Chapter 15
“You’re hurt?”
Only then did Dmitri glance down at his wound.
“So I am.
It’s nothing.”
Nothing?
Ariella let out a helpless sigh.
Even at a glance, the cut was deep.
She looked around, wondering if there might be water nearby, and Dmitri lit a wall lamp.
The faint golden glow filled the cabin, wrapping it in warmth and comfort.
“I didn’t think a place like this would exist, hidden so deep in the forest.”
“Even so, it’s no longer safe.”
The spot where the bear had appeared wasn’t far.
If the emperor had tracked them that far, it wouldn’t be long before this cabin was discovered.
The thought itself was absurd.
This wasn’t even wartime…
Ariella’s eyes lingered on Dmitri’s broad back as he gathered supplies.
Had he always lived with one foot on a battlefield?
When he returned to her side, he took her hand and pushed up the sleeve of her shirt to examine the wound.
In the silence, the faint rasp of fabric brushing against fabric was almost painfully clear.
“You’ll let me treat you after this, won’t you?”
Dmitri gave no answer.
His attitude that his own injuries didn’t matter made her bristle.
What wound in the world didn’t hurt?
“You will, won’t you?
Otherwise, I won’t let you treat me either.”
She pulled her arm back, stubbornly resisting.
Though irritation flickered across his face, he gave a reluctant nod.
“I’ll disinfect it.”
“Good.”
The arrow had grazed her arm, leaving a gash no wider than a knuckle.
The pain had been sharp, but the wound itself was smaller than she expected.
“Ow! I think the disinfectant hurts worse than the arrow did.”
She tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but Dmitri didn’t smile.
He disinfected the wound thoroughly, then carefully applied ointment.
Each touch of his fingers was precise, almost reverent, yet it made her wince again and again.
“Does it hurt?”
His golden eyes lifted toward her, filled with quiet concern.
Ariella’s throat grew dry.
She quickly shook her head, avoiding his gaze.
“No.
I think that’s enough.”
She tried to pull away, but he refused to release her arm.
Instead, he wrapped it firmly with bandages.
“This isn’t necessary for a wound this small,” she protested.
“It won’t even give me a fever.
I’ll be fine in a night or two.
So don’t worry.”
She deliberately threw his own words back at him.
He gave a faint, dry laugh, and the heavy air lightened a little.
His hands were practised and confident.
Ariella watched, memorising each step, knowing she would have to treat him next.
But then, Dmitri pressed two fingers against the neatly tied bandage and rubbed lightly over the wound.
Even through the cloth, the heat of his touch seemed to sear her skin.
“You know,” he murmured, glancing up at her.
His black eyes caught the firelight, glowing like sparks in the night.
“You really are.”
“What… what do you mean?”
“On my side.”
She had never seen him like this before his lips tugging into the faintest smile, his eyes soft at the corners.
His lowered brows gave him a strangely defenceless look.
“I told you already,” she said quickly, turning away.
“So… not loyalty, but affection?”
Though he was simply echoing her own words, it somehow felt like he was teasing her.
She felt her ears burn red.
“W-well, yes…”
She turned her head, only to meet Grey’s wide, innocent eyes from where the animal sat quietly.
Even looking at him felt unbearable in that moment.
Then Dmitri’s hand suddenly caught her chin, turning her back toward him.
“Don’t look away.”
“Huh?”
“You should look at me.
Because you like me.”
“O-of course I do, but can’t I look somewhere else once in a while—”
“No.”
He pressed a finger gently but firmly to the corner of her eye, stroking down.
The gesture was strangely insistent, almost possessive.
Even such a small touch stole her breath away.
His hand moved again, unrelenting, until it brushed against her parted lips.
“You should only look at me.
With this small mouth, you told me yourself you wanted to stay by my side because you liked me.”
His thumb traced her lower lip, lingering with deliberate weight.
Ariella shook her head quickly, pulling back.
“F-five years.
Only five years.”
“Yes.
In five years, you’ll live your own life.”
“Exactly.”
Dmitri gave a low chuckle.
His lips smiled, but his eyes did not. Whether he was joking or deadly serious, she couldn’t tell.
Then, suddenly, both his hands cupped her cheeks.
He wasn’t rough, but his grip left her no escape.
“You’re lying about liking me… aren’t you?”
“…”
“Then why are you on my side?”
She was.
She was on his side.
And yet somehow, the words felt false even to her own ears.
Why did it feel like she was the one deceiving him?
Why did it feel like she was the one in the wrong, when the cruel one was Dmitri himself?
At that moment, rain began to pour, pounding against the cabin roof with a deafening roar.
The whole wooden hut seemed to shudder with the storm.
Ariella’s breath came quicker, uneven.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
Her pupils trembled.
The smell of wet earth rushed in with the rain, mingling with the sting of antiseptic, the faint tang of blood… and Dmitri’s dark eyes, which always made her dizzy.
Her hand shot up, gripping the collar of his shirt.
Then, in one sharp motion, she tore it open.
Their startled gazes collided.
“You need treatment,” she said firmly.
His brows drew together briefly, then he yielded.
Outside, the light dimmed further as the sun sank.
Once exposed, his wounds looked far worse than she had imagined.
The gash across his shoulder could be disinfected, but the one on his arm was so deep she dared not touch it.
They needed to return quickly.
“This will sting.
Bear with it.”
As she poured disinfectant, Ariella winced harder than he did.
Dmitri didn’t so much as flinch.
“It doesn’t hurt?”
“It does.”
“Then why…?”
Was this why the emperor had once thrown him into freezing water to make him unfeeling?
The thought startled her, and her eyes widened.
Dmitri caught the flicker of curiosity in her gaze.
She shook her head sharply, pushing the thought away.
Her body tingled as if the disinfectant had been poured on her own wounds instead.
“The cut on your arm I can’t do much about it.
But I’ll at least bandage it.”
He shrugged lightly.
Ariella began wrapping the bandage as carefully as she could, imitating the way he had done it.
The bleeding slowed, though every movement threatened to open it again.
Until it was stitched, the bandage was the only way to hold it closed.
“Don’t hurt your face,” she said suddenly.
“Why?”
“Because…”
Because who would want to see a masterpiece ruined?
Even if it belonged to an enemy nation, a priceless treasure was still something one instinctively wished to protect.
“…Because you’re too plain-looking already. Extremely plain.”
For a moment, his brows drew together, then he burst into hearty laughter.
Ariella squeezed her eyes shut, flustered.
Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain he could hear it.
When she opened them again, the world was awash in red.
Droplets seemed to explode like sparks all around him, brilliant and chaotic.
The sensation startled her even more than the moment she had first realised she had gone back to the past.
By the time they returned, the forest had already been swallowed by night.
Thanks to Eric bringing the horses to where they had hunted the bear, Ariella and Dmitri could ride together the rest of the way.
The forest at night was a different world entirely strange sounds, unfamiliar scents, even the air seemed colder.
“We’re almost there,” Eric called, pointing ahead.
In the distance, light burned bright as if a great fire had been lit.
Torches and lanterns dotted the line of tents, casting a restless glow.
As they approached, Ariella saw men laying out their kills, boasting proudly of their trophies.
Carcasses piled high, blood scenting the air so thickly it felt like a battlefield.
Instinctively, Ariella pressed closer against Dmitri’s chest behind her.
Thanks to Eric fetching clean clothes back at the cabin, she and Dmitri entered camp looking not so different from when they had first set out.
Gradually, heads began to turn.
One by one, people realised Dmitri had arrived.
Without a word, every soldier bowed low before him.
Even after he passed, they kept their backs bent, not daring to rise.
“Why are they doing that?”
Ariella whispered.
Dmitri gave no reply.
She realised then his silence had grown heavier the closer they came to camp.
As he stepped onto the platform, the crowd parted for him.
Then, as one, they began to chant his name.
“Dmitri!
Dmitri!”
Ariella froze, wide-eyed, as the cries swelled around her.
Their voices held pride.
Reverence.
A weight of trust so strong it sent shivers through her.
For the first time, she felt how much these people believed in him, depended on him.
Her whole body stiffened.
“Dmitri! Dmitri!”
The night echoed with his name.
