Chapter 282: A Regretful Letter

The day started with a loud trumpet blaring across the air.

I jolted awake as Feyt, the sound almost stinging my ears, and that ended up waking Carine up early way too early as well, even earlier than usual.

Did they really have to blare out the horn this early?

The tournament won’t start until noon, though.

Still, as much as I wanted to bury my faces into my respective pillows, waking up early gave one wonderful perk: zero foot traffic and nice, clean air to breathe.

…

I was on a jog on both bodies, taking separate routes that I had made sure would never cross paths. I wanted to warm up my muscles but not push them too hard, and jogging was a quick and fun way to do that.

But I wanted to do more than just warm up my muscles. I also wanted to do a little reconnaissance. So, I routed Carine’s track near the northern area of the academy grounds to get a close look at the arena.

I arrived near the arena as Carine, as planned in my route, and I got to see the progress firsthand.

Flags, banners, and academy crests were plastered across every place they could be placed. Staff and student volunteers were sweeping away dust and debris, while a sea of outside merchants and stall owners were hauling in crates of food, souvenirs, and questionable-looking souvenirs.

Thankfully, the road is wide enough so that I wouldn’t have to weave through the workers there and disrupt their work, but as I passed by the arena’s main gate, I caught a glimpse of the inside.

Everything looked identical to the last time I saw it in full, back during Ricent and Mirabelle’s match, except for the wall in the back, which looked conspicuously cleaner, smoother, and newer than the walls surrounding it.

Good to see Ricent’s legacy still living on.

Before long, I had jogged my way out of the crowd and onto the quieter parts of the academy grounds. As I continued my routine, I breathed a deep breath and let it out.

So, this is really happening, huh?

At first, I didn’t really know why I was so excited and anticipating this tournament, or even the preliminary tournaments back then. I mean, back when I made that promise to the Third Prince about doing my best, I thought of it as a massive bother.

But somewhere along the way, after training for the tournament, training with Instructor Liz, and honing my skills more and more, I began to remember why I even bothered to enter this academy.

To get stronger.

And so far, I had been improving myselves by fighting, be it in class, in training, or in the preliminary round.

Now that the slacker crowd had been thoroughly weeded out during the preliminaries, the remaining roster was made entirely of people who would take training seriously. I was honestly quite excited.

How much stronger were the opponents there going to be?

What kinds of lessons could I learn from fighting them?

And how much stronger could I be in the future?

I’d finally found the spark that made this academy interesting, and it sure beats dying of boredom through the first-year curriculum.

So, as I finished both of my jogging sessions, successfully avoiding meeting myselves along the way, I returned to my dorms to freshen up and prepare for the tournament.

—

The clock was nearing eleven, and the entire academy had turned into a loud, cheerful chaos.

The sound of the crowd echoed endlessly through the windows and down the dorm halls. The smell of roasted meat, sweets, and spices drifted through any openings in my dorm rooms. And from Carine’s room, I could see the sea of people crowding the northern area of the academy, with most of them being non-students.

They were the spectators coming to watch the arena, AKA the thousands of eyes who would be watching me in the arena soon enough.

Even though the first day would only consist of first-round fights, the crowd was still impressive. I couldn’t even imagine how crowded the academy would be during the final day.

Honestly, the entire vibe felt like a small town festival, and the energy was kind of infectious. Both of my bodies were begging my brains to step outside and grab some of those juicy-looking meat kebabs and spend the day window shopping, and Carine’s eyes certainly weren’t helping in that regard.

But I resisted the urge. I needed both of my bodies in tip-top shape for the next three days.

I only had two matches planned for today, both of my bodies’ first-round matches. Both of my opponents were people I didn't know personally, and I had no intention of scoping them out.

I wanted to fight them right then and there, and learn about them through clashing our blades.

Tomorrow would be the main meat of the bracket after half of the roster was filtered out. And if I ever made it past that, I would be in the semifinals and grand finals on the third day.

The second day might be the more demanding one in theory, but I had no doubt the finals would demand more out of me in the long run.

So, I put my focus back on my mental prep as I continued to stretch and loosen my bodies.

Just then, a familiar knock echoed through the door.

“Lady Carine, are you available?” Leila’s voice flowed through the door.

“Come in; it’s not locked,” I called out, straightening my posture.

The door swung open smoothly as Leila stepped inside. She held a thin envelope bearing a wax seal with my family crest stamped on it.

“A courier delivered this around half an hour ago, Lady Carine,” she said, holding it out to me. “It’s from Lady Reyna herself.”

My eyes widened for a fraction of a moment before I calmly took the envelope.

“Thank you, Leila,” I said as I made my way to my desk. I cracked the seal open and pulled out the thin parchment, unfolding it. It only took me a second to read fully, as usual, and the handwriting was definitely Mother’s.

The letter was short and simple.

“Your Father and I will not be attending the arena today, nor will we be attending tomorrow. We will sit in our seats only on the third day. Do not disgrace our name.”

I let out a dry chuckle.

Harsh as ever, huh?

Basically, Mother was saying that if I lost before the third day… I’d be a disappointment.

I calmly folded the letter back and let out a silent sigh, a faint smile plastered on my face.

If I hadn’t already promised the Third Prince, this letter alone would have made me take things seriously. I was sure this was probably her way of encouraging me… somehow… but I was planning to give it my all anyway.

Still, I could say that my goal had shifted. It was no longer just about doing my best; it was about ensuring I’d see Mother and Father sitting in those seats on the third day.

The clock began to near noon, and soon, all contestants were to be called to the arena for preparations. And so, I tied up my hair as Carine, cleaned my collars and cuffs as Feyt, and got ready to head out.

—

Sareid Family Capital Estate, Dining Room

“Reyna… My dear… Are you absolutely certain that we shouldn’t leave now?!” A loud, almost groveling voice echoed from the estate’s dining room.

Kyrat paced back and forth near the fireplace, his brows furrowing as he bit his nails. He was already wearing his fine suit, preparing himself for a public appearance as a spectator in the arena.

“The clock is about to hit noon! What if they already started the exhibition matches?”

Reyna took a calm sip of her tea before turning to Kyrat. “I had already read the papers; there is no such thing as an exhibition match.”

“But what if Carine is up first? Or even Feyt? I need to know how much they’ve improved!”

“Tone it down, Kyrat. Raise your voice any higher, and you might actually crack the glass,” Reyna said, completely calm despite the desperation in Kyrat’s voice. “Besides, as I explained before, we would only be there for her when she achieves a milestone.”

“But entering the tournament is already a milestone!” Kyrat countered. “If I can’t see her or Feyt fight, if they lose, I might never—”

“—Do you seriously believe they would lose so easily?”

Reyna’s voice didn’t rise, but it made Kyrat freeze mid-pace. She set her teacup down onto its saucer with an audible clink.

"Have you already forgotten the contents of Leila’s reports?" Reyna asked, turning her sharp gaze directly onto him. "Besides the various… nonsense… she and Feyt were up to, Carine hasn't spent a single day slacking off since arriving at the academy. She has honed her fundamentals, sparred amongst others, sought expert training, and pushed herself well beyond the first-year curriculum. And Feyt has matched her step for step."

Kyrat opened his mouth to speak, but Reyna cut him off with a subtle glare.

"They did not train harder than anyone else in that academy simply to drop out in the early rounds. To insinuate they could fail today is nothing more than an insult to their efforts, and to insult the ones who could best even me in combat."

Kyrat swallowed hard before slowly pacing his way back to his chair. "I guess… you are right. Perhaps I got too excited."

Reyna nodded. “I’m glad you understand. We shall wait for her and Feyt to reach the semifinals, and then we may cheer for her as much as we want.” She took another composed sip of her tea. "It is only two days of waiting, Kyrat. It isn't going to kill you."

“Yeah, you’re right. Two days isn’t that long compared to how long it had been since she left the estate.” Kyrat chuckled before looking out at the sky towards the direction of the academy in the distance. “The third day it is, then.”

…

After leaving the dining room, Kyrat went to resume his duties in his office. Reyna went on to patrol the estate for a moment, checking on the guards and ensuring the household staff were maintaining order, before finally heading to her art room on the upper floors.

However, the moment she entered the room, she didn’t head straight for the easel. She closed the heavy doors behind her, stood motionless in the quiet room for a moment, and leaned her back against the door.

She let out a heavy sigh, tightening her hand into a fist.

“Two days… That’s far too long of a wait…”

She was slowly, deeply beginning to regret sending that letter.