Between Your Letter and My Reply

Chapter 8

[Translation By Divinity]

Damian felt uneasy imagining a 21-year-old lady he knew only by name crying her eyes out. That’s why he had warned her against getting attached, but Lintray hadn’t listened.

‘Whether she cries or not, it’s not my responsibility… or is it?’

Damian rubbed his face. Lintray’s scolding had left him reeling, unable to write a long letter.

He put down his fountain pen and headed straight to Paul’s room. Paul greeted him with a surprised look after he knocked and entered.

“What brings you here?”

“Do you remember the photos we took the other day?”

“Photos? What photos?”

“The war correspondent took some pictures while interviewing us and gave us copies. Those photos.”

“Oh, yeah. They’re around here somewhere. Why?”

“Can I see them?”

Damian waved his hand impatiently. Paul, seeing this unfamiliar behavior, was too bewildered to ask why and simply rummaged through the piles of documents.

“Ah, here they are.”

Paul handed Damian an envelope containing several photos. Damian skimmed through them and picked one out.

“Can I take this one?”

Paul nodded after checking the photo Damian was holding. Damian put it in the envelope for Lintray’s letter and saluted Paul.

“Thank you!”

“Sure, no problem…”

Paul watched Damian walk away with an unusually brisk pace, feeling puzzled.

[Therefore, I’m enclosing my photo. So please don’t get on that train to Lebe.

One handkerchief is enough. After all, the value of something lies in its uniqueness, and I don’t want to diminish the value of this handkerchief. And although I don’t know if it’s possible through effort alone, I’ll try my best not to die in battle.

October 3rd, 1878. Second Lieutenant McCord, whose heart has shrunk thanks to you.

P.S. I’m sending this by express delivery too. Did it arrive earlier than the last one?]

Damian hurriedly sent the letter and retreated into the trenches like he was running away.

Exactly one week later,

When Lady Lintray’s letter arrived, Damian hesitated to open it. Because…

[To the despicable and cowardly Second Lieutenant McCord.

Sending a group photo? How utterly devious!]

As expected, the first line was filled with accusations.

Damian looked up at the sky and gave a wry smile. ‘Well, I knew this would happen, but I did give her what she wanted.’

[Asking me to find you among twenty people? You could at least tell me which row and which person you are! And if you were going to send a group photo, you should have sent a large one where I could actually see faces, not a palm-sized one! I can’t tell anyone apart except for the fact that they all have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth! You know that’s not what I wanted! I guess I’ll have to buy that train ticket to Lebe after all.]

Damian tried to ignore the letter but changed his mind and continued reading.

[No, wait. If you’re reluctant to give me a photo because you’re insecure about your looks… then I apologize for my lack of consideration. But it’s okay. I believe a person’s inner self is more important than their appearance. I can accept you no matter what you look like.]

‘That’s not it.’

[Anyway, I appreciate you partially fulfilling my request for a photo. But remember, I’m always ready to buy that train ticket to Lebe.]

Damian chuckled at Lintray’s threat, or rather, her attempt at one.

[Since things have turned out this way, I’ll try to find you in the photo. Hmm… Second row, fifth from the left? This person seems to match the image I have of you from your letters. Am I right?

October 7th, 1878. Lintray, confident in her deduction skills.]

Damian burst into laughter, something he rarely did. The person Lintray had pointed out had a personality completely opposite to his.

Sergeant Colt, the one Lintray had chosen, was blond and handsome, and unlike the somewhat aloof Damian, he was incredibly friendly.

‘Well, I admit Colt is likable.’

Damian put her letter into the folder where he kept her other letters. He took out a piece of paper, tapped his pen for a moment, and began to write his reply.

[To Lady Lintray, who seems quite dissatisfied.

I’m quite offended that you can’t recognize me in the group photo I sent. What kind of image do you have of me that you’d think I’d look like that arrogant guy with just a decent face? I’m afraid you might have the wrong idea, so I’ll give you a special hint: just assume the most handsome person in the photo is me. Believe it or not, I’ve never been called ugly.]

Damian was surprised by his own shamelessness. It seemed Tennant’s compliment about his looks had gone to his head.

[By the way, I’m curious. What do you imagine me to look like?

October 11th, 1878. From the handsome Second Lieutenant McCord.]

[To Second Lieutenant McCord, who is quite confident in his looks.

Oh, since you gave me such a confident hint, I can’t help but deduce that you’re the third person from the left in the top row. But even then, I don’t think that’s you, Lieutenant. You’re twenty, but this person looks over thirty.]

‘Hmm, I guess I’m not as good-looking as Sergeant Benas.’

‘Even though he’s handsome, even in my eyes, I never thought he was the most handsome.’

[The way I imagine you, Lieutenant… you’d have well-defined features, but not too sharp, so as not to give a strong impression. You’d be moderately masculine, a young man who has just shed his boyish image. I thought you might have blond hair, but based on what you’ve said, it’s probably a different color. Maybe light brown? And your eyes would be olive green? You’d also have a sincere look on your face. That sincerity probably contributed to your quick promotion. So, combining all these images, I looked for you in the photo… but you’re not there! There’s no one who fits that description! So you were being sneaky and gave me a photo without you in it! Oh my, how could you! So, what do you think of my deduction?

October 15th, 1878. Lintray, who wants to be called a detective this time.]

No. Damian was definitely the fourth from the right in the first row.

He couldn’t help but laugh again.

Just then, the bell signaling dinner rang, and Damian got up instead of writing a reply. He ran into Paul, who had come out at the same time. Damian gave a brief salute and asked,

“Major, what do you think I look like?”

Paul looked at him as if he had heard the strangest thing. It was unexpected and even a bit creepy for Damian to ask such a question, especially to him.

So he shrugged without much thought.

“You’re handsome.”

Damian frowned at the casual answer.

“No, not that. I mean my image, my impression, things like that.”

Paul replied again without much thought.

“You have an unapproachable face.”

“What kind of face is that?”

“Your expression doesn’t change much, so it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking. You also look stubborn.”

“So, what kind of features create that impression…?”

“Look in the mirror. You have one. By the way, why are you suddenly asking about this?”

When Paul asked back, Damian fell silent and walked on, looking straight ahead. Paul nudged him in the side and said,

“A woman? It’s a woman, isn’t it?”

Damian rubbed his face. He couldn’t understand why both Tennant and Paul assumed every question he asked was about a woman. But he couldn’t deny it, so he had nothing more to say.