Worry

Karl listened patiently to his mother's slightly agitated questioning, trying his best to make his tone sound as light as possible:

"Mom, don't worry. Brendan and Roland will certainly go. One is in charge of the recruit camp, and the other is in charge of the crucial logistics. But this time, I must go myself."

He looked into his mother's eyes and explained earnestly, "This is the first time this has been our Carnford's first proactive attack in external warfare. None of us have experience, including me. I'm not comfortable relying solely on Brendan and Roland."

"Moreover, as a Lord, I also need to personally experience such battles, accumulate command experience, and understand the actual operation of the army in the field. Otherwise, when faced with larger-scale battles in the future, can I just hide in the castle and make decisions based solely on other people's reports?"

He paused, his voice softening, tinged with earnestness. "People need to keep learning and growing, don't they, Mom?"

Lady Eileen stared blankly at her son, at his young yet resolute face.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say something more, but all the words stuck in her throat when she met her son's eyes.

She understood that she could no longer change the child's decision.

He was no longer the fledgling who needed her constant protection and shelter from the wind and rain, but an eagle with growing wings, determined to face the storm and soar through the sky.

In the end, all the unspoken advice turned into a long sigh filled with endless worry.

Princess Louise, sitting opposite Karl, seemed to be frozen in place from the moment she heard the word "war."

When she heard Karl confirm that he would personally lead the troops into battle, she was struck dumb, completely frozen in place.

The silver spoon slipped from her hand uncontrollably and fell with a clatter into the delicate porcelain plate, making a jarring sound that stood out starkly in the silence.

War, Lord personally leading expeditions... these words, to her, originally only existed in the dry reports in the court, the yellowed records in history books, or the distant and vague legends of bards.

They belong to a world completely different from hers, a world filled with bloodshed and gunpowder.

However, at this moment, this world suddenly crashed into her life, approached her, and even directly concerned Karl's life and death.

Watching Lady Eileen's agitated questioning and Karl's firm reply, witnessing the silent struggle between the two and Mrs. Eileen's eventual helpless compromise, Louise felt somewhat suffocated.

Looking at the tears in his mother's eyes and his wife's pale profile, Karl felt a surge of intense guilt and reluctance.

He tried to say something lighthearted to break the heavy, suffocating atmosphere and dispel their worries:

"Don't worry too much, really. We are very well prepared and have a numerical advantage. The Sauron tribes are scattered and have no decent defenses. This mission is just to clear out some minor threats in the north, like... like an enhanced patrol and mopping-up operation. It will be a quick and decisive battle, and there won't be any real danger..."

However, his words of comfort seemed so pale and powerless at this moment, even somewhat clumsy.

What war is "without danger"? No matter how thorough the preparations, it is impossible to completely eliminate the possibility of unexpected events.

Lady Eileen's shoulders trembled slightly, and then large tears began to slide down her cheeks without warning, initially silently, before she began to sob quietly.

Tears dripped onto the plate in front of her, leaving a small wet patch.

No matter how strong and sensible she appears in public, and no matter how heroic and decisive her son is now, in his mother's heart, he will always be the child who needs protection.

The news that she was about to personally go to the battlefield and face swords could still easily shatter all her feigned composure, exposing the softest and most fearful corner of her heart.

Karl quickly got up, walked around the table, went to his mother's side, bent down, and gently patted her back, awkwardly comforting her.

"Don't cry, Mom, it's really alright. You have to believe me, believe in Brendan and the others, believe in our Carnford army. We've made the most thorough preparations, we'll definitely win the battle, and we'll definitely come back safe and sound."

Lady Eileen raised her tear-filled face, looked at her son so close to her, and choked out, "Karl... swords have no eyes... the battlefield is ever-changing... how can I not worry when you lead troops into battle... I..."

Her words were interrupted by an even more torrent of tears, and she sobbed uncontrollably.

She knew the cruelty and ruthlessness of war, and she understood that her son was going not only to fight, but also to consolidate this foundation, carrying the hopes of thousands of soldiers and tens of thousands of people. The heavier the burden, the greater the danger he faced.

As Karl gently comforted his mother, he caught a glimpse of Princess Louise sitting opposite him out of the corner of his eye. Although she was trying her best to turn her head away and bit her lower lip, not wanting him to see her loss of composure, she was actually quite upset.

But the slight trembling of her shoulders and the way she quickly raised her hand to wipe her eyes before quickly lowering it again ruthlessly revealed that she was also silently shedding tears.

The figure, struggling to suppress grief and maintain composure, appeared exceptionally frail and helpless in the flickering candlelight.

Karl's heart softened again, and a strange, bittersweet feeling welled up inside him.

He turned to Louise, his tone unconsciously softening, carrying a gentleness and apology that even he himself didn't realize. "Your Highness, you... there's no need for this. I assure you, this mission will be swift and decisive. If all goes well, we might be back in half a month, at most a month. You and Mother can rest assured and wait for good news in the castle. It's safe here; Edgar and the others will take good care of everything."

Louise didn't turn around or speak. Her trembling shoulders seemed to subside slightly because of his words, but she maintained her reserved posture with her back to him, as if trying to hide all her worries and tears from him.

This dinner, which should have been a warm and cozy affair, ended hastily in an atmosphere permeated with deep sadness, worry, and unspoken oppression. The food was barely touched, remaining cold on the plates.

After Lady Eileen had cried, her emotions gradually calmed down.

She was no ordinary woman; she was a noblewoman who had experienced the storms of her family and witnessed the ways of the world.

She knew that war was inevitable and the army would set off the next day. As the Lord's mother, she could not show too much vulnerability at this moment, lest she increase her son's psychological burden.

She wiped away her tears, took a few deep breaths, and forced herself to cheer up.

She held Karl's hand and gently, repeatedly gave him many small but loving words of advice:

"Make sure you wear plenty of clothes, it gets cold in the mountains at night... Remember to eat on time, don't go hungry... Stay alert while sleeping, but don't stay up too late... Be careful, weapons can be dangerous, don't always be at the forefront... Brendan and Roland are reliable, listen to their advice..."

She chattered on and on, as if she wanted to express all her concerns for the next month or even longer in this one moment.

Finally, she stood up and hugged her son tightly, as if trying to pour all her worries and reluctance into that embrace.

She whispered firmly in Karl's ear, in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Come back safely, Mom is waiting for you."