[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke-Chapter 168: A Line That Shouldn’t Be Crossed

The fabric of the tent rustled as Allen stepped back inside at the Archduke’s command. The area was dark.

The thick cloth wall did not allow the evening sunlight to filter inside, and the only light came from the crystal lantern.

His first instinct was to look at Xion.

His teacher, as big-hearted as he was, just lay there. Soft snores filled the silent tent while he slept on his grace’s lap as if it were the safest place in the world.

The archduke glanced at Allen. Just one look was enough for him to know that his grace was telling him to stay silent.

Despite Xion being covered with the mana shield that absorbed almost every sound, Allen was only allowed to speak when asked to, and that too, in a very low voice.

It was all so the sleeping person would not wake up.

The sight sent an odd feeling creeping up Allen’s spine. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Xion had always been wary of the Archduke, or rather he had finally started regarding his grace as he should after learning about his true identity.

Even when treating his grace, Xion kept a careful distance, never fully letting his guard down as he had done with Rael.

And yet now, he was practically cradled in the arms of the very man he should have been most cautious of.

Allen’s sharp brown eyes landed on the mess of black hair peeking from beneath the thin duvet. He knew those dark strands were tousled and tangled from the archduke’s hands.

That alone was enough to put him on edge.

But it was not until he stepped forward that he saw it.

His hand trembled despite his effort to keep it steady as he carefully placed the aged parchment on the table beside the archduke.

His breath caught in his throat.

At first, he almost thought it was just a shadow cast by the dim lantern light. But when he blinked, it was still there. Unmistakable.

A glaring ring of faintly reddened marks pressed into his teacher’s soft cheek. They were ... tooth marks.

His fingers twitched at his sides before they curled into fists. His nails bit into his palms, resisting the urge to touch the mark as if that would erase it from existence.

A phantom pressure built in his own jaw. It was almost like he could feel the bite himself just by looking at it.

I should cure the bite with my healing ability but...

As he stepped back in his place, his gaze fell on his grace’s face. It was still the same.

No expression.

Not even the slight smirk that would usually surface when he was in the mood to destroy something. Which, in this case, was equivalent to being in good spirits.

And that ... That was what made it worse.

If there had been a smirk, it would have at least made sense.

It would mean this was nothing more than another game to him. A moment of amusement that would fade.

However, with the way his grace was so calm, he knew it. To the archduke, it was only natural that his teeth had left a mark on Xion’s skin.

Allen stood there, frozen. His face was as neutral as it could be. Years of habit had allowed him that much control over his emotions.

But his hands easily betrayed him. The sweat coating his fingertips was warm, and sticky.

It was then Allen realized that the knight commander Raymond Eldritch was absolutely right from the very beginning.

The Archduke should not be allowed to get closer to Xion. Especially to Xion.

"What?" Darius asked while leisurely picking up the paper which had obvious wrinkles on it.

Allen’s voice was steady and low when he finally spoke. "This is from the North, your Grace."

Darius read the parchment without so much as sparing Allen a glance.

It was, as expected, from home. They were urging them to come back as soon as possible.

The northern border was in constant unrest.

His Majesty was well aware of just how much effort it took from their side to keep the territory safe from invasion.

And yet, despite knowing the weight of their efforts, His Majesty shamelessly sought to send the archduke eastward.

Allen was half convinced the old man on the throne had finally gone senile. Then again, the true problem lay elsewhere.

Theodore Valaria, the fool of a crown prince, was letting his personal grievances cloud his judgment.

If Allen still failed to see why Theodore was so determined to send the archduke away, he would be unworthy of serving his lord.

His disdain for the royal family only deepened, especially after that hedonistic brat, Prince Nikolai, had the audacity to throw his teacher into a jail cell for a night.

The royal family could no longer be trusted. That much was clear to all of them. freewёbnoνel.com

But beyond politics and power struggles, Allen had a more personal reason for wanting the archduke to return home. His health was worsening, and they all knew who to blame.

The culprit was more or less the royal heir apparent.

The sooner they reached North, the sooner His Grace could deal with all the unresolved matters weighing on him.

And, perhaps most importantly, the less time his teacher would have to spend in the archduke’s presence.

"How long?"

What the archduke truly meant to ask was how long it would take to wrap up their affairs before they moved in full force.

There would be fewer breaks and more battles. But who could convince His Grace to rest when there were so many uncertainties lurking in the shadows?

"Tonight. Then, we can leave in the morning-"

"No."

Darius waved a hand, and the parchment ignited. The delicate paper curled into embers before vanishing into nothing. "We will leave at midnight."

The room darkened once more.

Allen wanted to protest. This was not good for His Grace’s health.

But the words caught in his throat when he noticed where the archduke’s attention had drifted. His grace was detangling the unruly strands of black hair he had messed up earlier.

There was so much Allen wanted to say, yet all he could do was bite his tongue.

Silently, he took a step back. Then another. He knew better than to show defiance here. At least, not before this man.

Nonetheless, the thought continued to drum in his mind.

The Archduke must not get closer to Xion. Not more than he already had.

But what if... what if Xion had unknowingly carved his place into the archduke’s heart?