Klaire stirred the soup, her eyelids gradually drooping as drowsiness overtook her.
"Klaire?" Susan inquired while gently shaking Klaire's shoulder.
Klaire turned her gaze to Susan, replying, "Yes, yes?"
With a sigh, Susan remarked, "Did you not get any sleep? You appear quite tired."
Klaire offered a smile and scratched her head, explaining, "I wasn't able to sleep well last night."
Susan shook her head disapprovingly and gently pushed Klaire toward her tent. "You need to rest until you have gotten enough sleep. Do not even think about coming out until I say so. You have been working extremely hard; it is time for you to take care of yourself."
"But I—"
Susan interrupted by draping a blanket over Klaire, asserting, "I won't leave until you fall asleep. David! Keep an eye on the soup!"
Klaire grasped Susan's hand, conceding, "Alright, I will rest, but please do not let me hinder your work."
"Are you sure?" Susan asked, concern evident in her voice.
Klaire nodded in affirmation.
Perhaps she was genuinely exhausted; Klaire soon fell asleep as soon as she lay down on the bed.
Meanwhile, Susan, David, and the others busily distributed food to the soldiers and the elderly.
Suddenly, a citizen proclaimed, "His Highness the Crown Prince has arrived! Help is here!"
Another citizen shouted with enthusiasm, "We're going to be saved!"
The cheer resonated loudly, but Klaire remained sound asleep.
As Susan and David observed the troops advancing, David spotted Jake among them.
"Jake!" David called out, and Susan echoed his excitement. Sarah, perched on David's shoulder, waved enthusiastically at Jake.
Jake smiled, relieved to see his family safe.
"I told you they would be fine," Bromar remarked confidently.
There were approximately nine military evacuation camps established throughout the area, with the Merithor Military Evacuation Camp being just one among the many.
At the forefront of the procession was Prince Alaric, closely followed by Sir Hugon Stonehelm. Behind them marched the Iron Shield Knights, trailed by the remainder of the troops.
The contingent soon passed through the Merithor Military Evacuation Camp, making their way toward the Vexhart Military Campground, the primary base of operations.
"Your Highness!" exclaimed Viscount Dalton Ironclad, his excitement palpable as he greeted his friend.
Viscount Dalton was a tall and muscular man, characterized by his striking red hair and vibrant orange eyes. Despite his imposing physique, which might intimidate some, he had a friendly demeanor that was evident in his relaxed tone.
After taking a seat, Dalton leaned back and exclaimed, placing his hands behind his head, "There was no need for you to come all this way, Your Highness; I can manage everything just fine."
Prince Alaric responded with a sneer.
Dalton playfully patted Prince Alaric's shoulder and remarked, "I heard you gave the Dyrna Ring to Lady Lunette—of all people! You actually left it with her!" He laughed heartily, wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes.
Alaric smiled at the comment.
"So, how do you plan to retrieve it? Lady Lunette is no ordinary person either," Dalton chuckled. "I would have thought you'd want to eliminate her on sight, yet surprisingly, you did not. But if you had killed her so quickly, it wouldn't have been in your character at all. She is either extraordinarily lucky or in serious trouble."
Prince Alaric replied with a grin, "You're one to talk, Dalton."
Realizing he had perhaps said too much, Dalton quickly zipped his lips. "Oops, my apologies; I spoke out of turn."
At that moment, Hugon interjected, "Dalton, what is the current situation?"
Dalton's smile gradually faded as he responded, "It's not good, but it's not entirely bad either. The resistance is stronger than I anticipated. It feels as though we are not merely contending with them; given our considerable strength and the multitude of enemies we face, it is not surprising."
Prince Alaric then inquired, "What are the casualties?"
"Five thousand," Dalton reported. "Half of those were villagers and travelers, while the other half were our soldiers."
"How many soldiers do we currently have?" Alaric asked.
Dalton replied, "Including those you brought, we have fewer than twenty thousand. I've requested reinforcements from Duke Reynold and Count Silvermore, but the letters likely won't arrive for a few days."
Prince Alaric nodded in understanding. "I see. Ah, it's about time I re-engage in the fray"
Dalton chuckled at the remark.
Hugon remained silent, contemplating the situation.
War was no stranger to Alaric; some even referred to him as a war maniac, a title he bore with a mix of pride and acceptance.
In the open area of the military base, Hugon addressed the assembled crowd, stating, "Attention! We will be organizing thirteen groups to oversee the military evacuation camps. We are seeking volunteers, and if we do not have enough, we will select individuals from among the troops."
Without hesitation, Jake stepped forward to offer his assistance.
Hugon approached Jake, holding a piece of paper in his hand. "Jake Gilbin, you are assigned to the Merithor Military Evacuation Camp."
"Yes, Sir!" Jake responded promptly.
Hugon continued, "Very well. The groups will be deployed tonight. We cannot afford to waste any time. While some of our brothers are heading into battle, it is essential that others remain to protect our citizens."
Shortly thereafter, the groups dispersed to their designated camps.
Klaire awoke from her slumber and glanced outside, realizing with dismay that she had overslept.
She hastily tied her hair and hurried outside.
"Susan, I apologize for oversleeping… Jake?" she exclaimed.
Jake, who was enjoying a bowl of soup, turned to her and said, "Klaire, you're awake."
Klaire smiled at him, surprised by his unexpected presence.
Susan approached Klaire, saying, "We were just talking about you."
Klaire pointed to herself, asking, "Me?"
Susan guided Klaire to sit next to Jake. "Eat your food before it gets cold," she instructed.
Klaire nodded in agreement.
Jake smiled at her.
As Klaire washed the dishes, she pondered, when did Jake arrive? As a member of the Iron Shield, what was he doing here? The male lead is not here right? She shook her head, dismissing the thought. "What am I thinking? Out of sight, out of mind," she murmured to herself.
Just as she turned to place the dishes away, she noticed Jake in the distance, giving instructions to a soldier.
When Jake spotted her, he smiled, and she smiled back.
Klaire began walking toward the storage tent, only to sense that Jake had caught up to her.
"Let me help," Jake offered, taking the basket from her hands.
Klaire found herself unable to refuse his assistance. As they walked, she inquired, "Since when did you arrive..Sir Jake?"
Jake scratches his hair," I rather you call me just 'Jake' like usual, Klaire".
Klaire smiles then nodded.
Jake continued to respond, "I just arrived this morning. I volunteered to supervise here as soon as I realized you guys were here"
Klaire nodded thoughtfully. "Um, you mentioned before that you are a knight of the Iron Shield, right?"
Jake nodded enthusiastically.
"Shouldn't the Iron Shield be protecting the Crown Prince? Why are you all out here?" Klaire asked.
Jake smiled and explained, "Didn't you hear? The Crown Prince is leading this war, which is why we are stationed here."
Klaire stopped in her tracks, taken aback.
Jake looked back at her and asked, "Klaire?"
Klaire quickly regained her composure and followed him, her mind racing with questions. "Does that mean the Crown Prince is currently at the border? Will he remain for the entirety of the war, or will he return? What about the Crown Princess selection?"
Jake turned to her, noting her curiosity. "You seem quite interested in the royal family," he remarked.
Klaire laughed nervously, "I'm not from the city, so I find matters like that particularly fascinating. It's perfectly fine if you don't feel comfortable sharing."
Jake smiled and shook his head, reassuring her, "The Crown Princess selection is currently on hold. As for the Crown Prince, I'm confident he will stay for as long as the war remains unresolved. However, it likely won't be for long; the Crown Prince is not to be underestimated; this is his area of expertise."
Klaire smiled nervously, "I see."
Once Klaire reached her tent, a wave of panic washed over her. The Crown Prince—the male lead of this novel—is here? How could this be possible? Why here? With the war raging on, she can't possibly escape.
Sitting on her bed, her legs trembled as she contemplated her situation. She needed to take action, but perhaps it wasn't as dire as it seemed. She tried to calm herself, reminding herself that if she panicked too much, she might inadvertently reveal her identity. Yes, Klaire just needed to relax; he doesn't even know who she is. After all, she had short hair and her eyes… In a rush, Klaire grabbed a mirror to check her reflection. She sighed as she observed, noting, "It's still brown…"
That night, Klaire attempts to sleep, but the fear and nightmares from the previous day continue to haunt her, preventing her from resting peacefully.