Chapter 342. Better Annoyed at Us Than Alone With Tomorrow

Clara, however, was operating on an entirely different frequency. While others were consumed by practical supplies or emotional dread, she had already retreated into the fortress of her own intellect.

She approached William with a stack of parchment that looked less like notes and more like a military intelligence brief. Her eyes burned with that familiar, terrifying focus, the look of someone who saw the world not as people and places but as a series of interconnected data points waiting to be harvested.

"I have compiled an extensive, meticulously organized framework of inquiries," Clara stated, thrusting the pages toward him with the rigid solemnity of a high priestess delivering an ultimatum. "I require answers regarding the Delmore kingdom’s historical lineage, their current political stratigraphy, and their immediate military capacity."

"I would like to accompany you."

She didn’t wait for him to protest before continuing, her words tumbling out with clinical precision. "This is not a request for travel, Instructor Wade."

"This is a demand for documentation... and this represents a seismic diplomatic shift that warrants accurate recording."

"Firsthand observation will produce infinitely more reliable data than the contaminated secondhand accounts that inevitably follow royal court intrigue."

William took the papers, feeling the weight of her scholarly obsession. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the genuine hunger for truth behind the academic detachment.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Clara, I really do," he said, his voice dropping to a gentle but firm register. "But this isn’t a research expedition."

"It’s a potential minefield. I need you here."

"I need someone who can think clearly when the academy inevitably tries to unravel itself in our absence."

"I trust your judgment to hold this place together more than almost anyone else’s."

For a heartbeat, Clara’s composure faltered. A flash of raw, almost childlike disappointment flickered across her features before she forcibly crushed it beneath a veneer of practiced stoicism.

She straightened her spine, chin lifting.

"That is a reasonable assignment of responsibility based on operational necessity," she said, though her voice carried a sharp edge. "I accept the logical conclusion, even if I must acknowledge the personal emotional disappointment it produces."

She tapped the parchment in his hand. "Then I demand a full report upon your return."

"I want details. Don’t just tell me what was said; tell me how they stood when they said it. Include architectural observations, fortification points, escape routes, and any specifics regarding their military formation structures that you can gather without triggering a security alert."

"I’ll do my best to be your eyes and ears, Clara," William promised, tucking the dense treatise into his pack.

Olivia approached them then, cutting through the domestic chaos like a shadow passing through sunlight. Her expression was stripped of its usual guarded amusement; she looked grim, her eyes scanning the room as if expecting an assassin to materialize from the rafters.

"I’ve already activated several contacts," Olivia said quietly, leaning in so her words wouldn’t carry. "Nothing concrete has surfaced yet, but the gears are turning."

"I’ll keep digging while you’re gone."

"If the situation shifts or if something breaks, I’ll find a way to reach you... I have a method that should penetrate even the palace’s inner sanctum, assuming your quarters aren’t under constant surveillance."

"Assuming," William repeated, one eyebrow arching in skepticism. "That’s a dangerous word to rely on."

"I’d rather assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised by a miracle than assume the best and wake up with a dagger in my throat," Olivia countered sharply.

Her gaze shifted to Kaela for a moment before returning to William. "Just be careful."

"Something about that prince’s arrival... it left a foul taste in my mouth. And I’m not the type prone to unnecessary paranoia."

Throughout the entire storm of preparation, the clatter of boots, the rustle of parchment, and the frantic energy of Ellie’s packing, Kaela remained at the center of it all, performing.

She was a master of the performance, cracking off brittle jokes about an "impromptu family vacation" and complaining about how she’d missed the palace’s honeyed pastries.

But the performance was fraying at the edges.

William watched her closely. He saw the way her fingers unconsciously traced the hilt of her sword when she thought no one was looking.

He saw the way her laughter would suddenly cut off mid-breath, leaving her staring into the middle distance with eyes that looked suddenly ancient and terrified.

Each joke felt like a shield she was holding up with bleeding hands, and each forced smile was a desperate attempt to convince herself that she wasn’t walking straight into the lion’s den.

The strain was visible, a hairline fracture spreading across a marble statue, and everyone in the room knew that sooner or later, the stone would shatter.

...

The evening before departure should have been heavy with the suffocating dread of the unknown, but Lia and Catherine had other plans. They remembered with the kind of vivid, vengeful clarity that only true friends possess exactly how thoroughly Kaela had tormented them after the harem revelation days earlier.

Now, they saw their opening, and they were going to exploit it with surgical precision.

"So," Catherine began, sliding into the chair opposite Kaela with a smile so saccharine it could have given someone diabetes.

Her expression was the picture of innocence, but her eyes glinted with mischief. "A prince... Now that is what I call a dramatic plot twist."

Kaela froze mid sip of her tea, her shoulders tensing instantly.

"Please don’t," she warned, her voice dropping an octave. "I can feel the trap being set from here."

"I’m simply engaging in pleasant conversation, Kaela," Catherine said, tilting her head innocently. "It’s not every day one of our classmates receives a formal marriage proposal delivered by a full honor guard."

"It’s practically... legendary."

"It wasn’t a proposal, Vice headmaster. It was a tactical ambush," Kaela snapped, though the tips of her ears were already turning pink.

"Oh, come now," Lia chimed in from the doorway, leaning against the frame with an infuriatingly smug grin. "In this economy? That’s practically chivalry."

"The dramatic entrance, the confident declaration in front of a horrified crowd... some might call that a grand romantic gesture."

"Some might call it deeply unsettling and a violation of personal space," Kaela shot back.

She tried to sound indignant, but the conviction wasn’t there. The memory of that prince’s intense, possessive gaze still made her skin crawl with an uncomfortable electricity.

Lia wandered closer, clearly enjoying the way Kaela was squirming. "I don’t know, Kaela."

"He seemed very determined. Almost... obsessed."

"There’s something flattering about that kind of commitment. I’m sure once you get to the palace and see him without all that armor "

"I will end this conversation, Lia. Right now. With violence."

"You could be a princess of two kingdoms simultaneously," Catherine interrupted, her grin widening as she sensed the blood in the water. "Think about it."

"That’s quite an accomplishment, isn’t it? Far more impressive than accepting some dusty job offer from a Greatsword Corps commander."

Kaela’s mouth fell open, genuine outrage flooding her features. "That is exactly what I said to Lia last week!"

"You’re weaponizing my own words against me?! That is low, even for you, Vice headmaster."

"Turnabout is fair play, darling," Catherine said sweetly, taking a deliberate sip of her drink. "The universe demands balance."

"You could have your own royal seal," Lia added, emboldened by Catherine’s success. "Maybe matching crowns for the wedding ceremony."

"Something in a brilliant, ostentatious gold to complement your hair. Very regal. Very ’I own everything I survey.’"

"I don’t want a crown, Lia! I want to be able to walk down a hallway without feeling like I’m being hunted for sport!" Kaela groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

"I imagine you’ll need to master several complex Delmore court dances as well," Catherine added, her tone shifting to something mock serious that was somehow even worse. "The footwork is notoriously treacherous."

"I do hope you’re a quick study; tripping during a waltz with a prince is hardly the first impression you want to make."

"I hate both of you," Kaela muttered into her palms.

But despite the words, the venom was gone. The tightness in her chest the knot of anxiety that had been constricting her all day began to loosen.

A reluctant, exhausted smile finally cracked through her facade of indignation. "This is exactly the kind of betrayal I’d expect from people who claim to be my allies."

Lia laughed, the sound bright and genuine as she moved to sit beside Kaela. "Oh, we do care about your wellbeing, Kaela."

"That’s precisely why we’re distracting you."

"We figured it was better to let you be annoyed at us for something ridiculous than to let you sit here alone, panicking about tomorrow."

Kaela paused, blinking up at them. She saw the sincerity beneath the teasing the way Lia’s eyes softened and how Catherine’s playful smirk carried a thread of genuine concern.

They weren’t just making fun of her; they were giving her an anchor. They were giving her something real to fight against instead of the shadows of the palace.

"That’s..." Kaela started, searching for the right words before sighing. "That’s actually rather thoughtful."

"In a deeply, infuriatingly manipulative way."

"We learn from the best," Catherine said with a conspiratorial wink.