[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 189: Let Me Be Your Healer Your Grace

Xion set the heavy bag down on the table with a soft thud. If there was one thing that genuinely impressed him, it was how clean the tent always was.

He was definitely not distracting himself while his ears turned a very suspicious shade of red. Nope. Not at all.

But before beginning the procedure, Xion indeed needed to make a few things clear with the patient, and with the people who counted as family. In this case, they were Allen and Ray.

As for Lady Nazia and Berry, Xion had not seen them since they left the capital.

Just as Xion was thinking about the people around Darius, Ray entered the tent. The knight reached Xion’s side, but his eyes were drawn elsewhere.

His gaze lingered on Darius’ body.

Xion didn’t think much of it, but Allen understood immediately.

After two months, there was barely anything left of the archduke’s once-proud abs. There was just the faintest outline of them, and even then, only four remained.

Ray had always joked about one day having more muscles than His Grace or at least outdoing the archduke in strength.

It was one of his silly dreams, but he did not want to fulfill it in this way. Never in this way.

Ray looked away, his jaw tight. He said nothing as he handed Xion a clean sheet of paper and a writing pen. As if that simple act could distract from the sinking feeling in his chest.

The knight lowered his head slightly and stepped back, resuming his respectful post beside Darius.

He was silently guarding his grace.

Xion ignored the silence lingering in the air. He scooted the small table closer to the tub so that the archduke would be able to see what he was going to write before plopping on the ground.

His knees were touching the bathtub, but Xion was too focused on the task at hand to care.

"Your grace, your body..." he hesitated. He was having trouble finding the easy words to explain Cancer in a better way.

Meanwhile, the bathwater rippled gently as Darius shifted. Steam curled through the air softening the world around him.

He turned slightly, resting his cheek against the knuckle of his palm, elbow propped on the curved rim of the enormous soaking tub. His other arm hung lazily over the side as water trailed from his fingertips.

Each droplet, threaded with faint blue mana, slipped from his fingers and vanished the moment they touched the black fabric covering Xion’s knee.

It was completely absorbed, dissolved, and then forgotten.

Xion sat frozen on the cold ground, pen resting awkwardly in his hand. Meanwhile, his eyes refused to meet the pair staring so intently at his face.

His Grace looked like he might fall asleep while Xion looked like he might combust.

He was still too stunned to speak. Too stunned, because His Grace the Archduke was very much naked! He was in the tub after all.

Bless the stars I didn’t look down earlier, Xion thought, horrified at himself.

"Go on," Darius said quietly, misreading his silence. His voice was almost teasing. "You’re afraid to say something about my... pathetic body?"

Xion flinched at the gentleness of that voice.

He was afraid to speak, yes. But not for the reason Darius assumed. The words he held back weren’t judgmental at all. Rather he was just too flustered at the moment.

Get a grip, Xion. You are a doctor!

The yelling worked as he placed his hand back on the papers. While breathing carefully through his nose he spoke, "No. That’s not... I wasn’t —" he stumbled, then cleared his throat. "Your Grace. There is... something inside you."

Darius lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"A demon," Xion said, almost reluctantly. "Of sorts."

It wasn’t a lie. If anything, it was the closest word this world had for the cursed thing gnawing away at Darius.

So Xion, who hated baseless diseases that sounded like Devil’s spawn, was now reduced to calling them that.

A low hum of acknowledgement vibrated in Darius’s throat. While Allen and Ray just stood there, straining their ears so as not to miss anything.

Xion continued, carefully choosing his words as he scribbled notes into the parchment.

"It’s like... a seed. A corrupted seed of mana. One that’s taken root deep in your core. It feeds on your energy and distorts it. Poisons it. And that corrupted mana, in turn, eats you from inside. It begins to harm your organs. Slowly. Silently."

Xion kept his gaze lowered, fixed on the paper.

"We call it ... cancer," he said in a low voice. "Once someone is infected by this kind of darkness... there’s rarely hope." And even less time.

Xion considered how best to explain the treatment.

When he lifted his head up, he regretted it immediately. His Grace was looking directly at him, and that too from such a close distance.

His wet hair clung to his temple, droplets tracing paths down the sharp cut of his jaw and collarbone. Blue mana glowed faintly beneath his skin, making him look like some ethereal elf from legend.

Xion did not know that those pale green eyes only softened slightly as they met his stunned stare.

Xion subconsciously swallowed. Then stupidly choked on his own spit.

Coughing violently, he looked away in embarrassment.

Darius, clearly amused by Xion’s panicked and flustered state, casually reached out to pat his back. "Relax," he said with a smile. "I know I don’t have much hope left."

That smile broke something in Xion and, oddly enough, stopped his coughing fit too.

That’s not what I meant...

But the words were caught in his throat just like the truth of his feelings, the fear of backstabbing, and the thousand unsaid things that stretched between them.

Xion’s hand trembled slightly as he gripped the pen like it was the only thing tethering him to the world. It sure gave him enough courage to speak again.

"Let me be your healer with all your trust, Your Grace" he said, staring straight at Darius, "And I won’t let you suffer like this anymore."