Page 1932 -- CXCVIII.

Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Eight: 'Preparedness, be acquired...'
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It was a relief to be back at Warrenhold again. He hadn't even been gone a day, but it felt like weeks. As much as he had enjoyed catching up with everyone at the Gala, it was still exhausting, and the media circus around it certainly hadn't helped, either. The sun had already started coming up by the time he'd finally left the palace, and he had naively thought that the media would've dispersed by then, but nope. They jumped on him the second they saw him and made that last stretch to his vehicle as uncomfortable as possible.

At least he'd been able to say goodbye to Lynn and the Queen before departing. Thinking back on it now, in the comfort of his own bed, he wished that he could've talked to them more. About what, he wasn't sure. Anything would've been fine, really. As he drifted off to sleep, he foggily wondered when he might see them again.

The warm embrace of sleep was fully welcome. Damn, this bed was cozy.

Only too soon, he awoke--and not on his own.

A dreadfully familiar voice was talking to him in a horrifically familiar tone.

"--up. If you don't get up in the next twenty seconds, a cold shower will be visiting you in your bed."

Hector groaned but began to stir.

"It's time to train, Lord Goffe." Whenever Zeff called him that, it didn't sound like a term of respect for some reason.

Much as he wanted to, though, Hector didn't complain beyond a few more grunts. There was nothing to be gained by resisting, especially because in the back of his mind, he knew perfectly well how important these training sessions were--and how lucky he was to have found an instructor as experienced as Zeff.

He got dressed, making sure to choose clothes that he didn't care too much about, in the likely event that they ended up utterly obliterated.