"Do you even need to ask?" Lance didn’t waver; his finger swept them like a cold blade. "Of course—expulsion."

His words rode a bleak wind.

Because Lance stood there, Alice’s heart jumped like a startled bird, half joy, half shock.

Yet his answer doused that small fire.

She asked, voice tight as a bowstring, "For my father’s sake, can’t you spare them?"

The apprentices from her homeland burned red, shame and anger like hot coals.

They thought Alice had done no wrong. Why should she plead with a punk, just because they wanted that punk gone?

Lance spread his hands, then shook his head, a stone in a stream. "Your Highness Alice, look at their eyes."

"I don’t think they’d stop their foolishness, even if I forgave them."

Alice didn’t believe it at first. Hope fluttered like a moth.

Then she saw those stubborn eyes, hard as knotted wood, and her breath caught.

Lance pointed at Yuna, snoring softly on the big cat’s back like a curled kitten. "Their stunt almost got my maid killed."

"I don’t have your breadth, Your Highness. I can’t forgive the obstinate and the would-be murderers."

Alice lowered her head. Silence fell like snow.

The apprentices flared again, a brushfire blown by pride.

They never saw themselves as stubborn, much less as failed killers.

They meant to tell Head Instructor Bordeaux all about Lance’s old sins, like dumping a sack of mud into a well.

He wouldn’t hear it.

Bordeaux only flicked his hand, impatience sharp as a whip. "It’s settled. You’re all expelled. All fifty-nine. Not one slips away."

No sooner had the words fallen than ten battle-mages dropped from the sky like hawks.

They came to carry out the order, and because those fifty-nine had broken the Mage Association’s code, a steel rule.

They were professionals, calm as winter rain.

As they landed—Hold, Paralysis, Silence, Sleep.

In one breath, they stripped away every trace of resistance, like pulling thorns from a stem.

What followed was just procedure, a mill turning by itself.

Lance gave Alice a slight bow, a leaf falling on still water. "Your Highness Alice, if nothing urgent, I’ll take my leave."

He turned. She kept her head down, a shadow over a lamp.

He took one step to go—

Alice snapped her head up. Two wet tracks shone on her cheeks like twin streams.

Her fists clenched. "Lance! Since you’re here, couldn’t you come find me?"

She tried a smile, bright as a lantern. "When I heard you made the recommended list, I was so happy—"

Then her voice broke, rain in the reeds. "Why didn’t you come find me? Do you know how hard these six months of missing you were?"

Lance stopped, a blade halted mid-swing. "Of course I wanted to see you. Of course I wanted to come..."

After a few beats of quiet, he sighed like wind through pines. "Could I?"

"I set foot in the academy and did nothing, and a pack of compatriots came to kill me."

"If I’d come to you, what would they have done to me? To my friends?"

"And trouble clings to me now, like burrs."

"I just want you safe." Lance’s voice was low, steady as a hearth.

Faced with the knight’s bare truth, Alice lowered her gaze again, lashes like wet wings.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t know I’d brought you so much trouble, like a net I couldn’t see."

"I don’t mind," Lance said, simple as earth.

She stepped closer. Her slender hand pinched the hem of his cloak, small and warm as a sparrow. "Then... stay with me?"

"Six months apart, and so much happened. I just want a little while..."

Her voice turned pleading, a soft string. "Please, Lance?"

Lance let out a breath, a cloud in cold air. "All right. Just a while."

He called to the Mountain Wind Knight and the others not far off, voices like campfires on the slope. "I’ll leave the moving baggage to you. Handle some things with care."

"No problem, Blazing Fire Knight."

Lance turned back, the world shrinking to Alice at arm’s length.

"Let’s go."

"Mm."

Night by the lake.

The water lay black as ink.

A thin drift of fireflies rose, a pale spill of stars.

On a bench, Lance and Alice sat close, shoulders almost touching, like two reeds in one breeze.

"Thank you for staying with me, Lance."

"Don’t thank me, Your Highness."

At that title, a small pout bloomed; she pinched his arm, a kitten’s claw.

Softly, she said, "When did you learn that court talk? Can’t you call me like before?"

"How far back is ‘before’?"

"Just before~" Her meaning hung like perfume.

She clasped his arm, palm tracing the firm lines like reading bark.

"All right then, Alice."

"Mm-hmm, that’s better~" She drawled, sweet as honey.

As night deepened, starlight multiplied on the lake. Reflections and sky knitted together, weaving a dream.

Watching that dappled dream, Lance sighed. "Half a year."

"Yeah. Half a year," she echoed, voice a ripple.

Light wavered on the water.

"How’s your father?" Lance asked.

Alice smiled first, quick as a spark. "Dad’s lively these days~"

Then her eyes dimmed, a cloud crossing the moon. "But the fallout’s heavy. Dad and his cabinet are under a lot of pressure."

"The coalition’s losing. The Golden Eagle Legion has pulled back into the Mephis Republic."

Lance watched the motes, his voice low. "I see..."

Alice lowered her head to the water. "Mm..."

"What kind of pressure?" He turned to her, concern steady as a handrail.

"Dad and the others..." Alice’s words faltered, birds scattering.

"Is it the Heavenly Spirit Empire leaning on them?" Lance asked it plain.

She nodded lightly.

She looked toward the stars, eyes unfocused, like mist over fields. "There are more Celestial Spirits and inquisitors in the city every day."

"They keep grabbing people. The ones who come back carry scars. The ones who don’t... they’re said to be sent to the front."

"Many subjects protest to my father, but he’s powerless. I don’t know what to do either..."

"I see..." Lance’s sigh spread like smoke.

"What about Tulip Manor?"

The starlight in her eyes dulled. She lowered her head. "It’s become a garrison for Celestial Spirit troops."

Lance’s temper flared, a spark catching dry grass. "That’s your father’s property. Didn’t the duke stop them?"

"He tried..." Her tone was helpless, a hand against a flood.

"All right..." he murmured.

She lifted her face and hugged his arm, seeking shore.

"Lance, I’ve been afraid these six months."

"Afraid of what?"

She rubbed her cheek against his sleeve, a cat seeking warmth. "So many things..."

"And after you became famous, more people besieged Dad, demanding he drag you back."

"They say you should atone for Duncan, that since you’re strong now, you should rush to the front and bleed for them."

Her voice went small, tears gathering like rain. "I’m afraid they’ll want you to die out there."

Lance had no easy words. He only looked into those hurting eyes and stroked her cheek, lifting a tear like dew.

"I won’t go to the front," he said, firm as iron.

"Really?" Alice took out a handkerchief and dabbed her face, doubt a fine tremor. "What if they force you?"

"Relax. No one can touch me."

She broke into tears again, pear blossom in rain. "I’m still scared!"

"Even if you don’t go, I’m scared I’ll never see you again!"

Lance used his handkerchief and wiped her tears, gentle as a breeze.

When she calmed, he asked, "Why? If either of us wills it, we can meet anytime."

Alice looked down and gripped his hand tight, guilt winding like a vine. "Sorry, Lance. You might not know something."

The guilt in her tone put a stone in his gut.

Still, he opened the door. "What is it? Tell me."

She met his eyes and gathered her courage, a candle in the wind. "The royal house sent a marriage proposal to the Iron Duke. The Crown Prince wants to marry me."