Departure
The next morning, Karl woke up naturally in a long-lost, deep sleep.
Perhaps it was the silent bond he shared with the Princess last night that brought him a strange peace. He felt unusually clear-headed, all the fatigue of the past few days vanished, and his spirits were fuller than ever before.
He instinctively tried to sit up, but as he moved, he felt something soft and warm holding his right hand.
He looked down and was shocked to find that he was still holding Princess Louise's hand tightly, their fingers intertwined just as they had been before he fell asleep.
His movement also woke the Princess from her light sleep.
Louise opened her eyes in a daze, her gaze still hazy from just waking up, and then she realized that the two of them were holding hands tightly.
Almost simultaneously, as if they had been burned, they quickly and somewhat frantically let go of each other's hands.
An awkward and subtle atmosphere filled the air. Karl coughed lightly, breaking the silence first, his tone apologetic. "Your Highness, I'm sorry... I slept too soundly."
Two barely perceptible blushes appeared on Louise's face. She lowered her head, tidied a strand of hair by her cheek, and said softly, "No... it's alright. How... how are you feeling now?"
She skillfully shifted the topic away from the awkward hand-holding incident and instead inquired about his well-being.
Karl felt a warmth in his heart at her thoughtfulness, smiled, and replied, "Very good, better than ever before. Thank you, Your Highness."
"That's good," Louise replied softly, and the two of them got up and began to wash and groom themselves.
The atmosphere remained somber at breakfast time.
Lady Eileen's face still bore obvious tear stains, and her eyes were somewhat red and swollen, clearly indicating that she had not slept well last night.
Karl saw this and felt a pang of sorrow in his heart. He gently comforted his mother for a long time, promising that he would be extra careful and return safely as soon as possible.
After dinner, Karl returned to his room, carefully washed and tidied himself, changed into the bearskin coat he had worn at his wedding, and put on the dark cloak that symbolized his status Lord.
He strode out of the castle, where Brendan was already waiting on the hillside with his warhorse.
Upon seeing Karl, Brendan immediately stepped forward to report, "My lord! The entire army is assembled! The supply battalion has already departed! The main force is arrayed according to the predetermined marching order and is ready to set off at any time!"
Karl stood on the high ground where the castle stood, looking down.
On the vast plain below the mountain, the army had already formed several neat square formations.
The Main Corps soldiers were clad in gleaming armor, their spears forming a forest, while the Musketeers stood in solemn ranks; the banners of the Fran City reinforcements fluttered in the wind; and although the Militia Regiment's formations were somewhat inexperienced, their morale was high.
The carts, horses, and supplies were arranged in an orderly fashion, and the entire army resembled a giant dragon poised to pounce, its silence concealing immense power.
All the soldiers' eyes were fixed on the cloaked figure on the high ground.
A heavy sense of responsibility and pride surged within Karl. He took a deep breath of the cold morning air, his gaze sharpening and resolute, and said to Brendan in a deep voice, "Pass on the order: proceed according to plan, set off!"
"Yes, sir!" Brendan mounted his horse and galloped down the hill.
Soon, a long and deep horn sounded, breaking the morning's tranquility, followed by a chorus of more horns.
Accompanied by the officers' commands, the massive army began to move forward like a slowly starting precision machine.
In an instant, the sounds of orderly footsteps, horses' hooves, and wheels rolling over the road merged together, forming a deep and awe-inspiring sound wave that spread northward.
Karl glanced back at the castle one last time. His mother, Eileen, and his wife Louise, stood silently watching him at the castle gates. He quickly walked back.
Lady Eileen could no longer hold back. She stepped forward and hugged her son tightly, tears welling up again and dripping onto Karl's shoulder.
Karl gently patted his mother's back and whispered words of comfort until she calmed down a little.
Then he looked at Louise.
Her Highness the Princess stood there quietly, her beautiful face filled with worry, but her eyes held a newfound determination.
Karl stepped forward, opened his arms, and gently hugged her.
This was a farewell that went a step further than the handshake last night, yet remained restrained.
Louise gently pressed her cheek against Karl's cool cheek, and whispered in his ear, in a voice only the two of them could hear, "Be careful."
"I will," Karl promised solemnly, "I'll be back soon. Please take good care of Mother at home, thank you."
"I will take good care of you, Madam. You must take good care of yourself too," Louise replied softly, her gaze gentle yet firm.
Without further hesitation, Karl turned around resolutely, strode towards his warhorse, and nimbly mounted it.
He waved one last time towards the castle, then pulled on the reins and spurred his horse along the hillside path, galloping down the mountain towards the surging torrent flowing northward.
Lady Eileen and Princess Louise stood for a long time in front of the castle gate, watching Karl's figure disappear around the bend in the mountain road.
After a while, they saw that familiar figure appear on the plain below the mountain, merging into the forefront of the marching group.
In that sea of armor and banners, his figure, though small, was like a pillar of strength, leading the army resolutely toward the unknown northern battlefield.