“You forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget.” — Cormac McCarthy, The Road

  ???

  The Grand Auditorium was packed, as students from all years gathered for the second Debate Hall session of the year for the second years.

  Visiting dignitaries that consisted of military generals and commanders, and even Parliament members, as well as instructors, were seated in the back rows, while the students occupied the remaining seats.

  Nathan Hunt, however, barely noticed any of it. In fact, he’d been distracted since his return to the Academy after being summoned home by his father. Quieter, too. A fact that both Rem and Leighton had noticed, but they chose to stay silent.

  Today, however, Nathan sat stiffly in his seat next to Leighton, surrounded by the rest of their classmates, staring ahead but seeing none of it. Three students had already presented their debates and arguments, but Nathan barely registered a word. Not the speakers and their proposals, not the counterarguments from the audience, and not even the polite applause that echoed around him.

  He hadn’t even paid much attention to Rem since his return.

  Cassian’s voice kept echoing in Nathan’s head.

  The older Hunt brother had laid down the brutal truth of what was happening in the kingdom. He had shown Nathan classified reports detailing the dire state of affairs: the death tolls, the rise in illness, and even the number of people falling sick and dying from illnesses and diseases that they normally have the skills to treat.

  “We have ten skirmishes in House Hunt territory this year alone,” Cassian had told Nathan. “Our territories spanned the central areas of Alathia. And if we’re this bad off, imagine how the other Great Houses are faring. Especially House Kael. We’re stretched thin, Nathan. And you think that the militia can do anything? They don’t have the funding or the approval. Parliament has tied the army’s hands. And the Crown Prince doesn’t even seem to know.”

  Nathan’s hands clenched on his knees.

  He’d seen it with his own eyes when Cassian brought him to Ashbrook. The starving villagers, and the soldiers repairing their armour with whatever they could get their hands on. The unmanned watchtower because they couldn’t afford the oil for lamps. The abandoned fields, because the farmers couldn’t even afford the seeds to plant their crops.

  But more importantly, what weighed on him the most were the things that both Cassian and his father have revealed about Parliament’s actions. And even why the Ten Great Houses had grown increasingly hostile toward the council over the years.

  “The slashing of the budget is just the beginning,” His father had said tiredly. “The military branches, especially Protectorate and the garrisons, are on the verge of rioting. They’re all losing faith in the Crown, especially when each time a squad is sent out of the Imperial City, eight out of ten times, at least one of them would return in a body bag. We have black market auctions practically taking place out in the open, and none of us can do anything, as we neither have the clearance nor the budget! Even Black Ops is losing patience, and trust me when I say that is one military branch that you do not want to upset. The Ten Great Houses are all losing patience. Especially Lord Kael.”

  Nathan was jolted back to the present when he realised that Rem had taken the podium at some point during his spiralling thoughts. The Crown Prince was speaking earnestly now. A far cry from the nervous boy he’d once been in their first year. If anything, the Debate Hall sessions had sharpened and improved Rem’s public speaking.

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  “…We must continue to place faith in the voice of the people,” Rem was saying, with his voice carrying across the Grand Auditorium. “Civilian-led governance will allow for greater transparency. There would be less room for exploitation. Fewer opportunities for warmongering. I believe that we can create a better future built on peace and partnership.”

  Polite applause erupted from students and the Parliament aides in attendance. In one of the front rows, Nathan spotted Felix Carrington’s scowl, but a hand on his arm from Kaela Merrin stopped him from getting to his feet and telling Rem what he thought of him.

  And now that Nathan truly understood the dire situation in Alathia, he also understood why Felix had always been so antagonistic toward Rem.

  He stared at Rem as the prince took a slight bow amid the applause. Nathan, however, didn’t clap. He only stared at the prince he had sworn to serve and protect.

  ‘You don’t know,’ he thought. ‘You don’t know anything.’

  A hand rose from one of the seats, and Yuliana Nightray got to her feet coolly. There is, however, something in her eyes that told Nathan she knew that her words are pointless. That Rem isn’t listening to her. That her words would be ignored.

  “Peace and partnership are noble ideals,” she said coolly. “But words can be twisted, and promises broken. Talking doesn’t stop arrows or blades, and neither does it stop bandits and raiders from burning down homes, and taking women and children to be sold as slaves. Your Highness, with all due respect, if you want to govern, you need to enforce the laws, and not just dress it up in pretty words. Oversight and deterrence are what hold a kingdom together when everything else is falling apart.”

  The hall was eerily silent, with everyone staring at Yulia. She, however, wasn’t deterred. Her gaze was like steel as she looked at Rem. “So let me ask you this, Your Highness. If a war breaks out tomorrow, and if corruption rises again, if people die because of hesitation… Will you still cling to the hope that talking it out will be enough?”

  The silence that followed was suffocating.

  At the back of the hall, several of the military leaders were exchanging looks. Even some of the seniors that were in attendance were whispering to each other, as were the instructors.

  Rem looked at Nathan, but he averted his gaze.

  And then, a general got to his feet. Nathan recognised him immediately as General Callum Thorne, the same general who had observed their first war simulation. It felt almost like months ago at this point, though it had only been a few weeks.

  General Thorne’s expression was cool and unreadable as he gazed at Rem. “Your Highness, your ideals are admirable. But like what I’ve told you before, countless times, in fact, that ideals are just that. They belong in a parlour, not on a battlefield. Like how diplomacy doesn’t belong in a war zone.” On the podium, Rem flinched. “I fought in the war against Nuvelle. I watched friends and comrades bleed out in ditches, and scream for their lovers or their mothers, and none of us could do anything to save them. Not their comrades. Not even the doctors. And all the while, soldiers were dropping like flies as they fought in the name of their king and the kingdom, as Parliament debated whether to send more rations.” General Thorne folded his arms, eyeing Rem sternly. “If you believe mere words alone could protect this kingdom, Your Highness, then with all due respect, you’re not ready to lead it.”

  He sat back into his chair once more, even as Rem stiffened. And though he tried to hide his reaction to General Thorne’s words, the impact was clear. The murmurings from the students became louder, and Nathan looked around the hall.

  For the first time, he realised he’d made a terrible mistake. He’d spent years defending a dream while ignoring the fires burning all across the kingdom. For years, he’d huddled with Rem, joking and laughing, even as they made plans and talked about their dreams and plans for a peaceful future. Never realising that more than half of the kingdom was suffering and starving.

  Nathan swallowed a lump in his throat, looking at Rem, who was trying to smile despite the weight of the moment, and despite the harshness of General Thorne’s words.

  Nathan caught the whispers of some of the first years seated behind him.

  “…Isn’t the general a little harsh?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it is the Crown Prince.”

  “What’s so bad with wanting peace?”

  Nathan cringed. Rem had believed in that dream wholeheartedly. And Nathan had supported him in that dream, wanting to help Rem achieve his dream of becoming a benevolent king who could rule without utilising bloodshed and violence.

  But that was all it was. A dream.

  Nathan’s gaze turned towards Yuliana Nightray. Her expression was blank, but her gaze was sharp as she looked at Rem as he stepped down from the podium. And now that Nathan knew what to look for, he recognised the expression in her gaze as that of disappointment.

  ‘Leighton was right. So was Cassian,’ Nathan thought, swallowing the lump in his throat as guilt wrecked his frame. ‘She’s not trying to hurt him or undermine him, like I thought so often. She had been trying to prepare him. And I… I’ve been in her way the entire time.’

  The Grand Auditorium was slowly emptying as Debate Hall came to an end, with the students and visitors slowly dispersing. Beside Nathan, Leighton nudged his elbow. “Come on, we should go,” he said, and Nathan nodded, with both boys getting to their feet, slowly following the crowd out of the hall. “You normally gloat when Rem wins against Heiress Nightray.” Leighton gave Nathan odd looks. “What’s with you?”

  Nathan couldn’t find his voice for several moments. And when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual. “Just…a lot to think about,” he admitted at last. Leighton glanced at him, but didn’t press. “More importantly…” Nathan hesitated. “Leighton, do you have time after this? I need to talk to someone.”

  Leighton tilted his head, but thankfully chose not to ask any questions. He nodded. “Sure. Let’s go to my dorm.”