Chapter 341. An Exhausted Warrior Is Just a Corpse That Hasn’t Stopped Moving

The following morning did not arrive with the gentle promise of sunrise; it broke over the academy like a cold blade. The usual morning routine the distant clang of practice swords and the chatter of students was severed by an urgent knock at the administrative hall.

A formal messenger, bearing the rigid posture of a career soldier, delivered a letter that seemed to carry its own gravitational pull.

When Kaela saw the seal pressed into the crimson wax, she froze. Her face drained of color, the blood retreating as if sensing the implications before her mind could fully process them.

"That’s my father’s seal," she whispered, her voice cracking like thin ice.

She stared at it with an expression caught in a violent tug of war between desperate relief and a new, sharper kind of terror. "The actual royal seal."

"The Sun and Scepter. Not some prince’s personal crest."

Her fingers trembled visibly as she broke the wax, the sound of the parchment tearing echoing too loudly in the sudden silence of the room. As her eyes raced across the lines, her breathing became shallow and uneven.

William watched her with the predatory focus of a soldier reading a battlefield; he noticed how her pupils dilated, how her throat constricted mid swallow, and how her gaze snagged on a specific passage, forcing her to reread it three times as if hoping the words would rearrange themselves into something kinder.

"What does it say?" Ellie asked, her voice soft but laced with unmistakable dread.

Kaela didn’t answer immediately. She seemed to be gathering the fragments of her composure from the floor.

"I’m being summoned home," she finally said, the words coming out slow and measured, as if each syllable carried physical weight. "Immediately..."

"My father wants to explain everything in person." She paused, her head snapping up to meet William’s eyes. "And apparently... he’s specifically requesting that you accompany me."

"As my personal instructor."

William blinked, the shock momentarily breaking his disciplined facade. "Me? Specifically?"

"By name, Instructor Wade," Kaela confirmed, her voice gaining a strange, hollow steadiness as she scanned the text again. "’William Wade, Instructor, is requested to accompany Princess Kaela Aurelius for the duration of this visit to ensure her safety and provide immediate tactical counsel.’"

Albert, who had been summoned to review the letter with the detached authority of a seasoned statesman, leaned over the table. He studied the document not as a message, but as a puzzle.

His usually impassive face settled into something deeply contemplative. He read it twice, his lips moving silently, his eyes lingering on certain phrases with the intensity of someone hunting for hidden traps.

He murmured something under his breath too low for anyone to catch before setting the parchment down with deliberate care.

"That is a calculated choice of wording," Albert said finally, his voice carrying the gravity of a funeral dirge. "Kings do not request specific individuals by name unless they are attempting to bypass standard protocol."

"Formal royal summons are deliberately vague; they list titles and positions to maintain an air of detached authority."

"To name you specifically, William, means the King has already decided that the standard royal guard is insufficient."

"You think he already suspects how badly I’m going to react," Kaela said quietly, her fingers curling into fists against the tabletop.

"I think," Albert said, tilting his head as he examined the implications, "that whatever your father intends to reveal, he considers it dangerous enough to require a familiar face and a trained blade at your side."

"That alone should tell you something about its severity." He tapped a finger against the bottom of the page. "There is also this phrase here, near the signature: ’Matters requiring both discretion and trust.’"

Albert looked up, his eyes meeting Kaela’s. "That isn’t diplomatic language, Princess."

"That isn’t the language of a King speaking to his subject, but that is the language of a father speaking to a daughter he is afraid to disappoint or afraid to lose."

"That’s not reassuring, Headmaster Albert," Kaela snapped, though there was no heat in it, only exhaustion. "Like... At all."

"I didn’t intend it to be reassuring," Albert replied gently, though his expression remained grim. "I intended it to be honest."

"Given the wolves already circling your position, I believe you deserve honesty more than false comfort."

Kaela nodded slowly, the movement mechanical, as if her neck could barely support the weight of the crown she wasn’t even wearing. The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her skin pale and sallow beneath the flickering torchlight.

The reality of the summons wasn’t just a letter anymore; it was a trap snapping shut around her ankles.

"I’ll go," William said.

His voice was flat, stripped of hesitation, the kind of certainty that only comes from someone who has already decided how many bodies he’s willing to leave behind. "Obviously."

Kaela let out a breath, a shuddering, broken sound that seemed to escape from somewhere deep in her chest. "Thank you, Instructor Wade. Truly."

"I don’t think I could face whatever’s waiting for me or whatever hell he’s prepared without someone in my corner who actually understands how to read a room properly." Her eyes flickered to his, searching for something she couldn’t quite name. "Someone who knows when a smile is just a prelude to a dagger."

"That’s what I’m here for," William replied, his gaze steady. "Among other things."

Albert cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the charged air like a blade. "I’ll arrange for a carriage to depart at first light tomorrow."

"In the meantime, Princess Kaela, I would strongly suggest you seek whatever rest you can manage tonight."

"Whatever tomorrow holds, you will need a clear mind and a steady hand."

"An exhausted warrior is simply a corpse that hasn’t stopped moving yet."

"Easier said than done," Kaela admitted, her fingers tracing the rough grain of the table. "But I’ll try."

As soon as the official discussion dissolved, word of the sudden departure began to ripple through their circle like wildfire. The reaction arrived not as a quiet understanding but as a wave of overlapping, well-meaning, and utterly chaotic energy.

"You’ll need considerably more supplies than you’re currently planning to bring!" Ellie exclaimed, appearing suddenly as if summoned by the mere mention of travel.

She began counting items off on her fingers with increasing urgency, her eyes wide with a practical sort of panic. "Extra bandages, heavy-duty ones, not those thin linen strips, in case of lacerations or worse."

"Something for motion sickness, because those royal carriages have suspension that feels like being thrown against a stone wall."

"A spare cloak, wool-lined, in case the mountain passes turn cold."

"Actually, I should pack two cloaks, one for you and one for Instructor Wade, just in case, and dried rations, protein-heavy rations, because if the palace kitchens try to poison you with bland fish or worse..."

"Ellie, breathe," Kaela interrupted, though there was a genuine, unguarded warmth in her voice that softened the command. "It’s a diplomatic visit to a royal palace, not an expedition into the Forbidden Wastes."

"You don’t know that for certain, and that’s exactly why I’m doing this!" Ellie shot back stubbornly, already spinning on her heel and darting toward the supply room with the focused intensity of a soldier charging a breach. "Better prepared than sorry!"

"Don’t you dare move until I’ve properly inventoried your satchel!"

Kaela watched her go, a fond, exasperated shake of her head accompanying the movement. "She’s going to pack me an entire second wardrobe and half the academy’s apothecary, isn’t she?"

"Almost certainly," William said, a rare, genuine grin breaking through his usual stoicism. "For what it’s worth, I don’t mind."

"I’d rather carry an extra three pounds of bandages than find myself bleeding out because I forgot to pack a tourniquet."

Kaela arched an eyebrow at him. "You sound suspiciously like Ellie."

"I’ve apparently absorbed some of her neuroticism by proximity," William admitted with a shrug. "It happens to everyone here."

"Even Clara has caught me narrating my training drills out loud lately, like I’m dictating instructions for some unseen student."

Kaela laughed, and for a moment, the sound was bright enough to push back the shadows gathering in the corners of the room. "This academy has a way of rubbing off on people."

"It’s infectious. I’ve started counting kills during hunts, something I used to do privately, and now Lia does it too, almost unconsciously during sparring.

"She’ll land a blow and whisper ’three’ under her breath before she even realizes she’s said it."

"That’s either deeply concerning or oddly wholesome... I haven’t decided which," William mused.

"Welcome to my daily experience of this place," Kaela said.

She straightened her shoulders, and for one fleeting, precious moment, standing there amid the frantic clatter of packing and the low hum of evening preparations, something almost like her old, easy confidence flickered back into place.

The storm was coming, but for now, she was still standing.