“Tomorrow I’ll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.” — Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

  ???

  The first Debate Hall of the academic year always drew considerable attention from not just the faculty and students of the Academy, but also from ministers, representatives from the noble houses, and even military commanders and generals of Alathia.

  So it came as no surprise to see visitors seated in the plush velvet chairs of the Grand Auditorium, located on the top-most level of the central wing of the Academy. Crimson drapes adorned with Alathia’s symbol adorned the walls, lending a ceremonial gravity to the event.

  Though today’s forum was intended for the first years, there were also students from the second and third years gathered in the audience, with the older students mostly curious to see what their juniors were capable of.

  For many of the visiting dignitaries, this was the first step toward recruitment into intelligence, diplomacy, or command. While not a mandatory class, Debate Hall was a prime opportunity to spot and groom future leaders of the kingdom.

  In his seat beside Leighton and the rest of his classmates, Nathan politely applauded as the girl on stage stepped down from the podium, clutching her folder of notes. She’s from the Standard class, Nathan recalled, and had presented an intriguing proposal: forming a ‘security force’ made up of retired veterans, rather than relying solely on Protectorate soldiers to protect the civilians, towns, and villages.

  While her argument was interesting and well-structured, it is still unpolished, as one student from Advanced Class 1 pointed out. Nathan had recognised him as Rowan Mercier.

  From the word around the first years, and even some of the senior students, Rowan Mercier seems to be close friends with Yuliana Nightray, Gale Valemire, and Elias Rovaryn. Though he had a reputation for sleeping through lectures, his grades proved his talent in military tactics and strategy. He had earned his place in the Academy, despite coming from one of the industrial slums.

  “What of corruption checks, or ensuring a balance of power and authority?” Rowan had questioned from his seat next to Yuliana Nightray. “Currently, Protectorate has a subdivision assigned to civilian patrol and security. I agree that it is taxing on them at times, especially if a major crime occurs. However, Protectorate is held accountable by the other military branches like the garrisons and Black Ops. If we form a civilian force made up of retired veterans, what oversight would exist? Under Alathia’s current laws, civilian and military affairs are judged separately to prevent conflicts of interest. What happens if this force faces military level threats? Who intervenes, then? In such a scenario, how do we handle this?”

  Though caught off guard, the girl had listened earnestly and seemed genuinely excited to return for the next session of Debate Hall with a more refined proposal. One of the military generals present had said as much—that while the proposal is unpolished, with much research and polishing, it could be a potential bill for Parliament.

  “I’ll admit, this year’s first years have brought some fascinating debates.” A third year had whispered three rows behind Nathan, but his sharp ears caught it easily. “Ours were nowhere that interesting. I think I remember one of our year mates doing up a presentation on animal rights laws?”

  Nathan bit down on his lower lip to suppress a laugh. He rather wished he’d been present for that one.

  Leighton nudged Nathan in the ribs with his elbow. “Heads up,” he murmured. “Rem’s up next.”

  Sure enough, Rem was making his way to the podium, ascending the steps to thunderous applause. Nathan noticed several Parliament representatives, and even representatives from the noble houses, as well as the military generals straightening in their seats at the sight of the Crown Prince taking the stage.

  Rem’s hands shook slightly as he stood at the podium, but his face was calm and composed. He had the look of someone who was groomed to take the place at the head of the kingdom. To someday lead the people.

  His voice was steady and earnest as it filled the chamber.

  “Good evening, fellow students and honoured guests. My name is Remington von Aubere. I’m from Advanced Class 2, Year 1. I stand here today to present my argument on a new diplomacy system that I believe represents the future of our kingdom.”

  Even as Rem spoke, Nathan’s eyes darted around the auditorium, studying the looks on the faces of the visitors, and even on some of the students. Some of the students whom Nathan recognised as nobles from outside the Imperial City, or even commoners who were sponsored by the Ten Great Houses, wore unreadable expressions. Kaela Merrin from Advanced Class 1, for instance, sponsored by House Kael, sat still, her gaze fixed on Rem with an unreadable expression.

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  Expressions that Nathan didn’t like.

  “Our history shows us that conflict only begets more conflict. What further proof do we need than the recent war with Nuvelle, which ended just five years ago?”

  Nathan winced. Rem mentioning the war against Nuvelle is not a smart move, and is a dangerous example to bring up. It is much too soon, considering that the kingdom was still healing from the scars of that war.

  “Didn’t Rem run this by you beforehand?” Leighton murmured to Nathan, concerned.

  “He didn’t. He said he had it in hand, and I trusted him,” Nathan whispered back. After all, Rem was the Crown Prince. He should know how to frame compelling arguments and debates, right?

  Nathan’s eyes then landed on Yuliana Nightray, who was seated two rows ahead. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes were hard as she looked at Rem at the podium.

  “The future of Alathia lies not in repeating the mistakes of the past, but in diplomacy, trust building, and creating a system where all voices—noble and civilian alike, can be heard equally. Violence must be the last option, not the first. We must be better than those who came before.”

  Rem’s words stirred a wave of polite applause, mostly from the commoners and nobles from the capital, as well as a few of Parliament’s representatives. But not from everyone.

  A hand shot up from one of the seats, and a student got to his feet. “Felix Carrington. Advanced Class 1,” he introduced himself. “Prince Rem, your argument sounds good. On paper, that is. Are you suggesting that if the kingdom’s borders are threatened, that ‘diplomacy’ alone is enough to protect our people?”

  Nathan’s eyes narrowed at Felix, even as murmurs rippled across the auditorium.

  His gaze fell on Yuliana Nightray in the rows in front of him, seated between Gale and Elias. Her posture is rigid, and her eyes were hard as she looked between Rem and Felix, even as Rem’s smile faltered with Felix’s argument.

  “I… I merely believe that there is always a better path than conflict,” Rem said, regaining his composure quickly. “If we can choose peace, should we not pursue it, rather than immediately risking the lives of both our soldiers and those of our enemies?”

  Felix’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Prince Rem, are you suggesting that we prioritise the lives of enemy soldiers over those of our own?” His voice was dangerous.

  Nathan gritted his teeth at this blatant disrespect from Felix Carrington, but Leighton gripped his arm before he could act. Nathan shot Leighton a glare, but he shook his head. “This is Debate Hall,” Leighton whispered firmly, giving Nathan a warning look. “He’s well within his rights to challenge Rem. If you leap to Rem’s defence now, it’ll do more harm than good.”

  “I’m only saying that conflict breeds further conflict, and will only lead to war,” Rem argued passionately. “If there’s a chance for peace and diplomacy, should we not try that path first?”

  There was a sigh before Yuliana Nightray got to her feet slowly, drawing all eyes to her petite form, commanding attention without a single word. Her silver eyes were unreadable even as they narrowed at Rem, who suddenly looked nervous on the podium.

  Around the auditorium, the visitors and even the fellow students were looking from one to the other. Some with interest. Others were looking with wariness. The military commanders and even the noble representatives were, however, looking at Yuliana Nightray with an unreadable expression, like they were anticipating something.

  “Yuliana Nightray, Advanced Class 1,” Yulia spoke, her voice cutting through the auditorium like steel. The murmurs amongst the students got louder when they realised who was speaking. “With all due respect, Your Highness, words are beautiful, but they don’t stop blades. And I agree with Heir Carrington here.” Her eyes flickered towards Felix, who nodded to her politely. “Are you suggesting that we prioritise the lives of our enemies over the protection of our people?” Her eyes narrowed at Rem. “Words of promises don’t shield border villages. It’s just empty promises until action is taken. Words are just that. Mere words. Until action is taken.”

  On the podium, Rem’s face paled.

  “Your views of idealism are fine in times of peace,” Yulia said sharply, her voice cutting through the auditorium like steel. “But often, talking doesn’t help. Promises can be broken. Words are cheap. You need the power and the ability to back up your own words.” She inhaled, ignoring the numerous eyes on her person. “You mentioned the war with Nuvelle earlier. So let me use that as a reference. Let’s say that someday, a war breaks out again. Would you still try to reason with an enemy that seeks only to conquer? Will you still stick to your belief that diplomacy is the answer to protecting your people? Will you still insist on sending diplomats, even when your people are begging for protection? Or will you finally accept that peace means little if you’re not prepared to fight for it?”

  The auditorium was still. Several military generals exchanged looks, while a noble representative nodded. “Well said,” he murmured under his breath.

  “Well? Prince Rem?” Felix Carrington recovered from his surprise at having Yuliana Nightray of all people back him up. “If a war breaks out, like Heiress Nightray said, will you still insist on diplomacy?”

  Nathan couldn’t stand it any longer. Ignoring Leighton’s tugs on his arm, he got to his feet, drawing the eyes of the auditorium, but he ignored it, his eyes flickering between Felix Carrington and Yulia.

  He vaguely recognised Felix Carrington as the heir of a minor noble house residing in the Northern Holds. A vassal house of House Kael.

  “Nathan Hunt, Advanced Class 2,” Nathan introduced himself formally. “You speak of pragmatism, Heir Carrington, Heiress Nightray, but all I hear from you both is insubordination. You’d use this public forum to challenge and insult the Crown?”

  Yulia looked very unimpressed with Nathan, as did half the auditorium. Felix Carrington, known for his temper, narrowed his eyes at Nathan. Despite himself, Nathan swallowed nervously. He had a feeling that the next joint combat session between both Advanced classes would end badly for him.

  “With all due respect, Nathan Hunt, neither I nor Heiress Nightray insulted the Crown,” Felix said stiffly. “We’re merely presenting counterarguments. That’s the point of Debate Hall. In no way are we insulting or demeaning the Crown. Without scrutiny, the Crown becomes unchecked. And unchecked power becomes tyranny. There would be no progress. No change. Debate Hall was made for open thought. I didn’t insult the prince. Neither did Heiress Nightray. We are merely challenging his ideas. That’s how a kingdom grows. The only way the Crown will know there is a problem is if the people bring it to their attention.”

  Nathan’s hands clenched into fists as he glared at Felix, who stared back at him challengingly. His gaze then went towards Yulia, and the warning in her eyes made him hesitate. Beside him, Leighton grabbed Nathan’s arm and yanked him back into his seat.

  “Enough,” Leighton murmured to Nathan in a volume low enough for only Nathan to hear. “You’re not doing yourself any favours here. Or Rem.”

  On the podium, Rem’s face tightened in the light of the arguments. He inclined his head politely toward Yulia and Felix, but his expression betrayed the storm brewing within him. It is apparent that the words and arguments from his fellow students have struck him harder than he cared to admit.

  “You both raised fair concerns and fair arguments,” he said at last. “But I can only hope that when the time comes, we can still believe in mercy and forgiveness.”

  Yulia met his gaze evenly, even as Felix gave a loud scoff before sinking back into his seat, muttering something that suspiciously sounded like, “Coward.”

  “Mercy is meaningless without strength, Your Highness,” Yulia said simply. “Just a word of thought.”