Chapter 20: On Board

The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and burning lantern oil as Juhtmed made his way through the palace corridors one last time. His boots barely made a sound against the polished marble floors, but each step carried weight—finality.

He had spent his final night in restless silence, staring at the ceiling of his chambers while the reality of his departure settled over him. Now, as he approached the outer courtyard, a familiar figure stood waiting.

Kaitsja.

 He was not a man given to sentiment, and yet, something in his gaze was almost… considering.

Juhtmed stopped a few paces away, taking on his sight of the man who had pushed him harder than anyone ever had.

Kaitsja exhaled through his nose, arms crossed. "You've improved."

Juhtmed blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected acknowledgment.

It wasn't praise, exactly, but coming from Kaitsja, it was the closest thing to it.

"I had no choice," he said, keeping his voice even. "I still don't."

Kaitsja nodded, his sharp eyes studying him. "No, you don't. You will be surrounded by those who are stronger, faster, and more prepared than you."

Juhtmed clenched his jaw but didn't look away. He had no illusions about what awaited him at Kümme.

Kaitsja tilted his head slightly. "But strength is not only in the body. If you wish to survive, you must also gain strength mentally."

Juhtmed knew that, too. That was the part he was worried about.

"I will remember your words," Juhtmed said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

Kaitsja watched him for a long moment before nodding in return. "See that you do."

No parting words. No unnecessary encouragement. Just the truth.

Juhtmed straightened, inhaled deeply, and turned toward the carriage where Lian was already waiting.

The road leading away from the palace was long and winding, lined with towering trees whose bare branches twisted against the morning sky. Inside the carriage, the soft creak of wood accompanied the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves against the dirt path.

Juhtmed sat with his hands folded in his lap, gazing out the window as the city shrank behind them.

Lian, seated across from him, watched him in silence for a while before finally speaking.

"You're tense."

Juhtmed barely glanced at her. "I didn't sleep well."

She hummed, unconvinced. "That's not all."

He inhaled slowly. Of course, she would see through him. Its like she always knew him.

He had spent weeks preparing for this. Training until his muscles burned, he had forced himself to be ready.

And yet, beneath it all, a deep, gnawing anxiety twisted inside him.

He could fight. He could plan. But what he could not prepare for was them.

The other students.

He still remembered the feeling of isolation in his first life—being the outsider, the one who did not belong. He had hated the school environnement then, hated the whispered words and the subtle cruelty of those who saw him as lesser.

And now, he was walking into another school, another battlefield of politics and alliances.

Juhtmed clenched his fists. He would not let the past repeat itself.

But he couldn't tell Lian that.

Instead, he gave her a weak smirk. "I hate ships."

Lian raised an eyebrow. "You hate ships?"

He shrugged. "I don't feel easy with the sea is too unpredictable."

She studied him for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she shifted topics. "Then let's focus on what we can control."

Juhtmed exhaled, grateful for the distraction.

"Connections," she continued. "You can't afford to be alone in this. You will need allies your highness."

He nodded slowly. "But not blindly."

"Of course not," Lian agreed. "Some will want to use you, others will want you gone. You'll need to figure out which one will be be an allies or an enemy."

Juhtmed let out a slow breath, leaning back against the carriage seat. "And how do you suggest I do that?"

Lian smirked. "Watch. Listen. Learn."

He snorted softly. "That easy, huh?"

She shrugged. "Not easy. But necessary."

He knew she was right. Just as Kaitsja had said—strength was not only in the body. If he was going to survive, he needed more than just skill with a blade.

He needed people.

By the time the carriage rolled to a stop, the salty tang of the sea filled the air, thick and heavy. The docks stretched before them, crowded with ships of all sizes, their masts swaying in the wind. Workers bustled about, hauling crates and shouting orders.

Juhtmed stepped out, his boots hitting the wooden planks of the pier. The sight of the ocean stretched endlessly before him, deep and unknowable.

Lian appeared beside him, her gaze scanning the docks with sharp precision.

Then, a voice cut through the noise.

"You must be the Emperor's son."

Juhtmed turned to see a man approaching. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his long coat billowing slightly in the sea breeze. His dark beard was neatly trimmed, his eyes sharp and assessing.

"The name's Captain Varlek," the man said, stopping a few paces away. "I'll be taking you to Kümme."

Juhtmed inclined his head slightly. "Juhtmed."

Varlek smirked. "I know who you are." His gaze flicked to Lian. "And you, I assume, are the bodyguard."

"Something like that," Lian said smoothly.

Varlek chuckled. "Fair enough."

He turned, gesturing toward the largest ship docked nearby. "We leave with the tide. Hope you're ready, Your Highness."

He followed Varlek toward the ship, Lian at his side.

The real journey was about to begin.

And Juhtmed could only hope he was ready.

The wooden planks of the dock groaned underfoot as Juhtmed followed Captain Varlek toward the ship. The vessel was larger than he had expected, its dark hull rising high above the churning water. Sails furled, ropes taut, it waited like a beast ready to lurch forward the moment the tide allowed it.

A cold wind swept in from the sea, sending a shiver down his spine. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stand tall. He had to appear composed, even if the unease gnawed at him.

Lian walked beside him in silence, though he could feel her watchful presence. She was scanning their surroundings, making sure he was safe. But Juhtmed knew all too well that the real dangers wouldn't come from pirates or storms.

No, they would come from the people waiting for him at Kümme.

Varlek led them up the gangplank, his boots clicking against the damp wood. The moment Juhtmed stepped onto the ship, a sharp gust of salty air hit him full force. His stomach twisted from the movement beneath his feet.

"Your quarters are below deck," Varlek said, nodding toward the entrance to the lower levels. "Small, but comfortable enough."

Juhtmed nodded, but before he could move, Varlek's sharp eyes locked onto his. "You ever sailed before, Your Highness?"

Juhtmed hesitated for only a fraction of a second. "Once or twice."

It was a lie.

He never get aboard a ship t'ill today the only thing he would say closely to it would be a water attraction on a school trip.

Varlek smirked, as if he could see right through him. "Good. Then you know to keep your head high and your stomach steady."

Juhtmed wasn't sure about either of those things.

Lian, seemingly unconcerned, stepped past them. "I'll inspect the quarters."

Varlek chuckled. "You bodyguards really don't trust anyone, do you?"

She didn't answer, disappearing below deck without another word.

Juhtmed stayed on deck, inhaling deeply. The scent of the sea filled his lungs—cold, sharp, brimming with the unknown. He turned to look back at the docks, at the city he was leaving behind.

A small, irrational part of him whispered that this if he turned around now, if he ran, he could avoid it all.

The whispers were old. They came from the boy he used to be—the one who feared, who endured, who never fought back.

Juhtmed straightened his spine.

No more running.

The ship had been sailing for hours, and Juhtmed was already regretting his choices.

His stomach churned uncomfortably as the ship rocked beneath him. He had forced himself to eat earlier, knowing he needed his strength, but now it sat in his gut like lead.

The candle in his cabin flickered as the ship creaked with the movement of the waves. He sat on the narrow cot, elbows on his knees, trying to steady his breathing.

This was fine. He was fine.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he called, voice steadier than he felt.

Lian stepped inside, arms crossed. "I thought you hated ships, not the idea of food staying in your stomach."

Juhtmed glared at her, but she only smirked.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

Lian leaned against the wall. "You're lying."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It will pass with time."

She studied him for a moment before pushing off the wall. "We'll be at sea for at least a week. That's a long time to 'let it pass.'"

Juhtmed exhaled, rubbing his temple. "A whole week... I didn't realize"

Her expression shifted slightly—still teasing, but with a hint of seriousness underneath. "You're not just seasick your highness. You're thinking too much."

Juhtmed didn't answer.

Because she was right.

His thoughts had been a storm since they left. His mind ran through every possibility, every outcome. How it would be for him at Kümme? What if they see him as weak? Would he have to fight the moment he arrived?

Would history repeat itself?

"I know what you're doing," Lian said softly. "You're trying to predict everything, to prepare for every possibility. But you can't."

His gaze snapped to hers.

"You don't have to do this alone," she said simply. "Its why i'm here."

He swallowed hard.

He knew she meant well. He knew she had been with him through everything, that she would stand by him no matter what.

But some things, he had to face on his own.

Even so…

Juhtmed let out a slow breath, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. "Thank you, Lian."

She grinned. "See? That wasn't so hard."

He rolled his eyes but allowed a small, reluctant smirk.

Maybe, just maybe, this journey wouldn't be so unbearable after all.