Chapter 12

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 6-3

Chapter Title: Rainy March and Unit Clash

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The assembly point set by the Crown Prince was the plain known as 'Goyad', located at the entrance to Tegoya Forest.

The lords of the northwest territories, having received the Crown Prince's orders, led their private troops and departed for Goyad one after another.

The Crown Prince's army, setting out from the capital, would need at least a month to reach Goyad.

However, the Crown Prince demanded they arrive within three weeks.

To meet this, the Imperial Guard and the New Moon Cavalry remained on horseback nonstop, except for sleeping and eating.

On the tenth day since departure, the army had smoothly reached the halfway point to their destination.

It had just been a short while after the soldiers finished their lunch and resumed marching.

Suddenly, clouds gathered in the clear sky, and a downpour began.

The horses, exhausted from the grueling schedule, slipped on the softened ground, and the wagons' wheels got stuck in the mud.

Judging further movement impossible, the Crown Prince halted the march and ordered a temporary camp set up on the spot.

The soldiers erected fences to corral the horses and began pitching tents.

Leona, prepared with rain gear beforehand, grabbed spare raincoats and umbrellas the moment the wagons stopped and jumped out.

Noel was preoccupied pulling his supply wagon out of the mud with the supply crew.

Leona handed Noel a raincoat, then dashed through the rain to find the Crown Prince.

Along the way, she spotted Casey and lent him an umbrella, then met Jonathan and gave him one, urging each to look after their captains.

At the head of the column, the Crown Prince and Barts stood with cloaks' hoods pulled low.

Opposite them sat a lavish noble carriage, with unfamiliar men kneeling before the Crown Prince.

Leona opened an umbrella over the Crown Prince's head.

But due to their height difference, the umbrella tip poked the top of his head.

Kamin glared at Leona as his view was suddenly blocked.

Barts quickly took the umbrella from her hand and held it high.

Ignoring Barts and Leona, Kamin turned forward.

"Did you not receive my orders? I commanded that no one obstruct my path or demand formal greetings as I pass."

The men prostrating below trembled at his icy voice. A middle-aged man holding a small box spoke up.

"We received the orders, Your Highness. However, with this sudden downpour, we feared for Your Highness's well-being..."

"Are you a seer?"

"Pardon?"

"How did you know it would rain and wait here in advance?"

"Well... that is..."

"Didn't you whine this year that your lands suffered poor harvests, starving your people, and beg for tax exemptions? Pour that sincerity into preparing carriages and jewels for your own people!"

At Kamin's bellow, the men floundered helplessly.

Barts whispered the situation to Leona.

"He's the viscount overseeing the nearby territory. He came to pay respects to Your Highness."

"What are you dawdling for? Clear the way and withdraw at once!"

At Kamin's roar, the viscount's group forgot greetings and fled.

As the noble carriage vanished, silence fell.

Barts and the surrounding soldiers glanced nervously at the Crown Prince, fidgeting.

A supply officer, finished setting up the Crown Prince's tent, approached to report but hesitated at the frigid atmosphere, stamping his feet.

"Your Highness."

Spotting the supply officer, Leona stepped forward, bowed, and spoke.

"Your Highness's tent is ready. Please move there at once."

Kamin looked down at Leona with frostbitten eyes.

Leona smiled softly and urged once more.

"The rain doesn't seem to let up soon. Please take shelter in the tent."

Kamin turned sharply and walked away.

Barts hurried after with the umbrella.

As the Crown Prince left, people exhaled held breaths and relaxed.

Those around admired Leona's boldness with respectful gazes.

To them, she seemed unflappable even before the furious Crown Prince.

In truth, Leona's composure came from knowing him too well.

She knew he wasn't one to rage over such trifles.

In her past life, she'd never seen him truly angry.

Not when the Emperor branded him a traitor, nor when deposed and imprisoned—he remained ever calm.

Thus, she'd instantly seen through his feigned anger moments ago.

Leona prepared fresh clothes and entered the Crown Prince's tent.

Barts was absent; behind the screen, the Crown Prince undressed alone.

His height made his head protrude above the screen.

"Your Highness, I've brought towels and fresh clothes."

"Hand them over."

Leona slipped them through the screen gap.

Kamin changed and emerged with a towel over his head.

Leona then entered to gather his wet clothes.

While sorting, a gold military command plaque slipped from between them.

Realizing it was the imperial military token—exclusive to the Emperor—Leona gasped in surprise.

She was stunned the Emperor had granted it to the Crown Prince.

Its possession alone showed how gravely the Emperor viewed this war.

Leona hurried to him and offered the plaque.

"Your Highness. You forgot this."

Kamin, sitting on the camp bed drying his hair, nodded silently at the sight.

Leona carefully placed it on the bed.

Kamin shoved it aside and lay down.

Seeing him handle the sacred token so casually weighed on Leona's heart.

She wished he'd show even a hint of ambition, but he acted like one ready to abandon all at any moment—frustrating.

Swallowing a sigh, Leona gathered his wet clothes.

Meanwhile, Barts brought in a brazier.

Leona asked him to place it far from the bed, then approached Kamin soothingly.

"Your Highness, the tent's damp, so we've set up a brazier. I'll fetch cold mint tea shortly. Please bear the heat just a bit."

Kamin cracked one eye, gazed up briefly, then nodded.

When she returned with the tea, he was receiving a scout's report—bare-chested, clad only in bottoms, fanning himself.

Spotting Leona, Kamin beckoned her closer.

She hurried over and offered the tea.

Kamin tossed the documents to the scout with one hand and gulped the tea.

Waiting for the scout to leave, Leona offered fresh undergarments.

"Your Highness, if it's hot, please change into these."

Kamin eyed them and raised a brow.

"These are..."

"Undergarments made from fabric used by the 'Nurkman Tribe' of the deserts. The breathable weave will cool you considerably."

Kamin tilted his head.

"From the palace?"

"I prepared them myself."

"You?"

"I heard the northwest climate is fickle—chilly nights, but days as hot as deserts. Worried about your heat sensitivity, I made them in advance."

Kamin felt the thin, soft cloth and smiled faintly.

"You knew my weakness for heat—did you change my bed linens to duck feathers too?"

"......"

Caught off-guard, Leona rolled her eyes mutely like a mute swallowing honey.

Amused by her fluster, Kamin dropped the interrogation and spread his arms.

Leona carefully dressed him in the undergarment.

As he donned outer layers, Barts entered announcing Captain Makia and Captain Glenn's arrival.

Kamin ordered them in.

Leona timed her exit with their entrance.

Under the tent's awning stood sentries and Barts.

Donning her raincoat, Leona instructed Barts.

"Please extinguish the brazier inside later. Otherwise, His Highness might kick it out."

"Where are you going?"

"Just stepping away briefly. I'll check on Nacha."

"Yes, safe travels."

Leona plunged into the torrent, searching the camp for Nacha.

Nacha wasn't corralled like the others.

Leona found him sheltering under a large tree outside camp.

As she ran to him, Nacha came to greet her.

They met in the rain and retreated under the tree together.

"Why out in the rain? Couldn't wait patiently?"

Pitying the soaked Nacha, Leona pulled towels from her bosom and wiped his face.

"Not cold?"

Nacha shook his head.

Leona fed him an apple, then toweled his coat.

"Wish the rain would stop soon."

Worried leaving him outside, Leona dried him while eyeing the sky.

As she moved from one flank to the other, passing his rear, she spotted ropes tied to the trunk.

"Huh?"

Another horse sheltered below.

Its saddle not imperial issue—likely Jahankun's mount.

Leona muttered, tilting her head.

"Where'd your owner vanish to?"

Nacha nudged her shoulder, then gestured upward with his chin.

Leona looked up.

Through dense branches, Jahankun's legs peeked.

Leona rummaged her bosom for the last apple.

"Can I give this to that friend?"

She pointed at Jahankun's horse.

Nacha pursed lips disapprovingly, averting gaze.

"Won't, then?"

Leona stroked his red mane softly, awaiting reply.

After deep deliberation, Nacha nodded toward the horse.

Leona hugged him gratefully.

"Wow, Nacha, you're so considerate. Amazing."

Praised, Nacha proudly stiffened his neck.

Then, nearby cursing boomed.

Leona tensed, pressing to Nacha.

Through rain patter, snippets of two men's talk emerged.

One excited, the other calming.

Voices neared; Leona hid behind the tree with Nacha, listening.

The agitated one vented curses, then spat discontent.

"This is all that prince's fault!"

"Captain!"

The calm one raised his voice.

The 'captain' fell silent, aware of his excess.

Leona recognized them.

The curser was 'Stan', vice-captain of New Moon Cavalry; the calmer, Captain Jonathan.

"Damn it!"

Unable to contain fury, Stan bellowed again.

Jonathan patted his shoulder consolingly.

"'Jessie' isn't badly hurt; she'll recover soon. Bear with another horse meantime."

"That's why I said this schedule's impossible!"

"Calm down. Just bad luck—Jessie slipped on the wet road."

"If we hadn't galloped all night, our Jessie wouldn't be hurt!"

"Yes, well... His Highness's deadline is tight. But what can we do? Leave Jessie here to rest."

"Damn. Supply horses are subpar."

"Just for now..."

"What's that horse?"

Stan spotted Jahankun's mount and approached.

Jonathan followed.

"Nice horse. Another supply mount?"

"That's..."

Up close, Jonathan recognized it.

"Captain, that horse has its own owner."

Ignoring, Stan inspected meticulously.

"Hm. Quite good. Perfect."

"Sigh, I said no. It's the Crown Prince Guest's horse."

"Ah, that barbarian?"

Stan grinned satisfied.

"He won't fight on the field—doesn't need such a fine horse. I'll have him yield it."

"Captain..."

Stan shoved Jonathan aside, reaching for the tether.

"Leave the owned horse be."

Leona emerged, addressing Stan.

Stan and Jonathan startled.

"Lady Leona."

Jonathan greeted first.

Leona nodded to him, then bowed properly to Stan.

"Hello, Vice-Captain Stan."

"Maid supervisor."

Stan greeted curtly.

Leona excused herself to them, approached Jahankun's horse, and offered the apple.

It accepted without resistance.

Stan watched, then gruffly asked.

"You seem quite close to that barbarian man, Lady Maid Supervisor?"

Jonathan signaled no, but Stan jutted his chin arrogantly, looking down.

His chin so high, Leona saw only its cleft.

Leona recalled from past life: tall, red curly hair, furrowed brow, sharp blue eyes.

The young man always wore an expression like Captain Makia's; she'd mistaken him for his son initially.

No blood tie, but Stan idolized Makia, a loyal subordinate and genius swordsman succeeding him.

In past life, when Makia imprisoned, he'd incited young soldiers to storm it, but leaked intel led to failure; he became fugitive and vanished.

Post-empire fall, his fate unknown. But currently, no threat to Crown Prince.

"Lord Jahankun is a precious guest of His Highness. Not personally close, but I strive to care for him diligently."

Leona answered kindly.

But he muttered peevishly.

"Hmph, taking barbarians to fight barbarians. Who knows how this war'll turn out."

Jonathan poked Stan's side chastisingly. Undeterred, Stan pressed Leona.

"What about you, Lady Maid Supervisor?"

"Pardon?"

"Entertaining barbarians as guests. I get sick just seeing them—fine by you?"

Leona glanced up briefly, then lowered eyes calmly.

"I am a maid serving His Highness the Crown Prince. If he deems someone important, regardless of status or origin, they are precious to me."

Stan glared at her firm yet gentle reply.

Silence fell.

Nacha stepped forward, towering over Stan beside Leona.

Stan eye-battled Nacha, then snorted at Leona and strode into rain.

Jonathan eyed apology to Leona, hurrying after.

The rain stopped around the third hour of the afternoon.

The sky cleared pristinely, sunlight blazing again.

The Crown Prince summoned Makia and Glenn anew, discussing the remaining schedule. With ground still soft and soldiers weary, he decided to halt there for the day.

Kamin ordered ample rest until morning and ended the meeting.

As Makia and Glenn exited after paying respects, they heard Leona's voice from within.

"Your Highness, since we have spare time, how about ordering the supply team for a lavish dinner tonight?"

"Hm..."

"Horses and men are fatigued from rushing. Much road remains. How about hearty meals tonight, and every other day, early stops for hot food?"

Makia paused unwittingly at the entrance, eavesdropping.

"Are the soldiers that frail?"

"Even iron bends under constant fire—how can soldiers endure mounting fatigue? We'll fight upon arrival; subsisting on rations daily, can they even wield swords properly?"

Kamin chuckled shortly.

"Did soldiers beg you? Your words flow eloquently."

"This servant worries for Your Highness's health more. You eat scant soldier fare daily. Less than your portion—you've visibly thinned lately."

"......"

"I understand for Nacha, and hastening schedule. But if Your body weakens and troops exhaust before battle, how fight the enemy?"

"......"

"Your Highness..."

"Every three days."

"Pardon?"

"Every three days, two extra rest hours, hot dinner permitted. Hear that, Makia?"

Kamin turned to the entrance.

Makia, lingering nearby, stepped in promptly.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Convey my will, readjust schedule."

"Yes, Your Highness."

As Makia left, Kamin eyed Leona.

"Satisfied now?"

"Wise as ever, Your Highness."

"Hmph, enough flattery."

Kamin summoned the supply captain, ordering a grand dinner.

The captain hurried to the cooks.

Soon, supply crew unloaded kitchen gear and ingredients from wagons.

The order spread; soldiers cheered excitedly.

Hearing the uproar, Kamin laughed incredulously.

Leona folded the quilt from Kamin's bed.

Seeing her carry it out, he asked where.

"Sun's out—thought to air your quilt."

"Leave it."

"It's damp."

"It'll dry as is."

"It'll smell if aired like this. Sun-drying ensures comfort tonight."

Reading her determination, Kamin waved dismissively.

"Fine. Do as you like."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Leona bowed and exited.

Outside, supply crew set a massive cauldron mid-camp for meat stew.

Soldiers clustered joyfully, watching.

Eyes sparkling with hot meal anticipation, camp warmed for first time.

The mood lifted Leona too.

She strode briskly to her wagon.

Finding clothesline there, she sought sunny clearing with quilt.

Ideal spot between New Moon Cavalry and Guard tents.

Leona scanned for help.

Supply busy prepping, she asked loitering soldiers.

"Excuse me, could you set this clothesline?"

Soldiers froze at request.

Leona peered past quilt.

Men stiff-faced, exchanging glances silently.

Then she noticed—all New Moon Cavalry.

Leona and soldiers stood silent standoff.

"What're you lollygagging for?"

Sudden boom; men flinched.

Jonathan strode over, glaring sternly.

"Deaf? Didn't hear the maid supervisor?"

His low pressure spurred action.

Instantly, line strung, quilt hung. Finished, they lined before Jonathan.

"Assemble at my tent post-dinner. Understood?"

At order, faces paled like thunderstruck.

Ignoring pleas, Jonathan approached Leona, softening instantly.

"Sorry, Lady Leona."

Leona glanced dispersing soldiers sadly, smiled wryly.

"Captain, always apologizing to me."

"Truly."

Jonathan scratched nape sheepishly.

"Superiors stiff, subordinates follow. Forgive them with magnanimity, Lady Leona."

"Forgive? Was it serious?"

Leona shrugged, shaking quilt.

Jonathan helped awkwardly.

"Leave it. I'll do it."

Leona demurred; he trailed back.

Seeming burdened, Leona paused, staring blankly.

Jonathan hesitated, troubled.

"Um... about the vice-captain's rudeness earlier..."

Leona burst laughing.

"Captain, you're New Moon Cavalry's advocate. I'm fine—his words didn't offend much. But..."

Her expression cooled gradually.

"His irreverence toward His Highness concerns me."

"Irreverence? No...!"

Jonathan flared briefly, then calmed at her steady gaze.

"Yes, vice-captain's words excessive. But no disloyalty to His Highness. Just upset over injured horse."

Jonathan bowed earnestly.

"Lady Leona, please forget his words."

Leona raised him, sighed shaking head.

"No need with me. I overstepped too. Just worried he'll err with His Highness. As Captain Makia's subordinate, surely discerning... but..."

"Of course. Though hot-tempered..."

Sudden uproar from camp depths.

Leona and Jonathan exchanged looks, dashed toward.

Chaos reigned.

Brawl between New Moon Cavalry and Guard.

Soldiers tangled, fists and kicks flying.

Kitchenware scattered, ingredients muddied.

Leona and Jonathan gaped.

Jonathan rallied, separated two fighters.

But Guard ignored, punching at him.

Soon Jonathan entangled too.

Supply crew watched from afar.

Leona asked one what happened.

Unknown cause; started with vice-captains Stan and Casey; interveners escalated to unit fight.

"Vice-Captain Stan and Casey?"

Leona turned to melee.

Then—

"Halt!"

Commanding voice boomed.

Soldiers froze uniformly, eyes shifting cautiously toward.

Captain Makia glowered.

Terrified, soldiers scrambled straight.

Crown Prince emerged from tent.

Glenn followed stone-faced.

Kamin scanned slowly, coldly.

Soldiers heads bowed, deathly still.

His gaze reached distant Leona.

Pointed index, crooked finger.

Leona hurried forward.

"You called, Your Highness?"

"Explain. What sparked this riot?"

Leona relayed supply man's account.

Kamin summoned Casey and Stan immediately.

Bloody-nosed Casey, swollen-eyed Stan knelt darkly before him.

"Unit vice-captains ignited this..."

Kamin muttered lamentingly; Stan and Casey heads drooped, Makia and Glenn faces hardened.

"Chance to explain first. Speak your grievances."

Both silent.

"Nothing? No words even with ten mouths."

Kamin scoffed bitterly, eyeing battered troops coldly.

"Fighting allies pre-war, weakening ourselves—what defense?"

Silence crushed all.

Kamin eyed cowering vice-captains.

Leona watched his face cautiously.

As expected, impassive.

His apathy deepened her worry.

"Makia. Glenn. Your subordinates—speak for them. How punish?"

They advanced, bowed.

"No excuse, Your Highness."

In unison: "As you decree."

Kamin stroked chin, pondering.

Spotted Leona lost in thought, lip-chewing.

Sensing gaze, she snapped out.

Their eyes met.

Kamin smirked wickedly.

"Leona."

Chill ran her spine at sly call.

"Y-yes... Your Highness."

"These two headaches are yours."

"......Pardon?"

"Take them. Use as you will."

To be continued in Volume 2.