Between Your Letter and My Reply

Chapter 6

[Translation By Divinity]

Damian stared blankly at the handkerchief, then carefully folded it and tucked it into his breast pocket.

Beside him, Paul sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Phew… Thank goodness we got reinforcements before retreating. I thought we were going to be wiped out.”

Paul patted Damian’s shoulder, his face pale as a sheet.

“I’m sorry about your platoon members who died… Take good care of the new recruits.”

“I understand. Don’t worry. This is a common occurrence.”

It was true that losing an entire platoon was common, but it didn’t mean there was no emotional pain. Damian looked like he could step into a coffin right then and there.

Paul forced himself to speak, trying to change the subject.

“So… I see you’re doing well with the pen pal exchange?”

Damian’s face turned serious as he quickly stuffed two letters into his jacket pocket. Paul narrowed his eyes, observing him. ‘Oh, look at this guy?’

“Let the new recruits rest today. Get them in shape so they can start working tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Damian nodded, and Paul, who also looked haggard though not as much as Damian, left to find another task.

Paul had said to let them rest, but unfortunately, the situation on the front lines didn’t allow for that. As soon as the new recruits arrived, Damian had them unpacking their belongings and digging trenches.

He sat a few steps away and opened another letter from Lintray.

[To the exceedingly wise Second Lieutenant McCord.

Taking pictures of the puppies, I hadn’t thought of that! You’re right. I need to capture more of their cuteness while it lasts. But unfortunately, when I took out my camera after a long time, it was broken. So I sent it for repairs. They said it would take about three days. I hope the puppies don’t grow up so much in that time that I won’t recognize them! I wish they would stay this small forever!

Speaking of pictures, once the camera is fixed, should I send you photos of the puppies and myself? Aren’t you curious about what I look like? It’s a bit shameless of me to say this, but I’ve been told I’m pretty quite often.

Even though Edenfallen is a tiny village, I think I’d be among the top two or three beauties here. I could aim for the top spot, but a lady’s virtue is modesty, so I’ll leave that position to another lovely lady.]

Damian paused while reading the letter, his eyes lingering on the part where Lintray mentioned sending him a picture.

Honestly, he was curious about what she looked like. He almost nodded in agreement when she offered to send a photo.

Damian was surprised by his own desire. It had only been two months since they started exchanging letters. Considering the mail delivery time, they had exchanged even fewer actual conversations. But wanting to receive her picture…

Having someone’s photo in a war meant relying on that photo. Damian didn’t want to rely on anyone anymore.

After his experience with his seemingly decent sponsor, who turned out to be his wretched father, relying on someone felt like inviting betrayal.

‘Do I want to rely on Lintray?’

He then remembered burying his face in the handkerchief Lintray had sent him earlier that day. And his last letter asking her to spray perfume…

‘I guess I’m exhausted too.’

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

He needed to acknowledge that he wasn’t in a good state, rather than denying his need for comfort.

A few days ago, when all his platoon members except him were killed, he genuinely wanted to die with them. Every time he went to send a letter to Lintray, he missed Tennant’s grinning face beside him.

Tennant’s injury was Code Black – a fatal injury beyond treatment.

Damian had granted Tennant peace instead of letting him suffer. He had buried Tennant’s body with his own hands.

During intense battles, there was no time or opportunity to transport bodies back home. Instead, they erected temporary wooden grave markers on the soldiers’ graves so they could be found and sent home after the war.

Right after that, he had returned to the barracks in a semi-panic and written a nonsensical letter to Lintray.

‘That was truly pathetic.’

Damian chuckled wryly.

Holding the perfume-infused handkerchief Lintray had sent, he regained some composure but then clutched his head, berating himself for being so pathetic.

He took the handkerchief out of his jacket pocket again. It was a white cloth, sturdier than usual, perhaps in consideration of Damian being a soldier. The edges were adorned with embroidered rose vines, and one corner was stitched with the name “McCord.”

He wished it were his real name, but McCord sounded more plausible than the ridiculous surname Stern.

‘How foolish.’

Despite his self-deprecation, he carefully folded the handkerchief and placed it back in his breast pocket. Then he continued reading the letter.

[Actually, I’m really, really curious about what you look like, Lieutenant. But since you’re even using a pseudonym, I doubt you’ll show me your face. It’s a shame, but I’ll endure. Still… I’d be happy if you sent me a photo.]

This time, she was asking for his picture. Damian made his decision without hesitation.

He would never give her a photo. Having a picture would only make her attached to him, and he didn’t want her to get that attached to a soldier who could die at any moment.

Besides, it seemed like she hadn’t asked with much expectation, so he felt no guilt.

[By the way, you grew up in an orphanage. I wondered about your story when you said you didn’t like talking about family, but now I understand. As I mentioned before, I also lost my mother. Actually, um… my family situation is a bit complicated too, but since prying into family matters is uncomfortable for both of us, I’ll keep it short.

But sometimes, I want to vent to someone. I don’t have anyone like that. Do you ever feel that way, Lieutenant? If you do, I can be a good listener. I’m always ready to listen, so don’t hesitate.

Pen pals are wonderful. It’s amazing that I, someone who rarely leaves Edenfallen, can have conversations with a lieutenant fighting in a war in a distant land.

Yes, I’m a country bumpkin. I’ve been to the capital less than five times in my life, and the city I lived in before moving to Edenfallen was also far from the capital. That’s why I enjoy talking to you, Lieutenant, who lives in a completely different environment. It’s fascinating.

And we’re not that far apart in age, are you? Yet we’re so different. It makes me realize the world is vast and full of diverse people. That’s why I applied for a pen pal! So please tell me a lot about the things you know. Show me the world I don’t know. It doesn’t matter if it’s heaven or hell. I’m the type of person who wants to know everything I don’t.]

[To Lady Lintray, the world’s biggest glutton for knowledge.

I’m an idiot… I told you, didn’t I? Men my age are all idiots. That’s why I sent you that idiotic letter. I’m sorry. But just as you didn’t stop interacting with Glenn, you didn’t stop exchanging letters with me either, so please bear with my idiocy.

I was having a hard time the day I sent that idiotic letter. I wasn’t drunk, but I was in such a bad state that being drunk seemed preferable. I wasn’t physically injured; it was just a mental issue. I’ve recovered now, and I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.

I received the handkerchief. What kind of perfume is this? I don’t know much about perfumes or scents, but I like it. It’s really hard to smell flowers in the middle of this harsh battlefield. And about this handkerchief, did you prepare it beforehand, since you sent it right away?

Even though it’s a pseudonym, my name is embroidered on it. You could have made it in a day if you’re fast with your hands, but the fabric is sturdier than the ones ladies usually use, and the embroidery looks hand-stitched, so I’m curious. But I probably won’t use it because I’m afraid the scent will fade. I’ll treasure it.

And I don’t want to see your face. I know that sounds incredibly rude, but I couldn’t think of a better way to say it, so I apologize for being so blunt.]