Her Majestic Battle Cry

A delicate curtain separated the bedroom from the inner hall. As Carissa parted the beaded curtain, the soft sound of pearls clinking together echoed in the quiet room,

People said a small room helped preserve energy for the elderly, the room shouldn’t be too spacious, as it could cause the life force to scatter and harm their health.

Thus, the room was modest in size, with a carved cherrywood bed positioned to the east and a low couch to the south. A small wardrobe stood nearby, though Carissa had already noticed another wardrobe in the inner hall, suggesting that this one had been specially added.

She glanced around the room, noting the fine, elegant furnishings everything was of the highest quality.

“Lord Gerald,” Carissa called softly. When she thought about it, there was no personal grudge between them. Their paths had merely crossed at the wrong time. noveldrama

Gerald opened his eyes slowly, his dull, murky gaze sweeping the room. Only when he confirmed that it was just her did he sigh wearily

He was frail, his breathing shallow–indeed, he seemed to be at the very end of his strength.

On the table beside him was a bowl of medicine and a bowl of gruel that was still warm. It seemed someone had tried to feed him, but he had refused.

He lifted a trembling hand and pointed weakly at the gruel.

Carissa looked over at the bowl. “You want some gruel? I’ll have someone feed you.”

Cody entered at once, casting a grateful glance at Carissa. Gerald hadn’t eaten for several days, and now he wanted gruel just because Carissa was here. For this alone, Cody was deeply appreciative.

Outside, Kylie listened carefully, a slight frown forming on her face. This wasn’t what she had expected–why was Gerald eating gruel now? She thought for a moment, deciding that perhaps he lacked the strength to scold Carissa and needed the nourishment just to keep his

energy up.

She would wait and see.

Gerald drank little, and the gruel was thin and brewed with nourishing herbs. After finishing nearly half a bowl, he shook his head and gestured for Cody to leave.

After Gerald had consumed some gruel, Cody nearly burst into tears. If Gerald died, he too would likely follow soon after. For now, he hadn’t yet been summoned for judgment as Gerald still needed him.

After eating the gruel with nourishing herbs, Carissa could tell from Gerald’s breathing that he had improved slightly. But he did not speak right away. He was too weak, and even the nourishing herbs would take some time to show its effects,

The Quinton family had naturally only brought top–quality herbs to be used.

Carissa pulled up a chair and sat down beside his bed, just as she had at the Capital Guard headquarters.

Gerald’s eyes were half–closed, and he began to speak in a weak voice.

“That day, you said I hadn’t fought for anything Today, I called you here…”

He exhaled slowly, then inhaled with great effort It was as though it took all his strength to draw in a breath.

After a long pause, he continued, “I want to tell you that some things, no matter how hard you fight for, are in vain. They only harm both others and yourself.”

Carissa remained silent, understanding that he wasn’t finished.

After another pause, he went on, “What you’re doing now… It won’t succeed, either. The success you see now is but an illusion. In the end, in the world we live in… It won’t be allowed.”

He gasped for air several times, and a murky tear slid down from the corner of his eye. “Years ago, King Sigmund forbade it because…because he saw right through me.”

His thin, brittle hand clutched the blanket, the veins standing out like twisted roots, as he fought to speak his words. One cannot defy the king’s command! If you can’t fight, then… then surrender.”

Carissa felt he had said all he wanted. His eyes closed with exhaustion, his breathing shallow and labored.

Finally, she said, “Actually, there’s no need to bring up the past. You made your choices when you were young. Let’s focus on just one thing–officials are not allowed to visit the red–light districts. As a Royal Tutor, even if you didn’t go to the gentlemen’s retreat, you would’ve been condemned if you’d stepped into the entertainment parlors.”

“Yes, I was wrong,” he murmured softly, “but when I went to the gentlemen’s retreat, I only wanted to see them. There are always some who find happiness there. Just seeing them…gave me a sense of comfort.”

Carissa shook her head, disagreement in her eyes. “No, those who go to places like that are not the ones who are truly happy. To me, they are just seeking fleeting pleasures. True happiness comes from a meeting of hearts, not just physical enjoyment without any emotional foundation.”

“But at least… I knew there were others like me. That was enough.”

“You’ve always known there were others like you. You didn’t need to go to the gentlemen’s retreat to prove that,” Carissa countered.