Chapter 380. What Surprise Waits For Me By Lia...?

The silence that followed her words wasn’t empty; it was full thick with the shared understanding of two soldiers who had spent too long braced for an attack.

They sat together as the last vestiges of daylight surrendered to the night, the sky deepening from a bruised violet to a velvet black studded with distant, uncaring stars.

The training ground, once a place of sweat, blood, and shouted commands, now felt like a tomb of memories, empty and echoing. The physical exhaustion was beginning to set in, a heavy, throbbing ache in their muscles that made every movement feel deliberate and costly.

Lia broke the silence first, her voice barely above a murmur.

"You look exhausted, Instructor Wade." She reached up, her fingers surprisingly tender as she brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Her touch lingered for a moment too long to be merely platonic, her thumb tracing the faint tension lines etched between his brows. "Not just tired, but... you look like you’re carrying the entire kingdom on your shoulders like you used to do."

William closed his eyes at her touch, leaning almost imperceptibly into her palm. "Hm...? Yeah..."

"I feel like it, too," he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. "Between the palace intrigues, this endless investigation, training you and Kaela... I don’t think I’ve truly slept in weeks."

"Even when I close my eyes, I’m not resting, but it feels more like that I’m hunting something."

"And I’m running through every conversation, every suspicious glance from Alden, every detail that doesn’t fit... My mind won’t stop screaming at me to find the missing piece."

"That’s not sustainable," Lia said, her tone shifting from concern to something sharper, more admonishing. "You’ve said it yourself before."

"Back when we were worried about my limits instead of yours."

William let out a humorless huff of laughter, opening his eyes to meet hers. "I suppose it’s always easier to play the wise mentor than to actually follow the advice."

"Most useful advice usually is," Lia countered, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

Her eyes held a different kind of light now, one that wasn’t about strategy or survival but about something far more immediate and personal. The invitation in her gaze was unmistakable, a silent offer to set aside the swords and the secrets.

William felt the tightness in his chest; the knot of paranoia that had been his constant companion began to unravel.

"That sounds exactly like what I need right now," he said quietly.

They rose together, their movements synchronized despite the bone-deep fatigue that threatened to drag them down.

The walk back toward Catherine’s estate was quiet, the cool night air biting at their bare skin like tiny needles, making the promise of sanctuary all the more tantalizing. The moon hung low and pale over the city, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to follow them, reminders of the dangers that never truly slept.

When they reached Catherine’s home, the familiar comfort of the building wrapped around them like an old cloak. They bypassed the main halls, seeking the private sanctuary of her personal bath chambers.

As they approached the heavy oak doors, the warm, amber glow of candlelight flickered through the frosted glass panels, and wisps of steam curled lazily from beneath the frame, dancing in the moonlight like restless ghosts.

Stepping inside was like crossing a threshold into another dimension. The air was immediately thick, humid, and intoxicatingly scented with sandalwood, cedar, and dried lavender.

The oppressive weight of the academy, the constant vigilance, the clatter of steel, and the unspoken threats simply evaporated.

The heat hit them in a sudden, overwhelming wave, soothing the raw, throbbing ache in William’s joints. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the relentless gears of his mind slowed.

The constant ’what ifs,’ the tactical calculations, and the gnawing suspicion of betrayal—all of it began to recede into the background.

Here, behind Catherine’s thick stone walls, the conspiracy couldn’t reach them. The treaty couldn’t touch them.

The poison of Delmore’s politics couldn’t penetrate this steam-soaked silence.

The water in the great stone tub was perfect, scalding enough to sting the old bruises and fresh scrapes from training before melting them away into nothingness.

As they settled into the heated depths, the water lapping against their skin felt like a benediction, a physical washing away of the grime and trauma of their lives.

Lia’s laughter, soft and genuine, broke through the heavy haze of steam. It was a sound that felt foreign in their world of political assassinations and engineered tragedies; it was pure, unguarded, and achingly human.

It was the sound of someone who had briefly forgotten how to be a weapon.

As she moved closer to him through the water, her skin slick and warm against his, the accumulated tension of the past weeks began to dissolve completely.

It was replaced by a tenderness that felt both fragile and unbreakable, a quiet rebellion against the violence they both endured daily.

The candlelight flickered against the damp stone walls, casting dancing shadows that mirrored their own slow, intimate movements. Beneath the gentle intimacy of the evening, there was no urgency.

There was no need to plan, no need to strategize, no need to fight, and no need to protect.

For tonight, the world could burn, the kingdom could crumble, and the truth could wait in the darkness outside.

Here, in the golden haze of the steam and the soft glow of Catherine’s candlelight, they simply existed as two souls finding sanctuary in each other before the dawn demanded they become warriors again.

The water lapped gently against the stone rim as Lia settled into the heat, but beneath her calm exterior, her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She watched William close his eyes, his face finally slack with relief, and she felt a pang of something complicated, affection mixed with a desperate, terrifying resolve.

This wasn’t just about relaxation. She had been planning this moment since the first night they had spoken of real vulnerability.

A mischievous glint suddenly cut through her exhaustion.

"Don’t get too comfortable just yet, Instructor Wade," she said, her voice carrying a playful lilt that masked the tremor in her hands.

William opened one eye, squinting through the steam. "What do you mean? We finally found peace, Lia."

"Don’t ruin it."

Lia let out a soft chuckle, though her pulse spiked. "Oh, I’m not ruining it... I’m enhancing it."

"I have a surprise for you: something to actually help those muscles instead of just soaking them."

"But you have to wait here... Stay in the water, stay relaxed, and do not come looking for me until I come back."

"A surprise?" William asked, brow furrowed in suspicion. "Lia, what are you—"

"Just trust me," she interrupted, pressing a finger to her lips. "For once in your life, Instructor Wade, stop investigating and just trust."

Before he could protest, she rose from the water. The cool air hit her wet skin, sending goosebumps cascading across her shoulders.

She moved quickly, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around herself before slipping out of the bathchamber. Her bare feet made soft, padlocked sounds against the stone floor as she retreated to the adjoining dressing room.

Once inside, the playful bravado evaporated. Lia leaned against the door, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to the empty room. "What in the gods’ names am I doing?"

This wasn’t the Lia who could stare down a charging knight. This wasn’t the Lia who could calculate trajectory mid-leap.

This felt dangerous in a way no blade ever could. Her hands trembled as she reached into her travel pack, fingers brushing against a small, ornate vial.

She pulled out a rare, expensive massage oil she had acquired from a mercenary contact weeks ago, knowing exactly when she might need it. The scent of sandalwood and something spiced and warm filled her nostrils.

Then, her fingers found the second item. The fabric felt impossibly thin between her fingertips.

She pulled out the garment, a set of underwear that was less ’clothing’ and more ’suggestion.’ It was designed for a summer festival on a distant coast, meant to be worn under translucent beach silks.

It was daring, revealing almost everything, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Lia stared at it, her face flushing crimson.

"I look like a fool," she muttered, her inner voice screaming at her to put on her usual linen shifts and return to the bath as a friend. "He’s going to think I’ve lost my mind..."

"He’s going to see right through this."

She closed her eyes tight, pressing the cool fabric against her burning cheek. Her mind raced.

She thought of the war, the politics, and the constant threat of death.

She thought of how they spent every waking hour braced for impact. This vulnerability was a different kind of battlefield.

’But I want this,’ she thought fiercely, a sudden spark of defiance cutting through her shame. ’I want to be seen.’

’Not as a soldier, not as a student, but as a woman... with him.’

She took three slow, deliberate breaths, forcing the oxygen down into her lungs until the shaking began to subside. "Deep breaths, Lia..."

"You’ve faced worse than a man’s gaze."