would soon eliminate.

However, it was necessary to invite such a misunderstanding. She needed to be seen as a woman so desperately in love with her husband that she traveled to the front lines to offer bribes and beg for his safety.

Only then would the whole world believe that the child she would soon bear was Owen Kallas’s.

—Since you are here, would you care to tour the wards?

The Director offered to act as her guide personally.

—It isn’t a particularly pleasant sight for a lady, but I’m sure the patients who received your supplies would wish to offer their thanks. It might also be good to document this meaningful visit with a photograph.

A commemorative photo. It seemed that in the Colonel’s eyes, Eve was just another snobbish noble who had descended to the gutter for a moment to leave behind a cheap piece of evidence that she had ‘devoted herself to the war’ by donating some goods.

While it was true that Eve’s purpose for being here was deeply personal and impure, it was certainly not for such a hypocritical reason.

—If it isn’t too much trouble, could I observe Captain Kallas performing his duties for just a moment?

—Of course. You’re newlyweds, after all—how worried you must be, having sent your husband to such a desolate place.

The Colonel offered a look full of warmth, as if witnessing the devotion of a wife willing to head to the front for her beloved husband in this heartless era. Eve had to swallow a bitter sneer.

A beloved husband. And devotion.

Tonight, Owen Kallas was destined to be used thoroughly as a tool.

—This way.

Eve followed the Director’s polite guidance into the ward, where the sharp scent of antiseptic stung her nose.

She had braced herself for a living hell full of screams and death, but the reality of the hospital she saw was closer to a scene of daily life struggling to overcome tragedy.

—Ugh… nurse… some morphine, please….

Groans of pain leaked into the hallway occasionally, but as she passed hospital rooms with wide-open doors, what she saw was the vitality of patients gathered in small groups, playing cards or listening to the radio.

—Ah, here we are.

Colonel Wallace stopped in front of a room. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to sense the murderous intent—not at all like a ‘wife coming to see her husband’—in Eve’s eyes as she stared at the back of the doctor in the white coat making his rounds.

—Captain Kallas, a welcome guest has arrived.

Perhaps the Director was expecting a moving reunion between husband and wife. As he stepped forward to call out, Owen stopped flipping through a chart and turned around.

Thwack.

In that instant, the chart fell from his hand to the floor. His mouth hung open in shock, as if it might follow the chart down.

—Lady… Evelyn…?

Owen had no idea that Eve intended to visit his post. She had asked the Hospital Director to keep it a secret, claiming she wanted to surprise her husband. It was, of course, a lie.

She simply hadn’t wanted to give the man time to ponder the reasons behind her visit. If he thought too much, he might begin to suspect her true intentions.

The ambush was perfect. Owen’s mind had clearly ground to a halt. Eve took the initiative, stepping toward the man who stood frozen as if he had forgotten how to move, and entered the ward.

From the patients and nurses to the boisterously laughing Hospital Director following behind—there were plenty of spectators to witness her performance as a devoted wife.

Suppressing a surge of revulsion akin to what one feels when clutching an insect with bare hands, Eve placed her hand on her ‘husband’s’ arm and linked them. Naturally, the voice she used to whisper into his ear was anything but affectionate.

—I’ve come to monitor whether you are following my orders.

To this paraphilic fetishist, a sadistic warning would be a much sweeter endearment than any conventional expression of concern. Deluded into thinking Eve felt a possessive desire for him as his master, Owen could not contain his overwhelming emotion; a disgusting film of tears welled in his eyes.

—Even war cannot tear love apart, it seems.

Even Colonel Wallace, ignorant of the play’s subtext, was moved by the scene. The surrounding patients also watched the military doctor reunited with his lover in this bleak place where death was a constant, their eyes filled with envy.

—My god! That lady is the Captain’s wife?

the excited voice of a patient—more peach fuzz than beard—rang through the ward.

—She’s incredibly beautiful! Captain, you’ve got to teach me later how you landed such a beauty.

An older wounded soldier in the neighboring bed rebuked his thoughtless young comrade.

—You brat! Is that any way to speak to the Princess of Kentrell?

—That… that woman is the Princess of Kentrell?

The rumor that the Princess of Kentrell had come to find her army doctor husband seemingly spread beyond the ward in an instant. A public affairs officer, camera in hand, came rushing in.

—If it isn’t a discourtesy, may I run an article on the Lady’s visit in the military gazette?

—Of course.

—It’s an honor! If it’s not too uncomfortable, perhaps a photograph as well….

—That’s fine.

Eve gave her consent readily, but added a condition.

—On the condition that the photo is only of me with my husband. I came all this way specifically to see him, after all.

If she left an official record proving they were a ‘real’ couple intimate enough to conceive a child, her performance would be flawless.

—Thank you, my Lady. I will do my utmost to write this piece so that your devotion is not in vain.

The public affairs officer felt he had finally landed a perfect human-interest story. After the interview and the photo session in front of the hospital, he hummed a tune as he walked back into the building, eager to draft the article.

However, his cheerful humming stopped abruptly. It died the moment an Air Force officer, leaning crookedly in the shadows by the main gate, flicked a finger at him with a cigarette wedged between his knuckles.

—Over here.

The arrogant gesture, as if calling a dog, was offensive, but he had no choice but to run like one. He was a mere Second Lieutenant, and the man over there was a Major.

The officer saluted the Air Force Major—who looked as though he were barely suppressing an explosion of rage—and instinctively swallowed hard.

What on earth is he so angry about?

The Major, staring him down coldly with blue-gray eyes, flicked his hand again. This time, it was aimed at the object hanging below the lieutenant’s neck.

—The camera.

The brief command ended with him biting down on his cigarette. The public affairs officer didn’t obey immediately, instead staring at his superior with bewildered eyes.

Why is he asking for the camera?

This Air Force officer, whom he was seeing for the first time, was masculine and handsome enough to grace a recruitment poster, but from his loose attire to his slanted posture, he seemed more like a back-alley thug than a soldier. The lieutenant couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that if he handed over that camera, something beyond all reason was about to happen.