Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 142: She Left

Chapter 142: She Left

Back in Carles, the sky had begun to darken, casting long shadows across the worn cobblestone streets. General Odin sat heavily in a high-backed chair, the weight of the day pressing down on him. The room was quiet save for the distant murmur of voices beyond the stone walls, soldiers and workers alike toiling to restore the war-torn town.

"Bener," Odin called, his voice low but steady. "Fetch Lara. I’d like to have dinner with her."

Bener bowed slightly before departing, his footsteps fading into the corridor. Odin sighed and leaned back, rubbing his temple. The day had been consumed with planning the rehabilitation of Carles, each decision a new burden added to his shoulders. And as if the weight of rebuilding weren’t enough, the arrival of Princes Alderan and Reuben only complicated matters.

Their constant bickering added to his exhaustion. They came eager — too eager — each vying for a prominent role in the town’s restoration. Odin could see it in their eyes. Not compassion, not duty, but ambition.

Odin sighed heavily when he learned that Prince Alaric left.

Why did he leave? He risked his life and did so much to take back Carles, but now that the war was over, why didn’t he stay? Didn’t he care that it would be easy for his half brothers to steal the merit of winning the war from him?

The two princes only stayed in the background, watching and waiting. Alaric, on the other hand, was in the forefront of the battle, fighting alongside the Northem soldiers, giving them the needed morale boost.

Sigh.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. The door creaked open, revealing Percival balancing a tray with a delicate porcelain teapot. The boy approached quietly, his movements careful. "Father," he said, offering the tray, "please drink this. It’s a medicinal brew. Lara prescribed it for you."

Odin’s heart softened. Even in her absence, she cared for him. He took the cup, cradling the warmth in his hands before downing the concoction in one gulp. At first, the warmth spread through him, soothing his tired body... until the taste hit him. His face contorted.

"Ugh!" He grimaced, resisting the urge to spit it out. "Bitter as bile."

"Here, eat this and drink another glass of water." Percival handed him an oblong amber pill. After hesitating, he swallowed the pill and found it sweet and refreshing. It removed the bitter aftertaste that lingered on his tongue.

"This is?" He lowered his head to look at his son whose eyes just reached his chin.

Percival and Peredur were the shortest among his sons. Maybe it was because they were twins or just late bloomers and had not reached their full growth potential.

"That’s just honey. I was supposed to mix it with the other ingredients, but I forgot," Percival said nonchalantly.

Odin glared at his son. No wonder the taste of the medicine was awful. He forgot to add one ingredient.

The soft clatter of dishes drew his attention. Percival handed the used utensils to a waiting servant, who opened the door to leave — only to stumble back as Bener appeared again. His face was drawn, his voice grave.

"She’s gone, Father," Bener said, each word falling heavy in the room. "Lara left. Her neighbors told me that she left after breakfast."

General Odin was dumbfounded. Why did she leave?

"Father, didn’t she tell you about leaving?"

Odin thought for a while. He remembered that she had said she was leaving. But he thought she was only leaving the mayor’s house and would go to the infirmary or somewhere else within Carles.

"She bid me goodbye, but she didn’t say she was leaving Carles," General Odin said helplessly. "I should have sent someone to guard her."

"Maybe that’s why she did not tell you she is leaving Carles. She had anticipated that you would meddle in her affairs." Bener shared his thoughts dispondently.

Odin sank deeper into his chair, his heart troubled. The war was over, but a new battle had begun for him — the battle to protect his daughter, even when she refused.

"Bener, since Galahad will leave tomorrow for the capital to start investigating, and Asael is still recuperating, go find capable people to protect her secretly."

Bener’s brows furrowed. "But Father," he protested, his tone laced with urgency, "we must locate her first." His eyes, wide with concern, searched Odin’s face, as if hoping his father held some hidden answer. "It’s not because she can’t protect herself — I know she can — but just letting her know we’re watching over her... it would show that we care."

Odin’s stern expression softened, and he gave a slow nod. "You’re right." He glanced toward the flickering torch, lost in thought. "Ask Asael. He might have some ideas." He paused, brow furrowing as if trying to unearth a buried memory. "What about Prince Alaric? Did all of his guards leave with him?"

Bener exhaled, his shoulders sagging. "Yes. Prince Alaric took every last one."

A heavy silence settled over the room. Odin’s gaze drifted to the window, where the dark silhouette of the mountains loomed in the distance. Then, suddenly, his eyes brightened.

"I remembered. When Kane arrived, he told us Prince Alaric was in Mount Ourea. There are two towns at the foot of Mount Ourea, Calma and Paravia. She should be in one of the towns."

"Find her, Bener. And protect her."

Bener gave a sharp nod and turned to leave, disappearing into the corridor.

...

When Asael learned that Lara left, he was saddened. Why did she not say anything to him?

But then, when it was time for him to take his post-operative medicine, the medic whom Kane had trained handed him a parchment.

"Doctor Kane asked me to give you this," the medic said softly, then left without another word.

Frowning, Asael unfolded the letter, the parchment crinkling in his hands. His eyes swept over the elegant script. The handwriting was beautiful, fluid — but unfamiliar. His heart clenched. Was it indeed from her?

Brother, sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. I hate goodbyes. Please take care of yourself so your body can heal soon, and then you can find me.

A soft breath escaped him, his shoulders loosening.

His eyes moved to the postscript.

P.S. It took me some time to learn to write again, as I had forgotten how. Master Jethru and Reya taught me, and after a few months, I learned. Reya teased me, saying my handwriting was much better than before.

Asael’s breath hitched, the letter trembling slightly in his hands, and a shadow of doubt lingered. Galahad’s suspicions echoed in his mind — what if Lara wasn’t who she claimed to be? What if Kane Mendel was an impostor?

His fingers curled around the parchment, knuckles whitening. She seemed different from the sister he once knew. She was stronger and colder.

He shook his head to dispel the negative thoughts. He had to listen to his heart because it was telling him that Kane Mendel was his sister, and there was no doubt about that.

Yes. It was her. He knew it in his bones. Whatever had changed her — whatever she’d endured — she was still his sister.

He would never stop searching.

Asael closed his eyes, pressing the letter against his chest. The candle flickered, and the shadows danced along the walls.

Wherever she was, he would find her.

And this time, he wouldn’t let her slip away.