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“Are you sure she didn’t mention how long she would be?” he asked the guards in front again.

“Harassing my guards, are you?” Light footsteps crunched in the grass behind Julian.

The young man whirled around to see a frowning white-haired girl, the attendants following behind her denoting her newfound status within the camp.

“My dearest Winnie,” Julian said with a charming grin.

Winter rolled her eyes hard enough for him to see the whites. But he could see her fatigue, her golden eyes dull and not as lively as they usually were.

“Move. I need to eat,” Winter grumbled, shoving past Julian.

.....

“Of course, of course,” he answered generously, taking the chance to follow her into the tent.

Winter treated his presence like air as she settled down onto a chair with a loud sigh. The attendants rushed back and forth from the tent, quickly producing a steaming lunch to Winter began to eat with gusto.

“I presume you did not just come to watch me eat,” Winter said between rapid bites.

Julian nodded. “That is true. I came to talk about the deal made between yourself and my uncle yesterday,” Julian said, showing his cards instantly.

Without needing a look from Winter, the stoic little servant girl who followed his sister around began to usher all the attendants out of the room, including herself.

“Don’t stick your nose into business that doesn’t concern you,” Winter warned. “When did you hear about it? Last night? This morning? Did your mom tell you to figure out the deal between us and report back to her?”

Winter’s words struck Julian like a dull sword during sword practice, blunt and painful.

“I don’t report to the empress,” Julian bit out.

“Well, someone around you definitely does,” Winter grinned at him after her dig, but it was not friendly in the slightest.

Before he knew it, Julian was already shaking his head. Although his new mother in this world always seemed to have his best interests in mind, he’d spent years cultivating his own people inside and outside the palace. The few by his side who worked for his mother had long been relegated to unimportant tasks.

Winter snorted at his doubt, sparking a little annoyance. “You were rich in your last life, huh?”

Julian sat down on Winter’s neatly made bed, raising a careless brow to disguise his discomfort.

“And what makes you think that?” he scoffed.

“You’ve got an air about you,” Winter waved her hand around as she viciously tore into some dried meat. “Like you’re so lofty you don’t have a moment to notice the ‘little people’ under you. I saw tons of your kind in my high school and university. Girls who could tell you exactly whose dick Ellie sucked at the party last week, but couldn’t tell you the name of their live-in maid even if you held a gun to their head.”

“Crass.”

Winter nodded. “Yup. Until the maid reported her father for tax evasion, sending the girl from her luxury downtown penthouse to the smallest school dorm.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Well, you’d better. The maid cleaned his study regularly and apparently that’s where she found out. You remind me of the dad. Unless someone or something directly concerns you and your interests, you won’t pay it any mind. I can’t wait for the day it bites you in the butt,” Winter sighed.

Julian felt uncomfortable at Winter’s inquiries into her persona. “But one can also argue that all people think and act that way.”

Winter clapped at Julian’s response. “You know, I just knew you’d say that. True, all people do operate that way to some extent. But for those with wealth and power, this is their mindset 24/7, for work and for family. Look at our imperial family. Who actually loves anyone in that freaking palace?”

Love. Julian thought about the way Empress Katya had looked at him since he was young, her green gaze that had been the first thing he’d seen when he woke up as a baby. Was that love? She had diligently overseen his first sword lessons, brought in the wisest tutors from the land, and showered him with the finest presents. Was that love?

Winter seemed to sense the question in his mind as she carried on speaking.

“Would your mom treat you so well if you weren’t smart and capable enough to potentially become the crown prince? It’s all about benefits. I can guarantee you that if you lost a leg during the war or got whacked hard enough in the head to become an idiot, she would fall pregnant within the next year,” she finished with a smirk.

There was a kernel of truth within what Winter said that scratched at Julian’s underlying doubts.

“It almost makes me feel bad for you. At least someone loved me in my last world,” Winter’s face warmed as she wistfully reflected on a past Julian would never know. “How many people do you think sincerely cried for you at your funeral?”

Words from a past Julian had long tried to bury roared back to life: “I hate you, Dad! I would rather have never been born than to have a shitty father like you!”

“How dare you? My children would most certainly-”

“Your highness, your presence has been requested in the strategy tent,” the harried steward said, his breath huffing from running from the tent to their location.

Winter eagerly shooed Julian’s figure away. “Run along, Julian,” she mocked in a high-pitched tone.

“Actually... your highness, Princess Winter,” the steward added for further clarity. “Your presence was requested as well.”

Julian and Winter shared a look, the latter’s face losing its mocking edge. For the two of them to be summoned, especially Winter, it was naturally related to the explosive matter of the assassin from the previous day. Julian watched his younger sister stand from her chair, her figure wobbling from dizziness. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d rushed to her side, but Winter waved him away.

“I’m fine,” she bit out, glaring at Julian before she stormed out of the tent. Julian stared at his empty hands before rushing out to follow.

“You realize you’re technically ‘rich’ now too, right?” Julian muttered darkly as the two siblings followed the steward to the strategy tent.

“I could’ve forgotten if you hadn’t reminded me. Do you know how much allowance I get? Not even 300 silver coins. Silver, mind you, not gold. I make more money selling flowers from the palace than that,” Winter pointedly reminded him even though he’d heard her clearly.

Julian looked away sheepishly, not even sure what his personal allowance was since Felix took care of it. All he knew was that thousands of gold coins were at his disposal for him to spend at his folly.

“But if you’re talking about my privilege, then yes I am ‘rich’,” Winter continued with air quotes. “I don’t go hungry, I’m clothed and I have a few servants. That’s the beauty of wealth without any power. On paper, I’m living very well, but between the two of us, I think we know whether or not my life is a fairytale dream come true. Can’t believe children actually dream about being a princess. It’s been more of a nightmare than anything else I could’ve been put through.”

“No need to rub it in,” Julian didn’t want to care. He’d never wanted to care and had done a darn good job at it until a pint-sized upstart he’d been too curious to ignore waltzed into his life and began to slowly, but surely hammer away at the walls that had been fortified for over two lifetimes.

“Oh my bad, Prince Charming. Is your mild guilt making it hard for you to listen?” Winter rolled her eyes hard. Julian wanted to complain about how often she seemed to do it to him, but he feared that if he brought it up she might start calling him a boomer.

During the following lull in conversation, the two could immediately sense that there was something different about the military camp. Two nurses were whispering to each other with generous smiles, another soldier sat near his tent crying and thanking Helio.

“What the fuck?” Prince Julian heard Winter mutter as she saw a few foot soldiers kissing the ground in tears.

“Language.”

“Shut up, boomer.” The word stabbed into his gut.

“Why you-!” But Prince Julian was forced to cut himself off as they arrived at the tent, the excited chatter of the highest-ranking commanders and captains already audible.

The throngs of decorated men within the room parted like the Red Sea after Winter and Julian were announced. Julian realized he hadn’t been mistaken, everyone within the strategy tent was indeed excited by some good news he was yet to hear. Settling down in his chair in the front, the expectation within Julian was not minimal as the strategy tent fell to a hush. Emperor Helio had arrived.

Prince Julian regarded the emperor, who’d taken the name of a god upon his ascension, with the wariness of a minister to his lord rather than the affection between father and son. The generals in the room had made way for Emperor Helio with great haste, lest they succumb to death by standing too close. A mixture of fear and awe-filled the eyes of those who respected the strength of the emperor, the mighty Erudian army collectively making up the main stronghold of Emperor Helio’s forces.

And at the end of the day, he who had the manpower had the true power of the Empire.

Out on campaign, the grand throne within the dazzling throne room was exchanged for a tall, oak carved throne, one that Emperor Helio settled into with great ease as if he’d been born for that chair.

“Men,” he began without prelude, “As some of you have heard, we have succeeded in capturing the original weaponsmith behind the eruptions. The artillery forces of the battle mages move to wipe out their main camps as we speak. Victory shall be ours by the time the sun is down.”