Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 75: Exchanging Favors

Chapter 75: Exchanging Favors

As Lara stepped out of the makeshift infirmary, the cool December air wrapped around her, its cold fingers seeping through the thin fabric of her sleeves. The scent of damp earth and smoldering firewood filled her lungs, momentarily clearing the exhaustion from her mind. In the distance, the flickering glow of a bonfire cast long, dancing shadows across the camp.

Aramis stood waiting for her. His back was straight, and his posture was as composed as ever.

"The Lieutenant had work to do, so he left long ago," he said, his voice steady and deep. He extended a small bundle wrapped in dried leaves. "Here, your ration."

Lara took it and carefully unfolded the wrappings, revealing a meager meal—a coarse slice of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a few strips of dried meat.

She sighed, the simple offering reminding her of the soldiers inside the tent. How could they regain their strength with such sustenance? They needed warmth, nourishment—not stale rations.

She sat beside Aramis, chewing on the hardened bread, each bite requiring effort. Washing it down with gulps of water from the canteen, she let her gaze drift across the camp.

The senseless war had stolen so much from so many, yet the ones who waged it sat in their gilded halls, untouched by the hunger, the blood, the loss.

The quest for power and glory was truly terrifying. How many lives had already been sacrificed for the ambitions of men who would never lift a sword themselves?

She reached for her backpack, fingers tracing the bamboo tubes secured at the bottom. Twelve in total. She pulled the empty one and noted the diminishing supply with a quiet sigh. Soon, she would have no choice but to use vinegar and boiled water like Doctor Elir. It was better than nothing, but she needed a better solution.

Perhaps she should find a way to extract ethyl alcohol in larger quantities efficiently. If she did, she could save more lives.

The thought lingered as she slipped back inside the tent. The doctor lay resting in the corner, his breathing even. She knew exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, so she did not wake him. Instead, she turned and left, making her way back to her tent with Aramis trailing behind.

She felt the letter hidden underneath her inner shirt. The opportunity to meet with General Odin had slipped away tonight, along with her chance to speak to Asael. She could not fail tomorrow.

Fatigue weighed heavily on her as she lay down. The moment her back met the woven mat, sleep pulled her under.

Outside, Aramis settled near the entrance, draping the citronella-infused cloth over himself. Its scent filled the air—calming and repealing mosquitos.

...

Lara woke abruptly, her senses still tangled in the remnants of sleep. The rhythmic chant of soldiers echoed through the camp, their voices a chorus of greeting the arrival of sunrise.

Sound forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;

Oh, be swift, soldiers of Northem, be jubilant, our feet

Let us march on, let us fight, and make Northem free.

She pushed aside the tent flap, the crisp air biting at her skin. The soldiers of the Westside camp moved in perfect synchrony, the sound of their boots hitting the ground was a pleasant surprise.

Her eyes instinctively searched for Aramis. He was gone.

Did he join the soldiers?

The sight of the one hundred soldier’s disciplined march sent a strange shiver down her spine. It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying—this force, this unwavering determination to march toward death without hesitation.

She spotted Asael, Gideon, and Bener among them. He met her gaze and nodded in acknowledgment.

She hesitated, unsure of what to do. Then, as if compelled by some unseen force, she straightened her clothes and stepped forward, falling in line behind Asael. Her body moved before her mind could question it.

Two more laps around the encampment and the soldiers finally dispersed for breakfast. Asael gestured for her to follow, leading her toward the Westside Command Center. Aramis, appearing from nowhere, fell into step behind her.

"What’s with that man following you all around? He doesn’t look like a soldier at all." Asael cast him a glance.

Lara barely looked at Aramis before replying, "He isn’t. He is General Alaric’s guard. He sent him to protect me."

Asael’s eyes widened. Prince Alaric? Of course, he knew General Alaric’s identity.

Everyone in the camp knew who Alaric Kromwel was. Of the three royal brothers, only one had chosen to fight alongside his men rather than remain in the safety of the war tent. While the second and third princes studied battle strategy under the senior generals, Alaric led his elite troops into battle.

Before Asael could dwell on the revelation, he changed the subject. "I visited the infirmary early this morning. Doctor Elir said the critically injured soldiers you treated last night are improving."

Lara exhaled softly, relieved.

"He also asked if you could show them how to process yarrows into a medicinal paste," Asael continued, watching her carefully. "He’d be grateful."

Without hesitation, Lara reached into her backpack, pulling out a folded parchment. "Here are the instructions."

Asael took it, studying her like seeing her for the first time. "You give away such knowledge freely. Don’t you realize how much you could earn if you sell this?"

Lara met his gaze without wavering. "That knowledge could save lives. Why should I keep it to myself?"

Something flickered in his eyes, but he said nothing. Instead, he gave the parchment to Kellan and instructed him to deliver it to Doctor Elir.

"I will tell Father to report this to the court so you will be properly rewarded."

"There is no need," was her nonchalant reply.

After briefly hesitating, Asael added, "The doctor also wants to learn your stitching techniques."

"I can teach him," Lara said easily, "but I need a private meeting with General Odin first. General Alaric has a message for him."

Asael’s brows lifted slightly. "I can arrange that. We’ll go after breakfast."

He studied her, his gaze lingering. A few strands of her copper-brown hair had escaped her topknot, falling past her waist. The fringe that covered the left side of her forehead obscured one eye, but it did little to hide his apparent similarity with him.

If only he was a woman...

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.