Three Hours Later after leaving the imperial palace.
The journey back to the Academy was a masterclass in psychological warfare, and Cassian was the sole casualty.
Inside the luxurious, velvet-lined royal carriage, Cassian sat by the window, his head resting against his hand as he stared blankly at the passing scenery. He had explicitly requested a quiet, solitary ride to mentally prepare himself for the impending chaos of the Joint Military Summit.
But instead, he was currently staring at an immovable wall of silver and steel that sat right across him.
Sir Lucien Arden, the Knight Commander's massive frame took up nearly two-thirds of the carriage's interior space, his heavy, polished sabatons resting mere inches from Cassian's boots. His holy broadsword was propped perfectly between his knees, and his ice-blue eyes were fixed on Cassian with a terrifying, unblinking intensity as he sat quietly as well.
"Sir Arden," Cassian finally spoke, his voice dropping into a flat, thoroughly exhausted deadpan. "The capital is three miles behind us. The royal guard entourage is currently flanking this carriage. There are fifty elite vanguard knights riding in our perimeter. So... why exactly are you sitting inside my personal cabin instead of leading your men from a horse?"
"The perimeter is secure, Your Highness," Lucien replied, his deep, smooth voice completely unbothered by the prince's irritation. He didn't even shift his gaze. "However, after the severe security breach at last night's banquet, I have determined that the primary threat remains within immediate striking distance of your personal space. Therefore it is my absolute, unconditional duty to remain by your side."
"I am perfectly capable of breathing without your supervision," Cassian snapped, clicking his tongue in sheer disbelief.
'Look at this guy. He's not a guard; he's a yandere anchor keeping me grounded in this nightmare dimension! He's still thinking about what Thoris said last night and he's marking his place.'
"You almost drank a highly restricted divine aphrodisiac last night because you were too busy playing card tricks for your father's concubines, your stepmothers." Lucien reminded him, his voice dropping into a low, dangerously deep register that sent a sudden, unbidden shiver straight down Cassian's spine. Lucien leaned forward slightly, the silver plates of his armor clinking softly.
"If I had not been standing directly behind your chair, My Prince... you would currently be locked in a royal chamber with a barbarian prince, dealing with an entirely different kind of... structural emergency."
Cassian's face instantly went pale as the phantom memories of timeline eleven, and the infinite diaper changes violently threatened to reload in his brain. He aggressively cleared his throat, turning his head back toward the window to hide his brief panic.
"The glass was shattered. And the issue was resolved," Cassian muttered defensively. "There is no need to carry that suffocating, overprotective bloodlust all the way to the campus any further."
"Well the eastern stray is currently riding his tundra-beast right alongside our vanguard," Lucien whispered, his ice-blue eyes flashing with a cold, territorial promise as he looked out of the opposite window.
"He has spent the last two hours trying to peer through the carriage glass to catch a glimpse of you. I will remain exactly where I am, Cassian. Until the winter ends... you are never escaping my sight."
'What a load of crap.' Cassian thought, burying his face in his hand as the carriage bumped along the cobblestone road toward the Academy gates.
'Not only do I have a multi-elemental magic cult waiting for me at school, there's also a barbarian prince who wants to drag me to a cave and copulate with me. I also have suddenly permanent Holy executioner who won't even let me have a private bowel movement. If I don't figure out dimensional leaping in the next forty-eight hours, I am going to lose my goddamned mind.'
*****
With a hyper-possessive Knight Commander acting as a human shield and a wild Barbarian Prince practically breathing down the carriage's neck, arriving at the Academy was never going to be a simple affair.
The task of arranging Thoris's accommodations became an immediate, high-stakes political chess match. The Academy Headmaster and the professors couldn't just throw the FirstBladeoftheHorde into a standard student dorm—he was a foreign royal with a massive entourage, an armored tundra-beast, and a severe lack of appreciation for "soft-skin" rules.
So then to prevent a literal civil war from breaking out before breakfast, the Academy logistics team coordinates a brilliant, highly segregated arrangement. Thoris and his personal elite guard are assigned to the 'West Wing Annex'. It's a massive, rugged stone pavilion that usually houses visiting military dignitaries during joint exercises. It has its own private courtyard, heavy fortified walls, and—most importantly—an detached, reinforced stable area specifically designed to hold large, aggressive northern war-beasts without them eating the Academy's refined thoroughbred horses.
While it is technically separate, the West Wing Annex shares a central, open-air training plaza with Cassian's private residential quarters. The professors did this on purpose to honor the Emperor's mandate that the two princes should interact and evaluate one another as much as they can within the duration of three months.
Lucien Arden, naturally, immediately exploits this layout. The moment the keys are handed over, Lucien forcibly requisitions[1] the Command Tower situated directly between Cassian's residence and Thoris's annex. Lucien essentially turns the tower into a fortified garrison, establishing a 24-hour Holy Vanguard watch that oversees every single exit and entry point of Thoris's territory.
After stopping by the headmaster's office for a quick greeting, the royal carriage proceeded throughout the campus and finally ground to a halt in the central courtyard of the Academy. The moment the door opened, Cassian stepped down, taking a deep, appreciative breath of the crisp campus air.
'Finally,' Cassian thought, his eyes drifting toward the distant training fields where the rhythmic, terrifyingly synchronized sounds of his underclassmen cult executing their elemental drills echoed beautifully.
'I am back to my domain. Back to where I hold the leash.'
"Ah, the scenery here is far less suffocating than the capital," a deep, booming voice rumbled from behind.
Thoris leaped down from his massive, armored tundra-beast with a heavy thud, entirely ignoring the frantic, sweating Academy ministers who were trying to hold a welcoming banner. The Barbarian Prince dragged his jagged greatsword casually along the cobblestones, leaving a faint scratch behind him as he walked right up to Cassian, a brilliant, challenging grin on his face.
"So, this is your little cage, Second Prince? It smells of ink and fragile paper."
Before Thoris could take another step into Cassian's personal space, the heavy, metallic clatter of silver armor cut him off. Lucien Arden slid effortlessly between them, his hand resting comfortably on his hilt, his ice-blue eyes radiating a freezing, lethal aura.
"Your accommodations have been finalized, Prince Thoris," Lucien said, his voice dropping into a low, uncompromising baritone.
"You and your... unrefined horde... will be restricted to the West Wing Annex. My Vanguard has already established a strict perimeter. If a single Eastern soldier steps outside the designated courtyard after the evening bells... it will be treated as a violent breach of imperial security."
Thoris didn't look at Lucien. Instead, he tilted his head, his sharp amber eyes peering right over the knight's broad shoulder to lock onto Cassian.
"The West Wing, eh?" Thoris purred, his grin widening into something thoroughly predatory as he noticed the layout.
"That means my courtyard shares a fence with your private garden, Cassian and we also share the central training ground. How convenient. In the Steppes, we believe that neighbors who share a wall should share everything else, too."
Cassian let out a long, heavy, and deeply exhausted sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, putting his default cold, deadpan facade back on as he looked at the two towering lunatics currently measuring swords in the middle of the courtyard.
"If you or your beast touch a single leaf in my private garden, Thoris," Cassian drawled, his crimson eyes flashing with an icy, arrogant warning that made the surrounding ministers shiver, "I will have my underclassmen test their newly refined fire-magic arrays directly on your tents. Sir Arden, clear the path. I have an advanced spatial tome to read, and I am entirely out of patience."
Cassian turned on his heel, his silk royal cloak billowing behind him as he strode toward his quarters.
Thoris watched him go, a low, thoroughly delighted chuckle tearing from his throat. "Fierce. So incredibly fierce. I cannot wait to see how he looks when I break that pride."
Behind him, Lucien's broadsword cleared its scabbard by a fraction of an inch, the holy light singeing the grass.
"You will die before you ever get the chance, barbarian."
*****
[1] A requisition is a formal, internal request for goods, services, or personnel within an organization. It serves as an official document to signal a need and initiate an approval process before any actual spending occurs or an external order is placed.