PeaceMaker

'Ah…' Axel thought to himself, the smile on his face slowly dimming into a thin line. 'He did make him substitute king didn't he?' Axel turned to Dominic. Although his face was mostly stoic, Axel could feel the undertone of anger in Dominic's mood. His clenched fist also served as a clue.

'Someone his highness trusts enough to hand his position to… an OUTSIDER that his highness trusts enough to hand his position to…' Axel pondered. The idea was ridiculous seeing an outsider got to rule a kingdom as a prince but… that outrageous idea didn't seem so far-fetched now. 'I seriously have to see him now,' Axel smirked.

"There must be people that can help him right?" Desilva asked, nodding as she switched glances from Axel and Dominic. Her optimistic attempt at soothing the stiff mood was soon dismissed but their grim expressions.

"I do have a royal advisor there to help him," Dominic agreed.

"See~ he's going to be o-"

"But the royal advisor is also swapped with work and might not even spend enough time around him to be able to save him if he's attacked," Dominic finished, letting out a long puff of air.

"Oh…" Desilva sighed, slumping back into her seat.

"Hope for the best?" Axel suggested.

"Yes… hope for the best," Dominic replied, dishearted.

They sat in silence for a minute, the air becoming tenser by the second

Desilva twisted in discomfort, itching to somehow change the mood. "About me becoming your escort, we're going to need to do something, right? You've spent months out here and the time to return home is nearing. It's about time we wrap things up nicely."

"Ah! That's true! The war went on for longer than we predicted and our return to our kingdom is long-awaited, we might only have a month or so before returning to the palace," Axel agreed, "wow… there's going to be such a huge celebration waiting for us at home."

'That's if it isn't ruined by a sudden announcement of a deceased personal guard on our return,' Axel thought to himself.

"But that all depends on the soldiers," Dominic interrupted, "I've heard the medic team has been working extra hard on healing the soldiers. How much progress have they made?"

"There are over 500,000 people in the camp currently including the villagers and out of those 500,000, about 300,000 are soldiers-" Axel began.

"Please just tell us the amount of progress we've made," Desilva begged, she had felt her head getting overheated just by the words Axel spoke.

"Pfft, your tiny little flower brain can't take math?" Axel teased.

Desilva looked away, her face a cute mix of flustered and a pout, "why's a doctor spewing math anyways! Just get to the facts."

"Pfft, ok then," Axel chuckled, "we're at, I would say a 60%... no... 50% progress. The physicians from Desilva's side have been a big help and their plant-based medicine has been a big help."

"50 percent?" Dominic asked.

"Yes. It's only the 5th week of recovery and one week since Desilva's village moved in with ours, I'm surprised we even had this much progress, to be honest. The physical damage on a lot of our soldiers are… well in some cases catastrophic and to some really lucky people, mild," Axel explained, taking a slight break in his speech and his voice dropping a few notes in sound as he spoke his next comment, "not to mention to mental damage it has on many of our soldiers...some look like their scarred for life."

Dominic knew how that felt. He laid awake at night, with the past month's events replaying in his mind. He could still remember the sharp stab of guilt and sheer pain when he was late in saving one of her soldiers and watched a sword drive into their abdomen. Then ran towards them, his head buzzing with terror as he tried to soften the soldier's fall to the ground and hoped to still hear the loud pounding of their hearts, just to catch a bleeding corpse. The moments he had to watch were etched into his memory forever and they weighed his heart down, bringing him close to tears at just the thought at times.

He knew very well that the second battle had begun after the first ended and if the physical first battle was not enough, the second would wear them down mentally, to death. He knew that because he, himself, had expected to have given in to the warmth of death after the storms of emotional stress kicked in. To have been washed under the waves and heavyweights the aftermath of the war left on the mind and body. He hadn't expected to wake up after his meltdown from the backlash. He hadn't expected to be able to speak of the terror that ran through his veins while he held on to that sword for his life. He hadn't expected to live.

"Axel, whatever other people that have been assisting you in healing me, tell them to focus on the other soldiers," Dominic commanded.

"Your highness-" Axel began.

"You are my personal physician, I believe you can heal me on your own. Or have I overestimated your skills?" Dominic asked, his tone raised slightly with harshness.

"No your highness, I have misspoken, please forgive me," Axel fell to his knees and bowed his head before Dominic, "I will inform them after this."

"Desilva," Dominic called.

Desilva flinched at the sternness in Dominic's voice, her body freezing on the spot. She had never heard this level of command and authority in his tone before and wasn't sure how to respond.

"DESILVA," Dominic repeated, his voice booming through her ears.

"YES YOUR HIGHNESS!" Desilva yelled in reply, falling to her knees immediately and assuming the same pose as Axel. She stayed in that moment for a second, finally experiencing what it was like to serve another.. "What may I be of service to you, your highness."