Chapter 9-10

Chapter 9: The Will to Stand Tall

The golden morning light streamed into the grand dining hall of the Aetherian palace, where the imperial family gathered for breakfast. The soft clinks of cutlery, gentle hum of conversation, and occasional teasing from the princes made the room feel warmer than the summer sun.

Tia giggled as her brother, Kaelen, tried to sneak an extra pastry from her plate, only to be caught by Alaric's glare. The Empress smiled at their usual antics while the Emperor calmly sipped his tea, his gaze fond and proud.

It had become a routine now—these peaceful mornings. Laughter. Warmth. Togetherness.

And yet… something inside Tia still felt uneasy.

She placed her spoon down gently and spoke, her voice light yet firm.

"Father, Mother... I've been thinking. I want to start training."

The table fell silent.

Even the sound of servants pouring tea paused for a breath.

Kaelen blinked, confused. "Training? What kind of training? Swordplay?"

Alaric tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "Why the sudden thought, Tia?"

The Empress gently placed her cup down. "Sweetheart, there's no need for that. You don't need to push yourself. We're all here to protect you."

"Yes," the Emperor said, brows raised but voice calm. "Your only duty is to be happy."

Tia's green eyes lowered, her fingers curling in her lap. "But… in that dream," she said quietly, "everyone died. I couldn't do anything. I just stood there. I was too weak. I couldn't even protect myself."

The brothers froze.

The Queen's smile faltered.

Tia looked up quickly, eyes wide with guilt. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset anyone—"

"You're not wrong," the Emperor cut in gently, silencing her apology with a soft but commanding voice.

Tia blinked.

The Emperor placed his hand over hers, eyes steady and kind. "If that dream made you feel helpless, then it's good you want to change that. Strength isn't just about lifting a sword. It's about courage—and the will to protect."

Tia's lips parted in surprise.

"We'll support you," the Empress said, smiling again—but this time, it was tinged with something softer. Pride. Regret. Hope.

Kaelen leaned back with a shrug. "I guess I'll have to find a knight strong enough not to cry when Tia accidentally trips over a practice dummy."

Tia puffed her cheeks. "Brother!"

Alaric chuckled. "Let's not underestimate her. She might surprise us."

The Emperor turned to his second son. "Kaelen, I'll leave the selection of her instructor to you. Someone strong. But someone we can trust."

Kaelen nodded. "I have someone in mind already."

The crown prince raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Aina Vermundt," Kaelen replied.

The name rippled across the family like a soft breeze stirring deep waters.

Unspoken memories stirred.

The girl with sun-kissed skin, a quick blade, and a quicker temper. A commoner who had risen through sheer grit. In the previous life, she had fought alongside Kaelen through the bloodiest campaigns—fearless, loyal, and brilliant in her instincts. She'd stood by the people when even the nobility wavered. Her life had ended in fire and steel, defending civilians during the southern rebellion.

But now, she was still alive.

Still young.

Still within reach.

"She's perfect," the emperor said simply, and no one disagreed.

Tia, unaware of the memories exchanged in their silent glances, tilted her head. "Aina...?"

Kaelen smiled. "You'll like her. She's tough—but fair."

After breakfast, the entire family instinctively stood, ready to accompany Tia to her training grounds.

She blinked at them in surprise. "W-why are you all coming?"

The second prince smirked. "Do you think we'll let our precious sister out of sight that easily?"

But Tia crossed her arms, feigning annoyance. "I'm just going to train, not fight a war. Don't you all have important royal duties to attend to?"

The family hesitated.

The crown prince sighed dramatically. "She's guilt-tripping us, Father."

The emperor chuckled. "Let her go. But Kaelen, you are personally responsible for her safety."

Kaelen placed a hand over his heart. "Of course."

The crown prince pointed a finger at his younger brother. "If she gets even one bruise—"

"She'll get stronger," Kaelen interrupted. "That's the point."

"Kaelen—"

"I'll carry her if I have to," Kaelen sighed. "Let me do my job, dear brother."

With Tia changed into something comfortable, Kaelen escorted her to the palace's private training grounds. The soldiers and servants saluted as they passed, murmuring greetings to the cheerful princess and her ever-watchful brother.

Kaelen called for his aide. "Send for Aina Vermundt. Tell her I've got a new mission for her."

As Tia looked around the grounds in curiosity, stretching her arms in excitement, Kaelen watched the horizon, already anticipating the meeting to come.

Aina... it's time to meet again.

---

The training grounds were quieter than usual, the soldiers stepping aside with respectful nods as Aina Vermundt made her way through. Her boots thudded against the packed earth with the precision of someone born to command, even if she didn't yet hold a title.

She stopped when she saw them.

Second Prince Kaelen Ardentis stood beside a girl in simple training clothes—his sister, the princess. Golden hair tied back, green eyes eager and determined.

Aina saluted smartly. "Aina Vermundt, reporting as ordered."

Kaelen turned, and for a brief second, he didn't say anything.

In his memory, she had died with a sword in hand, soaked in blood, refusing to retreat even when her leg had been torn open. Now she stood alive before him, sun-kissed skin and eyes that hadn't yet seen the horrors of betrayal.

"Didn't expect you to look this serious before breakfast," Kaelen said, smirking.

Aina didn't flinch. "Didn't expect the prince to summon someone before breakfast. I figured it must be urgent."

Kaelen chuckled. "You're exactly how I remember—"

He cut himself off, clearing his throat. "—how I imagined."

Aina raised a brow, not quite sure if he was mocking her or complimenting her.

"Lady Aina," he said more formally, "this is my sister, Princess Libertia. She wishes to begin combat training. I've chosen you to supervise it."

Aina's eyes shifted to the princess. There was softness in that golden gaze—but also a flicker of steel.

"She's never trained before?"

"No," Kaelen said, tone light. "So don't go too hard or Mother will kill me."

"Understood." Aina turned back to Tia and gave a small nod. "We'll start from the basics. Strength isn't born in a day."

"Thank you for doing this," Tia said, a little shy but sincere.

Kaelen watched the two of them quietly. It was strange. Aina's presence should feel like any other soldier's—but it didn't.

She was just a commoner girl once, yet her posture commanded more dignity than half the nobles he knew.

And she didn't look at him with fear or flattery like the rest.

She hasn't changed... still sharp, still calm. But maybe this time... I'll actually get to know the woman behind that sword.

"You'll get along," he said with an easy grin. "Though you should know—my sister's the type to cry if her braid gets tugged."

"I am not!" Tia shouted, red-faced.

Aina smirked faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."

---

The morning sun gleamed across the royal training grounds as soldiers gathered in rows, the air buzzing with the crackle of discipline and anticipation. Word had spread that the newly appointed Commander Lucien Virell, son of the Duke of the North, would be conducting a drill session alongside Second Prince Kaelen Ardentis.

Lucien stood tall and composed, his black military uniform crisp and his dark hair neatly swept back. Though young, he carried himself with quiet authority. The soldiers, however, weren't all impressed.

"He's younger than some of us," one of them muttered.

"Just another noble brat playing general."

Lucien heard it, of course. He always did. But he didn't react.

Prince Kaelen leaned lazily against a post nearby, watching with mild amusement. He'd heard the grumbling, too. He was used to it.

In the last life, most of these men turned against the empire when it mattered most, he thought, his sharp amber eyes narrowing. But not Lucien. He died protecting us all. He gave everything.

The soldiers lined up, half-interested, half-skeptical. One particularly cocky man stepped forward. He was tall, broad, and clearly thought himself above taking orders from someone like Lucien.

"How about we see if you deserve to command us," he challenged, smirking. "Unless, of course, you'd rather hide behind the prince."

Kaelen snorted. "Don't drag me into this. I'm just here to watch the show."

Lucien met the man's gaze calmly. "Fine. We'll spar."

The crowd stepped back, forming a loose circle. The man lunged first, aiming to knock Lucien off balance quickly, hoping to humiliate him.

Lucien didn't move for the first few blows—dodging gracefully, deflecting with ease. Then, with a sharp pivot, he disarmed the soldier in three swift, calculated movements.

The man landed flat on his back.

A stunned silence followed.

As the dust settled and the murmurs of impressed soldiers echoed across the training field, Lucien stood tall, unbothered by the whispers. He offered a hand to the groaning soldier on the ground, helping him up with quiet dignity before turning back to the formation.

Kaelen stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Lucien hadn't changed. Reliable, fast, precise—and still had a punch that could knock down giants.

But as Kaelen's sharp gaze swept over the gathered soldiers, the smirk slowly faded.

He recognized them.

A few of those faces—subtle smirks, lazily held swords, slick words behind polished armor—they had once stood on the wrong side. In their last life, these very men were later promoted through manipulations, earning favor with Lily's faction. Their incompetence had cost lives. Their betrayal had helped the southern rebellion grow.

Kaelen's jaw clenched.

Not again.

He mentally marked every single one of them. One by one.

This time, he wouldn't wait until it was too late.

This time, he would weed them out before they had the chance to poison the empire again.

---

Chapter 10: Threads in Motion

In the Emperor's Study

Crown Prince Alaric walked down the corridor with a stack of scrolls and reports neatly tied together in his hand. His silver-and-blue uniform was crisp as always, but there was a heaviness in his steps today. He had spent all night going through lists of names—people who had smiled at his family while stabbing them in the back.

He reached the Emperor's study and knocked.

"Come in," came the Emperor's voice.

As Alaric stepped inside, he saw not only his father but also his mother, the Empress, seated beside him at the long table, several scrolls and maps spread before them.

The Emperor looked up, his expression softening for a moment. "Alaric. Good timing."

The Empress smiled, though her face held a trace of exhaustion. "We were just discussing the merchant from the east. The one with that peculiar crop Lily once introduced. We don't know where exactly he was based."

Alaric's eyes lit with recognition. "Ah. I remember overhearing a conversation in the past life. One of the court nobles said the merchant came from a border village near the eastern mountains."

The Emperor tapped his finger on the table. "That narrows the search. Good. We'll send scouts to that region."

Alaric stepped forward and placed the report on the table. "These are the names we've verified as potential traitors. Some may only be pawns, but the ones in red are high-risk."

The Emperor's gaze sharpened. He opened the scroll and began reading silently while the Empress scanned another page.

Alaric hesitated before speaking again. "There's another issue... the plague."

Both the Emperor and Empress froze.

"In the last life, it spread before we could act. By the time the reports reached the capital, it was already in three provinces. If we act now, we might prevent it."

The Empress looked thoughtful. "What do you suggest?"

Alaric's expression was firm. "Send medical units—disguised as routine health check teams. Offer free consultations and supplies in the outer regions. It'll both help the people and give us early warning."

The Emperor nodded slowly. "Agreed. This will also win us goodwill."

He turned to his attendant. "Send word to the Ministry of Health. And summon Sir Calen Dairon and Sir Rowan Elvane."

The attendant bowed. "At once, Your Majesty."

---

Sir Calen Dairon and Sir Rowan Elvane stood tall before the imperial family. Both young, sharp-eyed, and chosen for their loyalty.

The Emperor's gaze swept over them. "You are to be dispatched to the South and East respectively, under the guise of financial and administrative inspection."

He passed them two sealed scrolls. "These are your formal assignments. Your true task is to uncover the extent of corruption under the Duke of Carthas and Duke Grentis. We believe they are hiding more than they show."

The Empress added, "Gain their trust. Be their shadow. Learn everything—who they speak to, where their coin goes, how their soldiers are treated."

The Emperor's voice turned grave. "Time is short. I want your first reports in one month. If you feel this mission is too dangerous, speak now."

Sir Rowan bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, it is an honor to be entrusted with this mission. I will not fail."

Sir Calen followed. "Even if my life is at risk, I will serve until the end."

The royal couple exchanged a quiet, approving glance.

---

Meanwhile: In the Training Grounds

Princess Tia wiped the sweat from her brow, panting lightly. Her golden hair was tied in a low ponytail, already damp from the morning sun.

Across from her, Aina Vermundt, clad in a short black jacket and sturdy training pants, stood with arms crossed.

"Keep your footing steady. You're letting your right side weaken when you dodge," Aina said calmly.

Tia adjusted herself, breathing hard but nodding. Her arms ached. Her legs trembled slightly. But she didn't stop.

Aina finally walked forward and offered her a towel. "Rest. You've done enough for today."

Tia shook her head, determination flaring in her green eyes. "No. I want to finish today's training. Just a little more."

Aina's lips curled slightly in approval. "Alright then, Princess. Let's continue."

From a distance, a figure leaned casually against a nearby tree. Lucien Virell, dressed in the standard northern regiment uniform, arms folded.

He had come to deliver a report to the Second Prince but had paused when he heard the sound of steel.

His blue eyes followed the princess's movements with mild interest.

"She's not bad," he murmured to himself. "For a pampered royal."

A quiet chuckle escaped him when she slipped during a turn and glared at her own foot.

"Not bad at all."

---

At night

The grand dining hall was lit softly by golden chandeliers, casting a warm glow over the long table where the royal family gathered for their evening meal.

Everything seemed as usual—playful teasing between siblings, the clatter of cutlery, and the aroma of richly prepared dishes—until someone noticed the unusually quiet princess.

Tia sat with her chin resting lightly on her palm, barely touching her food. Her shoulders drooped, and the usual sparkle in her eyes had dimmed beneath the flush of exhaustion.

The second prince, Kaelen, leaned over with a smirk. "Look at you, all worn out already. This is why I told you not to take Aina lightly."

Tia gave him a tired glare but didn't protest. "I'm fine… just a little sore."

The crown prince, Alaric, arched a brow. "You trained only half the day, and you look like a defeated soldier. At this rate, you'll turn to pudding by the week's end."

The emperor chuckled softly from the head of the table. "Let her adjust, boys. Everyone struggles at first."

The empress, ever watchful, placed her chopsticks down and turned to Tia with concern. "You did well for your first day. But don't overexert yourself, my dear."

"I want to keep going," Tia said quietly but firmly. "I… I want to become stronger. I won't give up."

The queen smiled, though a flicker of worry passed through her green eyes. "Then we'll support you. I'll prepare a strengthening tonic for you in the mornings, and I'll speak to the royal chef about adjusting your diet."

A nearby attendant bowed and left to pass along the instructions.

Kaelen groaned dramatically. "Not the bitter stuff again, Mother. You're going to poison our baby sister's taste buds."

"She's not a baby," Tia muttered, sitting up straighter.

"She'll always be one," Alaric said, reaching out to gently fix the loose strands of hair from her face. "But she's our brave baby sister now."

Tia's lips curved into a soft smile, her heart full despite the aching in her muscles.

Kaelen leaned back in his chair. "Should we start calling her Lady Knight Tia now? Or better yet—'The Golden Tornado.'"

Alaric snorted. "She barely managed three rounds of sword drills."

"And yet still walked away with her pride intact," the emperor said, his voice light with amusement. "She deserves that much."

Laughter filled the hall again as the family shared an easy moment of warmth. The empress reached over and squeezed her daughter's hand, pride evident in her touch.

For a moment, Tia forgot the pain in her limbs. All she could feel was the glow of love.

---