Elira rose from her bed and stretched with a yawn. The metal casket was as cold as usual. Nyx was still snoring, saliva drooping from the corner of her mouth.

  She spat on the floor. The taste still lingered. Out of all the things Nyx could have done to get back at her, she chose to put mud in her drink.

  Slapping cold water on her face, she put on her uniform and opened the door.

  The wind greeted her, harsh and unforgiving. Droplets froze on her face almost instantly. Behind her, Nyx turned and pulled the blanket tighter around herself, hiding from the cold.

  Elira stepped outside and headed toward the practice field.

  The soldiers turned their gazes away when they saw her. It was not surprising. She wondered how many of their friends she had killed. Probably a lot. Accidentally or not.

  Elira shoved her hands into her pockets to keep them from freezing. She hunched forward against the wind. Only a few turns remained before she reached the field.

  She met Viktor at the gate. He stood there with a cigar in his hand, as if he had been expecting her.

  “We do not have training today,” Viktor said. “And probably not for a while.”

  Elira blinked. “Am I graduated?”

  “No.” Viktor chuckled softly. He exhaled smoke, hiding the sigh that came with it. “We are going to have some guests. Gather your friends and make sure they do not cause any trouble.”

  “…I am not suited for such a role.”

  Viktor ignored her words and began walking away.

  “I trusted you,” he said without turning back. “Do not betray that trust.”

  Elira stood there with her mouth slightly open. Viktor disappeared after turning the corner.

  She turned around and walked back toward her room.

  The gate opened smoothly, as if its hinges had just been oiled. The road had been cleared of snow and ice, not only by soldiers but also by mages.

  Elira could not imagine a welcome grander than this.

  The arriving carriages proved worthy of such treatment. Their frames were carved by practiced hands and decorated with gold and jewels. The display of wealth was ridiculous. It was a level of extravagance she could not understand.

  Soldiers stood in formation along the road. They saluted in perfect synchronization as the procession entered.

  Elira and the other disposable assets stood in a secluded corner. Viktor had assigned them there. The place was less crowded and offered a better view, though she doubted that had been his intention.

  When Elira saw the symbol carved into the carriage door, her stomach churned.

  The smallest carriage stopped first.

  A squad of men stepped out. They were tall and broad-shouldered. Their steps were firm and disciplined. They looked like professionals.

  One of them stepped forward and raised his voice.

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  “Hear this decree of His Imperial Majesty. By the will of the Valecourt bloodline, His Imperial Highness Prince Adrien Valecourt and His Imperial Highness Prince Lucien Valecourt arrive to lead the soldiers of the northern front in the coming campaign.”

  Two men opened the doors of the other carriages.

  From the first stepped a man dressed in white embroidered with gold. He walked forward without sparing the soldiers a glance. A servant quickly unrolled a red carpet beneath his feet so his boots would not touch the dirt.

  The second carriage opened.

  Another man stepped out with three women beside him.

  He held two of them close, his hands roaming freely across their waists and hips. The women wore fur coats against the cold, but the clothing beneath barely covered their skin.

  The soldiers lowered their heads in unison. No one dared to look.

  From their similar features, Elira guessed the two women were related.

  The third woman wore a maid uniform. It had been modified to emphasize her figure, revealing generous curves at her chest and hips. She held an umbrella above the prince, shielding him from the falling snow.

  Even the handle of the umbrella had been carved and decorated with gems.

  “What a man of culture,” Nyx whispered beside her with a giggle.

  Elira slowly turned her head toward her. Her neck creaked with the movement.

  “Shut your mouth and lower your head before you get us all killed.”

  Nyx stepped back slightly under the glare. Elira’s eyes seemed to glow, and it was not a pleasant glow.

  “Hey, where is all that rage coming from?” Nyx said nervously. “If it is about yesterday’s prank, I‘m sorry, okay?”

  Elira turned away. Her hair fell forward and hid her face. Her whole body trembled.

  “Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

  The hall was full of people. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. Thick carpets covered the floor.

  The princes were generous. They had brought decorations and exotic food with them. The tactical hall had been turned into a ballroom to celebrate their arrival.

  The soldiers were allowed to participate. Even the disposable assets could attend, though only in the far corner.

  Elira poked the meat on her plate. The meat was soft and juicy, marinated in wine and spices she could not pronounce. It tasted delicious, yet the smell made her want to vomit.

  A hand touched her shoulder and Elira almost jumped.

  “Are you feeling well? Do not push yourself too hard.”

  Elira turned to face Oren. The man was always covered in rags, so seeing him in proper clothes felt refreshing.

  “I am fine. I am not mad about Nyx’s prank either, so do not worry.”

  “If you say so.” Oren gave her a concerned look. “Enjoy the food. You will not get another chance like this.”

  He walked away.

  Elira put the plate down. She had no appetite anyway.

  She looked around the hall.

  Nyx was sitting in the corner, repeatedly stabbing her food with a fork. Oren walked toward her.

  Mira stood in a dark corner, her robe covering her completely while she quietly ate.

  Sera and Garrick were sitting together. She leaned heavily against him while teasing him nonstop. Garrick kept facepalming.

  Elira raised an eyebrow.

  I guess they finally did it.

  She looked around again. Some soldiers were enjoying themselves. Others looked tense, and she could not blame them.

  At the center of the hall, the princes were speaking with Viktor. Elira wondered what they were discussing. From a distance they did not too bad.

  She moved her eyes away.

  Ivan and Katya wandered from table to table. Katya piled food onto the plates Ivan carried. Both of them were smiling widely.

  They had not fought in any real battles yet. Their optimism was still intact.

  The problem was that they were getting closer to the center of the hall.

  The guards around the princes had started eyeing them carefully.

  Elira stepped forward.

  “Hey.”

  “H-hello. What do you need?”

  Ivan smiled awkwardly and stepped back. He still seemed traumatized after the incident with his balls.

  “Stay in our corner. Don’t cause trouble.”

  “Ah. Sorry. We will go back now.”

  Katya stared at the distant food tables with puppy eyes.

  “We really cannot go there?”

  “Nope. Go back.”