Chapter 1557: Zero Tolerance for Nonsense ( 1557 )

Fayna glanced toward the voice. Her vision was still hazy, but she could make out the shape of a woman standing nearby. A beautiful girl wearing glasses and a pristine white coat, holding a clipboard with a pen in her hand, writing something down carefully.

Fayna’s voice came out weak and cracked.

"W... where... am... I?"

The woman nudged her glasses up and smiled, her eyes checking the monitoring device beside the bed before she spoke in a soft, measured tone.

"You are at the Gaze Healing Facility."

Fayna’s brow furrowed, her voice weak and confused.

"G... Gaze... what?"

The woman turned to face her fully.

"Gaze Healing Facility. It is one of Armand’s main medical centers. A place where people come to heal, recover, and rest. You’ve been unconscious for several days."

Fayna blinked, still confused. The woman reached into the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a sleek, metallic wrist device. She lifted Fayna’s arm and locked the device around her wrist with a soft click. The moment it clicked into place, the device glowed with a faint, shimmering light.

Fayna’s brow furrowed in confusion.

"W... what... is this?"

The woman smirked, nudging her glasses up before speaking.

"Sorry~ Under our Sovereign’s decree, you are not allowed to leave Armand."

Fayna’s eyes widened.

"That device on your wrist will prevent you from crossing the Armand border. If you try to leave, the barrier surrounding our nation will activate and stop you. You won’t be able to move past it. Not until you are given permission. I’m afraid you will be staying with us for a while."

Fayna stared at the device, her mind still foggy, her body too weak to fully process what she was being told.

"W... why?"

The woman nudged her glasses up, her expression calm but carrying an edge of quiet authority.

"First, our Sovereign’s order is absolute. None of Armand’s personnel, nor myself, will go against it. Not for anyone. Not for any reason. The Sovereign’s word is law, and we follow it without question."

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.

"Second, I am your doctor. I am the one responsible for your recovery. I am the one who will decide when you are well enough to leave this bed, when you are strong enough to stand, and when you are ready to face the world again. Until then, you will follow my instructions. No exceptions."

"And third..." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping into something colder. "It is because of our units that you are alive. Two of our soldiers risked their lives to pull you out of that collapsing tavern. One of them nearly died."

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.

"So be a good girl. Don’t even think about leaving this place without permission. Because if you cause trouble, if you try to run, if you waste the sacrifice those men made for you..." She tilted her head, her glasses catching the light. "I will personally make sure you regret it."

Fayna stared at her, her body still weak, her mind reeling. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

The woman picked up her clipboard and turned toward the door.

"By the way~ My name is Myra. Doctor Myra. And before you think about complaining, or asking for special treatment, or trying to use some excuse about being from another continent... don’t."

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes cold and sharp behind her glasses.

"I don’t care who you are. I don’t care where you come from. I don’t care what title you hold or what powers you think you have. In this facility, you are a patient. My patient. And I treat all my patients the same. With professionalism, with care, and with zero tolerance for nonsense."

She turned fully, her coat swaying with the motion.

"And honestly? I’m still angry. Two of my colleagues nearly died saving you. Garak and Marcor are good men. They’re soldiers. They follow orders. But that doesn’t mean I have to like the fact that they almost lost their lives for someone who couldn’t even protect herself."

She paused, her voice dropping into something quieter, but no less sharp.

"So forgive me if I’m not in the mood to listen to your complaints, your excuses, or whatever sob story you think will get you sympathy from me. I’m a doctor. I’m a healer. My job is to heal you. Not to be your friend. Not to comfort you. Not to hold your hand and tell you ’everything will be okay~’. I’ll do my job. You’ll follow my instructions. And when you’re well enough to leave, you’ll leave. Until then..." She opened the door. "Rest. Recover. And stay out of trouble."

She stepped out and closed the door behind her, leaving Fayna alone in the quiet room, the soft beeping of the monitoring device the only sound.

After she left the room and closed the door behind her, she paused. Her eyes landed on Marcor, who was standing outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The moment he saw her, his expression shifted.

"W... what?"

Marcor rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, lifting her slightly off the ground.

"I knew it! I knew it! I knew you felt the same way!"

"W... wha? What!?" Myra panicked, her cheeks flushing bright red. She squirmed in his grip, her clipboard pressing awkwardly against his chest. "What are you talking about? Let go of me!"

Marcor pulled back just enough to hold her by both arms, his hands gripping her shoulders gently. He looked down at her, a wide, triumphant grin on his face.

"I knew it! I knew you loved me!"

Myra’s eyes widened. Her cheeks burned even brighter. She wiggled in his grip, trying to break free.

"W... wha... No! I don’t! What are you even talking about!? Did you hit your head during that mission!? Did you suffer brain damage!? Because that’s the only explanation for you spouting nonsense like this!"

"You’re cute when you’re flustered."

"I am not flustered!" Myra hissed, her voice cracking. "I am a professional! I am a doctor! I do not get flustered by patients who escape their beds and accost me in hallways! Now let me go!"

Marcor’s grin softened. He glanced down at her eyes, his voice dropping into something low, steady, and sincere.

"Myra... I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time. A really long time. Since before I even became a soldier. I’ve watched you from afar, hoping you’d notice me. I’ve waited for you, hoping one day you’d see me the way I see you. I love you, Myra. I’ve always loved you."

Myra’s eye twitched. Her lips curled into a calm smile. She tilted her head.

"Oh, Marcor~"

"Yes?"

Her heel slammed down onto his foot.

Marcor yelped, hopping on one leg, clutching his injured foot with both hands. His face twisted in pain as he hobbled in place.

"W... what was that for!?"

Myra smiled, turned her head to the side and noticed Kalea walking toward them, her long hair swaying, her bright smile beaming.

Myra raised her hand, gesturing casually toward Marcor while keeping her eyes on Kalea.

"Kalea~ Be a dear and check his brain for damage. He’s spouting nonsense and I think his brain got fried during his last mission. And while you’re at it, check his feet. He seems to be having trouble standing properly."

Kalea tilted her head in confusion.

"Huh? Did he get hurt again?"

Myra smiled sweetly, her voice calm and light.

"Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me~"

Myra turned on her heel and walked away, her clipboard tucked neatly under her arm.

Marcor watched her retreating figure, still hopping on one leg.

"M... Myra! Wait! I’m serious! I wasn’t joking!"

( End Of Chapter )