“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

  ???

  Yulia wanted to groan when she stepped out of the women’s shower room, her hair still damp from the shower she’d taken after the mock test. The results would be posted in their classrooms next week, but they already had a rough idea of how they had fared.

  But as their instructors had reminded them, this was just a mock test, and is meant only to prepare them for their midterms and their finals. Even if they get bad results, there was still time to practice, train, and improve.

  Just outside the shower room was Rem, leaning against the opposite wall, with his Crownsguard stationed a few paces down the hallway. The Crownsguard inclined his head to Yulia politely. And surprisingly, neither Nathan Hunt nor Leighton Curnow was with Rem.

  “You know, even if you are the prince, it will tarnish your reputation if you’re caught hanging around outside the women’s shower room,” Yulia pointed out bluntly with a raised brow.

  Behind her, in the shower room, both of them could hear the faint laughter and chatter from the other girls.

  “I just need a word,” Rem mumbled.

  Yulia raised a brow. “I could do with a drink,” she murmured, walking down the hallway, with Rem falling into step beside her. His Crownsguard, too, followed at a respectful distance, being close enough to protect him at a moment’s notice if needed.

  For several moments, none of them said a word, even as they stepped into the Academy cafeteria. At this hour, most of the students were still in lessons, thus, there weren’t many people around. Yulia approached the cafeteria counter, ordering a drink, and set down the necessary number of coins as a tankard of juice was passed to her.

  “Enjoy,” The cafeteria lady said cheerfully, even as Yulia nodded in thanks, leading the way towards a corner table in the cafeteria, with Rem trailing meekly behind. His Crownsguard positioned himself nearby—just out of earshot, but still close enough that he will be able to move at a moment’s notice to aid Rem if needed.

  “I can spare you thirty minutes,” Yulia said, taking a sip from her tankard, eyeing Rem critically. “I have a training session with Felix Carrington soon.”

  Rem fidgeted in his seat, staring at the surface of the table, before he finally found his voice. “During the mock combat test earlier…” He trailed off slowly, his voice hesitant. “Wesley King is an ass, but he still deserves some respect. And what you did to him… That wasn’t what the test was about.”

  Yulia’s expression twisted in disgust. “Have you even been listening to what the instructors have been telling us since the start of this year? Or even what the mock tests are actually for? It’s not about honour and fairness. It’s about preparing us for the real world. For actual combat situations. Do you think that the enemy even gives a damn about fairness?”

  Rem faltered, unable to find his voice. He stared at his clenched fists on the table. Finally, he raised his eyes to meet Yulia’s. “You didn’t just fight him,” he said, his voice shaking. This had to be the first time in nearly two years since he had the chance to speak with Yulia, but this ‘conversation’ is anything but civil. “You didn’t even give him a chance. You humiliated Wesley King. You took him down. There’s a difference.”

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  “I went easy on him.” Yulia cut in flatly. Rem’s voice caught in his throat. Yulia’s expression was calm, but there was an unreadable expression in her eyes. “And war don’t award points for style, Your Highness.”

  Rem flinched.

  At that moment, Yulia’s gaze shifted towards the cafeteria entrance. Rem followed her line of sight only to recognise Felix Carrington standing at the entrance, jerking one thumb over his shoulder. Yulia nodded in response.

  “You haven’t changed. You’re still too na?ve,” Yulia murmured, half-rising to her feet. “And I’ll suggest that you stop worrying about me, and start worrying about yourself.” Rem flinched again, meeting with Yulia’s eyes. The sheer disappointment in her silver eyes cut sharper than any blade. “So far, I am not impressed with what you believe a ruler is.”

  She straightened to her feet and walked away, joining Felix Carrington at the doors, before they both left. Rem remained at the table, staring at the surface of the table, feeling more shaken than he liked, as he did every single time he had encounters with Yulia these days.

  He gave a start when someone took the seat that Yulia had vacated, and he looked up only to see Jaden Nightray eyeing him coolly. Rem was starting to get used to seeing the members of House Nightray look at him with either indifference or disappointment.

  “Six years, and you had yet to learn anything, it seems,” Jaden said softly, and Rem flinched. “Even when we were children, I know for a fact that Gareth had been continuously trying to drill that one core lesson into your head: there is a time and place for mercy. And the battlefield isn’t one of them. It is weakness and a big mistake to show mercy to your enemies on the battlefield, Your Highness. And from what I see, you had yet to learn that lesson.” He leaned forward on his elbows, his voice dropping into a near whisper. “Tell me, Your Highness,” Jaden almost whispered, his eyes like ice as he looked at Rem coldly, “how do you expect to be a king, and the ruler of this kingdom, when you won’t even grow a backbone and stand up for your own people? When you refuse to protect them?”

  Rem flinched again. Those words are entirely similar to what Yulia had told him. “I-It’s not like that,” he protested weakly.

  Jaden’s gaze didn’t waver.

  Rem had very vague memories of Jaden Nightray from childhood. He wasn’t one of the children who had often played with him and Luca during their visits to Nightray Manor when they were children, but they had occasional interactions. As far as Rem knew, Jaden Nightray had since become a captain within the Nightray forces, rather than joining Black Ops.

  “If I may offer a warning, Prince Rem?” Jaden’s voice was cool. “My lady is losing patience with you.” Rem stiffened. “And the only reason why House Nightray hasn’t turned its back on the royal family is because our lady wanted to give you a chance. But even her patience has limits. Don’t test us any further.” He warned, half-rising to his feet. “House Nightray are the kingdom’s shadows for a reason. I will suggest you remember that.” He lowered his voice so only Rem could hear him. “It wouldn’t be the first time that House Nightray takes out an incompetent ruler on the throne for the sake of the kingdom. Remember that.”

  Rem remained seated for a long time even after Jaden walked away, likely to give his farewells to both the Academy’s faculty and even Yulia before departing for Evershade. The soft sound of footsteps brought him back to himself, and he looked up to see his Crownsguard approaching.

  “Your Highness, shall we return to your dormitory?” he asked. “You have no further lessons scheduled today.”

  Rem nodded, getting to his feet slowly. “Were they right?” he asked his Crownsguard quietly even as they left the cafeteria, taking the walk back to the dorms.

  Being Crown Prince, Rem’s accommodations were more luxurious than those of even the Ten Great Houses. As tradition dictated, the royal family had a private suite on the top floor of the noble dormitory wing, reserved solely for when a member of the royal family attends the Imperial Officers Academy.

  Rem’s Crownsguard didn’t respond immediately. They walked in silence for several moments, passing no one on the way. Only when they arrived outside Rem’s room did the Crownsguard finally speak.

  “Far be it for me to speak out of turn, Your Highness, but they do have a point. Both Heiress Nightray and Jaden Nightray,” he said at last, and Rem looked at him with surprise. “I’ve guarded you for years, since the late king and queen have passed during the war. Your vision of idealism, Prince Rem, isn’t wrong in a time of peace. It would be admirable, even. But right now? That has no place in Alathia.”

  Rem frowned. “Even still, violence isn’t always the answer—” He protested.

  “No one is denying that, Your Highness,” His Crownsguard held up a hand. “No one wants to see war come to Alathia’s shores again. No one wants to fight, if given the choice.” He paused, looking at Rem. “The greatest service that a soldier can render to their country is to ensure that their skills are never called upon.”

  Rem blinked. “Who said that?”

  “The late Lord Hamilton Nightray.” His Crownsguard replied. “But Your Highness, there is a difference between mercy and justice. And I’m afraid that right now, you had yet to differentiate between the two.” Rem was silent, his hand pausing over the doorknob. “Get some rest, Your Highness. I’ll wake you when Nathan Hunt and Leighton Curnow arrive for your study session.”

  Rem nodded shakily before turning the doorknob and entering his room.

  The words of his Crownsguard lingered in his mind. And not for the first time, even as Rem closed the door behind him, he can’t help thinking to himself, was I wrong?