Aurein's POV
The moon was still high in the sky when we arrived at the training grounds, yet the General's warriors were already assembled—lined up in perfect formation, still as statues, waiting for their commander's word.
I took my place at the very front, standing dead center. Dante stood to my left, Asper to my right, and Ton-Ton positioned loyally behind me.
"Good morning, Prince Aurein," Ton-Ton greeted, his voice carrying a sleepy warmth.
"Prince Aurein," Dante said with a small smile and a respectful nod.
"I wonder, what unexpected thing would happen today, Prince Aurein," Asper added. "I hope everything will be okay."
"That, I'm not sure of." I said, genuinely delighted. "But I'm looking forward to it."
Even though they addressed me formally, their eyes revealed something softer—kindness, sincerity, a quiet intention to treat me as a friend. And that alone made my chest feel lighter.
"Did I say any of you were allowed to chatter?"
General Voltaire's voice cracked through the morning air like a whip. Instinctively, we all straightened our backs at once.
Yup. That was him—the same immovable General Voltaire who lived and breathed duty, responsibility, and absolutely zero room for distraction. Clearly, this man felt nothing toward me. Not even the smallest spark.
Maybe that was for the best.
If he showed no hint of attraction, I could stop myself from feeding this ridiculous, forbidden feeling growing inside me.
In my eyes, I should only see him as the General—never someone I wanted to be close with. Never someone I wanted to—
"As usual," he said, scanning all of us with that unreadable gaze, "we start with laps. I was planning on five... but since the four of you thought chatting was good exercise—" he pointed directly at us "—ten laps. Each. Anyone who complains gets thirty."
Not a single soul dared to breathe too loudly.
"Prince Aurein!" he barked suddenly.
"Yes?" I squeaked.
"Any complaints?"
"N-no..." I said, my voice shrinking.
"I can't hear you!"
"No complaints, General!" I said quickly.
"Good. Start running toward the lake."
"Wait!"
A familiar voice cut through the tension. We all turned.
Rowan approached, wearing his own pristine training gear, looking almost too elegant for this place.
I glanced toward General Voltaire. His jaw tightened—annoyed, though trying to hide it.
"What are you doing here, Rowan?" I asked.
"I figured... I might join your training today, Aurein. I don't have anything else to do," he said casually.
"A-are you sure?" I asked nervously.
Because at that exact moment, General Voltaire looked as though someone handed him a problem he absolutely did NOT want to deal with.
"It's alright, isn't it, General Voltaire?" Rowan asked politely.
"If you can handle it, Lord Rowan." the General said, voice cold, clipped, and firm—an attempt to maintain dominance despite Rowan's higher social status.
"I can. I undergo intense training back home," Rowan said confidently.
Why does it feel like these two hate each other?
Are they fighting behind my back?
Do they glare at each other when I'm not around?
"Very well," General Voltaire said. "Forty laps. For everyone."
Everyone—including me—froze.
"Thanks a lot, Rowan," I muttered.
"Forty? Isn't that a bit much?" Rowan asked, bewildered.
"Why? Can't handle it, Lord Rowan?" the General said with a sharp edge. "Even our little Prince can run forty laps."
Rowan stared at me in surprise.
I nodded shyly.
"Wow... I didn't know you had such amazing endurance," he said.
"Well... I didn't know either," I said with an awkward laugh.
He smiled at me before turning back to the General, determined to maintain courtesy. "You'll be running with us, right, General Voltaire?"
Dante, Asper, Ton-Ton, and I exchanged looks of pure panic.
We didn't speak, but we all knew.
Rowan... just challenged the General.
And General Voltaire never backed down.
"It's only right that you run with us," Rowan said calmly. "For all forty laps."
"If that's what will make you happy, Lord Rowan," the General replied.
I was right. My General—
No, stupid brain! I mean THE General—was absolutely going to fight back.
"You claimed you have intense training in the Southern Region..." General Voltaire said slowly. "Then we can raise it to fifty."
"Fifty?! Are you trying to kill us?!" I burst out.
"No. Not you. All of you will stay at forty. Lord Rowan and I will do fifty," he said.
"I accept," Rowan replied politely without hesitation.
I stared at them, stunned.
"Prince Aurein... should we stop them?" Ton-Ton whispered.
"Why would I?" I asked.
"If they keep going, we might get dragged into their competition," Asper said nervously.
"And who knows, the General might make things harder," Dante added.
I sighed deeply.
True.
"Don't worry, if he pushes too far, I'll complain first," I whispered and winked at them.
They all exhaled in relief.
Then—Swoosh.
The General shrugged off his upper training gear.
Moonlight washed over the chiseled lines of his torso, every sculpted muscle carved in sharp silver. My brain short-circuited for a moment.
Swoosh.
Rowan removed his as well—toned, impressive, but undeniably overshadowed by the General's imposing build.
"Shall we begin?" General Voltaire said before breaking into a steady run.
Rowan followed immediately, refusing to fall behind.
The rest of us began running after them.
"Forty laps... can I survive this?" Ton-Ton whimpered.
"You don't have to run all forty. The General will be focused on beating Rowan," I said.
"No one will cheat! Forty laps for EVERYONE! Even if I'm not looking, don't dare do it!"
The General's voice boomed across the field—perfectly timed, as if he had heard Ton-Ton's tiny whisper.
"I'm dead," Ton-Ton groaned.
"We can do this. If Prince Aurein can run forty laps, so can we," Dante said.
"Right. We have to keep up," Asper added.
"O-okay! I'll do my best too!" Ton-Ton declared, suddenly burning with determination.
I smiled.
They didn't know the truth.
The only reason I ran forty laps yesterday...was because I was furious.
Furious at the girls who kept flirting with General Voltaire! And also, because he likes the attention he's getting from them!
* * *
The sun had finally begun to rise, casting long amber beams across the training grounds. Warm rays struck our backs as we pushed through the final leg of our laps. Sweat clung to our skin, our breaths came out ragged, and every muscle in my body trembled—yet none of us were as drained as poor Ton-Ton.
At this point, he wasn't even running anymore. He was merely walking, if not swaying, and the three of us—Asper, Dante, and I—were practically dragging his exhausted body forward.
"Just one more lap, Ton-Ton! We can make it!" Dante said as he pushed him by the shoulders.
"I'm starving..." Ton-Ton whimpered, eyes glossy with the threat of tears.
"Honestly, pushing your entire body feels harder than running forty laps," Asper panted.
"Go, Ton-Ton! Go! At least you've made it this far!" I said. "I'll reward you with good food after this."
Ton-Ton suddenly perked up. "Really, Prince Aurein?" he said, already sounding revived.
"Yes," I said firmly.
And then—miracle of miracles—he burst forward on his own, running faster than he had in the last ten laps.
"I guess food truly is his fuel," I said, laughing breathlessly.
"Is Ton-Ton the only one getting delicious food, Prince Aurein?" Dante asked hopefully.
"Of course not. All of you," I said with a smile.
"Wow! Thank you, Prince Aurein!" Asper said. "I just hope Ton-Ton doesn't eat everything."
* * *
After several painfully slow minutes, we finally finished our required forty laps. We collapsed instantly, sprawled across the ground like corpses drained of their souls—breaths shallow, limbs trembling.
While we lay dying on the soil, General Voltaire and Rowan were still running.
Side by side.
Focused.
Unstoppable.
Neither of them appeared the slightest bit tired. It looked like they had enough energy to run for eternity if they wanted.
As they ran past us, I overheard their conversation—even though neither bothered to look at the other.
"You surprised me. I thought you wouldn't last this long, Lord Rowan," General Voltaire said, voice perfectly composed, as if he hadn't just run fifty laps.
"Don't underestimate me, General Voltaire," Rowan said. I could hear the faint wheeze in his breath despite his attempt to hide it.
"Care to do ten more rounds?" the General challenged.
Rowan didn't answer immediately.
"Scared?" General Voltaire asked.
"No. I'm not. I can do it," Rowan said—though I could feel his hesitation. But he had no room to back down. Not after being challenged.
"I feel like they'll reach a hundred laps at this rate," Asper muttered.
"Let them," I grumbled. "If that's what makes them happy. Just pray they don't drag us into their childish rivalry."
Minutes later, the two finally completed their sixty-lap madness. Rowan collapsed onto the ground immediately, chest heaving violently. Meanwhile, General Voltaire remained standing, not even out of breath, looking like someone who had merely taken a casual morning stroll.
"This wasn't even intense," the General said. "Yet it looks like you're already about to give up."
Rowan couldn't even speak; he merely lay there panting.
I quickly knelt beside him.
"Are you okay, Rowan?" I asked, breathlessly worried.
"Yes, Aurein... I'm okay now," he said with a shaky but gentle smile.
"Since you're fine," General Voltaire said, "let's begin the real training."
"General! Can you please let us rest first?" I snapped irritably. "All of us are still tired. We don't have your monstrous endurance."
He sighed deeply.
"I must say, I'm disappointed," he said. "Warriors don't get to rest in war. The enemy won't stop until they succeed. Even if you're exhausted, you must push forward."
"I know, General. But can you let us breathe for a moment?" I said, glaring.
Another sigh.
"Fine. Half an hour," he said.
"Thank you," I said with exaggerated irritation, eyes wide.
"My pleasure," he said, purposely teasing.
Rowan tugged gently at my sleeve.
"Can I... lay my head on your lap?" he asked.
"Yup, come here," I said, helping him settle down.
He rested his head on my thigh, breathing heavily as I wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Just rest for a bit," I said softly.
"Thank you, Aurein," he said, smiling weakly.
That was when I heard a low chuckle.
I looked up.
General Voltaire was smirking—shaking his head as if amused.
"What's your problem now?" I asked sharply.
"This is why royalty like you rely too much on us warriors," he said. "Even a simple run drains you."
My eyes narrowed.
I opened my mouth to argue, but Rowan stopped me with a gentle hand.
"No need to fight back, Aurein," he said. "He may be right. We depend on them too much. We forget to strengthen ourselves... forget to build endurance."
I sighed.
He wasn't wrong.
"That's why we must stay cautious," Rowan said quietly. "In case one day, they turn their loyalty against us. They—like General Voltaire—know how much stronger they are. Remember what I told you..."
My chest tightened.
The rebellion he warned me about.
I looked toward General Voltaire.
He showed no reaction.
He simply glanced at me, expression unreadable, then turned away.
"I'll be gone for a moment," he said. "I'll go plan a rebellion against the kingdom. Don't follow me."
And he walked away.
Rowan's face paled.
"See? He might really be an enemy in disguise, Aurein," he said.
I chuckled softly.
"Are you not scared? Aren't you worried about what he just said?" he asked.
I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them with calm certainty.
"No. I trust General Voltaire with all of my heart," I said. "He may say things like that, but he doesn't mean them. He's just teasing us."
"But still—be careful. Don't put your complete trust in him. We never know what he's plotting," Rowan said. "Right now, he doesn't even give respect to you. Who knows, once you become the King, he might take over since he is already aware of what you can and cannot do."
"Don't worry," I said. "If he ever crosses the line, he will deal with me personally. And he should fear that day."
"You think you can outdo him? When he clearly thinks he's stronger than you?" Rowan asked.
I smirked.
"Remember last night? He fetched cold water for me when I wanted it. I can outdo him anytime."
"Fair enough," Rowan said with a soft laugh. "Still... if anything happens, tell me. I'm here to protect you. I even stayed in the Central Region just to be with you. After seeing how he treats you, I couldn't leave you alone with him."
"I told you, there's no need to worry about me," I said. "I can handle myself very well."
"Prince Aurein, water for you," Dante said as he handed me a container filled to the brim.
"Thanks, Dante," I said, smiling gratefully. Asper and Ton-Ton soon joined us, tired but relieved.
"You're welcome. We got one for you too, Lord Rowan," Dante added.
Rowan pushed himself upright and accepted the water.
"Thank you," he said, taking a careful sip.
"Oh, by the way, Rowan," I said, suddenly remembering, "I want you to know their names. This is Dante, Asper, and Ton-Ton. They're the ones I talk to the most here in the army—and we treat each other as friends."
"Nice to meet you all," Rowan said, looking at them with a warm smile.
"If you need anything, just tell us, Lord Rowan," Dante said politely.
"Okay," Rowan replied with a nod.
"Prince Aurein, I hope you still remember your promise about the food, alright?" Ton-Ton inserted eagerly.
"Have some shame, Ton-Ton!" Asper muttered.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" I said, laughing. "But I need to return to the palace so I can inform the servants. However, I'm sure General Voltaire won't let me leave."
"Don't worry, I'll handle it," Rowan said. "I'll head back to the palace and let the servants know about your request. I'll make sure to bring food for everyone."
"Really? That's great!" I said, eyes lighting up.
"General Voltaire won't care if I leave for a while. I'm not part of his army, so it's better if I'm the one to go," Rowan said. He then turned to the three warriors. "And since you treat Aurein well while he stays here, I'll give you extra food and beer as a reward." He winked.
"Wow! Good thing you're kind too, Lord Rowan!" Ton-Ton said happily. "We won't have to eat grilled meat today—the same thing we've been eating every single day!"
Rowan smiled. "Well, I treat someone nicely if they treat Aurein nicely."
"Yes—and Prince Aurein is kind to us," Asper said. "He always inspires us. That's why we like him."
"Asper is right," Dante added. "He makes us feel we're not less just because we're commoners."
"Oh, guys, stop it... you're making me embarrassed," I said, laughing despite the warmth in my chest.
"I'm glad you all treat Aurein well," Rowan said. "In that case, you have my trust. And I hope to earn yours too."
"For sure! We can totally see you're kind too, Lord Rowan," Ton-Ton said. "You're like Prince Aurein—you don't look down on us."
"Thank you," Rowan said with a gentle smile. Then he stood. "I'll head back to the palace. I'll return with lots of food."
"Nice!" all three chimed excitedly.
Rowan brushed the dust off his training gear, waved goodbye, and headed off.
"It's good having royalty like you and Lord Rowan here," Asper said. "We feel trusted... and welcome."
"Yup. Rowan's really nice," I said, smiling. "And I'm glad you're getting along with him—just like me."
* * *
Minutes later, the stern shadow of General Voltaire reappeared.
"Break is over. We begin sword training," he ordered.
We were just about to stand when suddenly—the clattering of wheels broke through the air.
A line of female servants entered, pushing metal trolleys that steamed with the rich, unmistakable scent of freshly cooked food.
"What's this?" General Voltaire asked, frowning.
"I can smell it already!" Ton-Ton squealed, his eyes sparkling.
"Oh, Ton-Ton, slow down," Asper whispered, grabbing his right arm. "Dante, hold the other arm before he rushes in and eats everything!"
"Yeah, before he wipes the entire trolley," Dante joked.
"As promised, I've returned with food," Rowan said as he appeared behind the servants.
The women lifted the metal lids in unison, and waves of savory aroma filled the air—glazed meats, seasoned vegetables, rice steamed to perfection. The sight alone made every stomach growl.
"Everyone, please help yourselves," Rowan said, presenting the feast proudly.
People took one step—but before another foot could land—
"STOP."
General Voltaire's voice slammed through the air like a blade.
"What is this?!" he demanded angrily.
"Can't you see?" Rowan said, trying to remain composed. "It's food. For everyone."
"No one eats," General Voltaire said sharply.
Silence fell.
Heavy, suffocating.
The warriors—hungry, aching, hopeful—froze mid-step.
"They're starving," Rowan said. "The best way to make them feel alive again is to let them eat proper food. What were you planning to give them? The same grilled meat every day? In my place, we don't treat our warriors like that. We value them. We feed them well."
I glanced at General Voltaire.
His expression was cold. Controlled. And clearly irritated.
Oh no...
"What are you waiting for? Ton-Ton, Asper, Dante—your food is here," Rowan said encouragingly.
But the three didn't move.
Even with hunger twisting in their stomachs.
Even though Ton-Ton looked seconds away from fainting. They looked at General Voltaire.
He didn't budge.
"We will proceed with training," the General said firmly.
"No," Rowan said, voice suddenly commanding. "I demand they eat first. I, Lord Rowan, am ordering all warriors here to eat."
My heart dropped.
I wanted to hide behind Ton-Ton, cover my eyes, pretend I wasn't witnessing this clash of authority.
"I am their General," Voltaire said, voice cold as steel. "So I will command them. I decide what they do, what benefits them, and when they eat."
"Yes, you are their General," Rowan said. "And I acknowledge that. But do not forget—I outrank you. So I command every warrior here to come and eat."
General Voltaire said nothing.
He simply crossed his arms and stared at the feast with an icy expression.
A silent wall of disapproval.
Rowan frowned, confused.
"Everyone? Why are you still standing? The food is here," he said.
But no one—not even Ton-Ton, who practically had tears in his eyes—moved a single inch.
Because they were all afraid of the General.
"You see," General Voltaire said, his voice firm but quiet, "these men will follow me—even if you imply your status is higher than mine. They know where their loyalty belongs."
Rowan exhaled deeply, as if forcing the tension out of his chest.
"Aurein," he said, trying to steady his tone, "if I can't command these warriors... I know for a fact that you can."
I drew in a long breath and looked toward General Voltaire. His face remained forward, stoic, chiseled with focus—yet only his eyes slid toward me.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
My stomach twisted anyway.
To be honest, the moment I saw the food laid out earlier, I nearly drooled. I was starving. My whole body screamed to eat. And I couldn't deny that I was itching—desperate—to finally taste something delicious.
But this was General Voltaire.
And whenever he was this serious, even I—the prince who always speak bluntly—felt a chill at the thought of defying him.
Should I at least try?
If I asked—politely—if we could eat... would he agree?
But, as far as I know, he never bent his rules, not even for me. Especially when it came to his warriors' discipline.
However, as I looked at the faces of the warriors—pale, drained, trembling slightly from hunger—I felt something heavy rise inside my chest. They weren't just hungry; they were afraid to disobey him.
And I... I had to do something.
This wasn't just about my own empty stomach. This was for everyone.
My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear myself think.
If I stayed quiet, I would be a coward.
If I spoke up, I might be the first one he cuts down.
But when I saw Dante's sunken cheeks, Asper's trembling jaw, Ton-Ton's dull glazed eyes... I knew I had no choice.
I stepped forward.
"General Voltaire..." I called, forcing my voice not to shake.
Silence fell instantly.
Hundreds of eyes turned to me.
"For today..." I swallowed hard, "as Crown Prince, I request—"
That was when his gaze finally locked onto mine.
Cold.
Unreadable.
Impossible to escape.
The entire training ground held its breath.
"I request—no." My voice wavered. "I command everyone to eat."
There.
I said it.
And it felt like my heart exploded from beating too fast.
General Voltaire slowly lowered his crossed arms.
"So," he said quietly, "even you choose to defy my command."
He did not raise his voice.
He didn't even move.
But the stillness around him felt like the calm before a lightning strike.
"If the Crown Prince himself—or any of you—cannot endure hunger for even half a day," he said, dangerously calm, "then perhaps none of you are ready for war."
Then he turned to the warriors.
"Eat."
With just that single command, the word crashed over us like thunder.
After that, he simply turned his back and walked away—no explanation, no hesitation, no anger. Just a silent storm leaving the field.
All of us stared at one another.
Not one hand reached for the food.
"What are you waiting for?" Rowan said gently. "He's gone. You may eat now. The prince already commanded."
"Prince Aurein..." Ton-Ton whispered, voice trembling, "I'm starving... but I feel like I can't bring myself to eat."
"Same," Dante said, unable to hide his worry. "He said we can eat, but... I'm scared of what comes after."
"We should endure it," Asper said quietly. "He's right. If we can't handle hunger, we won't last a second in battle."
I let out a long sigh.
They weren't touching the food at all.
"Wait," I said, frowning, "the General always talks about war this, war that. You mean none of you have ever been in an actual war with him?"
They all shook their heads, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry—I didn't know. I thought you had already fought beside him," I said, my eyes widening. "I don't even know how many wars Ardentia has been through, to be honest. I was never interested in those things... well, not until recently, when I started spending most of my time with General Voltaire. Everything he talks about always circles back to wartime."
I didn't even care about him that much as well before. I was focused on myself only, on my dream to become a moon dancer and to dance freely.
"We're a newly formed unit under General Voltaire," Asper explained. "He assembled us after he became General—right after his father died in the last major war happened at the Orion's Stand in the northern part of the kingdom. There hasn't been a war since then. We have no experience. None at all."
"We're the youngest and newest unit," Ton-Ton added. "We're not looked down on because of the General. Everyone knows how strong he is. They look down on us, just the warriors of this unit because we're inexperienced."
"That's why the General is hard on us," Asper continued. "He's trying to make us worthy. Ready. If a war suddenly breaks out, we're the weakest unit. We will probably die, except for General Voltaire."
"We can barely perform well in sword training," Dante said softly. "He must be disappointed. None of us can talk to him. Only you can. He... actually listens to you, Prince Aurein."
"I understand," I said. "Thank you for telling me."
Then I took a deep breath.
"But yes, I will to speak to the General. I want to fix this—if that's even possible."
I straightened my posture, even if my heart pounded like a drum.
"Wait for me," I told them. "I'll try to talk to him. Hopefully... he won't kill me."
With that, I turned and followed the path where General Voltaire disappeared—gathering every last drop of courage I had.
Because if I didn't face him now... I never would.
* * *
In a few moments, I found him.
General Voltaire stood alone before the lake—back turned to me, hands clasped neatly behind him, a perfect silhouette of restraint against the shimmering water. The afternoon light painted him in muted gold, making him look both untouchable and painfully distant.
I approached as quietly as I could.
I wondered if he would sense me.
Of course he did.
He exhaled deeply, his breath tightening the air around us.
"What is it that you want now, crown prince?" he said, voice cutting through the quiet without even turning to look.
As expected—his senses were as sharp as blades. He knew I was there before I even stepped on the grass.
I inhaled, summoning every bit of courage I had. I could speak to him plainly sometimes... but moments like this—when he was cold, when he was unreadable—I felt like a child approaching a storm.
"General Voltaire... may I speak with you?" I said seriously.
He didn't answer.
Didn't move.
Didn't even tilt his head.
It was as if I did not exist—like my presence beside him was nothing more than a breeze skimming over stone.
"General—"
"Why are you still here?" he cut in, his tone icy. "Why have you not eaten?"
"The warriors... they won't start unless you're there," I said, worry seeping into my voice.
"Why?" he asked flatly. "Do I need to feed them by hand so they can eat?"
"No. It's just—they're loyal to you. More than to Rowan... more than to me. Even if I told them to eat, they won't take a single bite unless you—"
"I already commanded them to eat," he said. "What else do they need?"
"They need to see it themselves," I insisted. "They need to know you meant it. If you go there and eat first, they'll follow."
He stayed silent, expression unseen, posture rigid.
"Just go back and tell them I said they may eat."
"You have to come with me," I said, taking a step closer.
He wasn't just angry—he was... hurting. Burdened. Holding something too heavy for even someone like him. I could almost see it.
"General... I'm sorry," I said softly. "I know you're only doing your best to prepare them in case war breaks out. I didn't mean to overstep you. Are you... are you angry at me?"
He breathed out slowly—long and deep.
Looking at his back, broad and impossibly strong, I felt something rise in my chest.
A longing I tried to deny.
I wanted to hold him.
To wrap my arms around him.
To feel his warmth and his heartbeat. I want him to feel how sorry I am right with just a simple heartfelt hug.
But touching him now—touching him at all—felt dangerous.
One wrong move, and I wouldn't be able to stop myself.
I'd fall too hard.
And he'd never catch me.
"Enough. Go back and eat," he said coldly. "I accept your apology. What else you do you want, Prince Aurein?"
"General... forgive me. I—I can't stop myself anymore," I whispered.
Before I realized it, my hands moved.
My arms slipped around his waist—almost—my fingers hovering at the fabric of his uniform, ready to pull him into an embrace.
He turned sharply, catching me just before I touched him.
His brows furrowed.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low with warning.
"I—I just wanted to hug you."
"Aurein, the warriors already started eating," Rowan said suddenly.
He was right behind me—he must've just arrived.
General Voltaire looked at him. I did too.
Rowan's lips parted when he noticed my hands—still raised toward Voltaire's waist.
My stomach dropped.
I stepped back immediately, pretending nothing happened, forcing my arms stiffly to my sides.
"The warriors started eating already," Rowan said again. "King Lucen just arrived and ordered everyone to. I came to find you."
"O-Oh. I see. Thank you, Rowan," I said, though something sharp twisted painfully inside my chest.
I looked back at General Voltaire.
He didn't look at me.
Didn't look at Rowan either.
His eyes returned to the lake, distant and cold.
"Go. Eat with them," he said simply.
"Let's go, Aurein. Just leave General Voltaire alone if he doesn't want to eat," Rowan added gently.
I nodded, though my chest felt unbearably tight.
I leaned toward the General and whispered, "I'll bring you some food. Just stay here, okay?"
He didn't respond.
He only sighed.
I turned to walk with Rowan—but someone else appeared before us.
My father.
"Ah, the three of you are here," King Lucen said.
General Voltaire immediately faced him, standing straighter than ever.
"King Lucen," he said respectfully.
My father acknowledged him with a small hand gesture before turning to me.
"The reason I came is to bring you back to the palace, Aurein." he said.
"Why?" I asked, confused. "Is something wrong?"
"King Lexor and Princess Serena of Grition Kingdom have arrived," he said.
"What? Why so soon? You told me two days ago that they would arrive on the fifth day—"
"No more questions," he said firmly. "The earlier you meet Princess Serena, the better."
He gestured for me to follow.
"Come. Let us go so you can meet your future queen."
Future queen.
Of course.
Why now? Not when the General and I are not in good terms!
Argh—!
End of Chapter 15