The first to enter Wilhelm's room was Moses—he had apparently run the moment he heard Wilhelm was awake.
Behind him came the others: Lumiere, Tao, Julian, Kolya, and a few remaining soldiers.
Lumiere went straight to Xia, kneeling beside her to gently wake her.
Tao approached Wilhelm with a quiet smile.
"How did you sleep?"
"Could've been better," Wilhelm muttered. "Turns out it's not very comfortable sleeping with one leg."
Tao loosened the string on the sack he was carrying and pulled out a wooden peg.
"I would've gotten you a proper prosthetic," he said, "but we don't have time for fancy things. Besides—this suits you more anyway."
Wilhelm sighed. "As long as it gets the job done. I don't plan on stopping until my head's cut clean from my shoulders."
Tao gave his shoulder a firm pat.
"Glad to hear it."
He turned to the rest of the room and whistled, calling their attention.
"In nine days, we're heading to Amalfi. From there, we'll go north until we reach Venice. Wilhelm—does that work for you?"
Wilhelm grinned. "Yeah, that should be fine."
Tao nodded. "Good. You've all seen what we're up against—and the Count was just the beginning. I want every one of you to be ready."
The remaining soldiers snapped to attention, saluting. The students, by contrast, looked startled.
"That's right," Tao said. "Lumiere, Moses—you'll train with Julian and me starting tomorrow. I know the original plan had you in the back lines, but if more people like Saint-Germain show up… we'll need every blade we've got."
Wilhelm sat up suddenly, his face twisting in defiance.
"I can fight too. I know I'm messed up, but that won't stop me."
Tao exhaled.
"You need to learn to walk before you can fight. One of the greatest Qing generals fought on a peg. But it cost him his life."
Wilhelm scoffed. "Better than doing nothing."
Tao rubbed his forehead. "I'll consider it."
Then, to the others: "For now—go out, enjoy your lives. You never know how long you've got."
As the room began to empty, Xia stirred. She grabbed Lumiere's sleeve.
"You should stay with me tonight!"
Lumiere blinked, startled. "Don't you think it's a bit soon for that?"
She pouted. "Yeah, but you owe me. You burned my mouth earlier."
"You did that to yourself."
"Because I couldn't order anything else."
"That's not my fault—"
"You can't read Italian."
"Neither can you!"
…
Silence.
"Fine," he sighed. "But I'm sleeping on the floor."
She cheered and pounced on him. Lumiere smiled—momentarily happy—until he noticed Wilhelm watching from the bed.
"Missed a lot while I was out, huh?"
Lumiere flushed. "It's not like that, we—"
"Yeah, a lot happened!" Xia cut in with a mischievous grin.
Lumiere groaned. "Goodnight, Wilhelm."
"'Night, lovebirds."
The door closed. Wilhelm stared at the ceiling.
He didn't sleep that night.
Tao had Lumiere and Moses outside by 5 a.m. the next morning. Lumiere looked like he'd seen a ghost.
Moses eyed him with concern.
"Rough night?"
Lumiere leaned in to whisper.
"Halfway through the night," Lumiere murmured, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear, "she climbed down from her bed and started touching my face."
Moses raised an eyebrow. "Touching how?"
"Like… brushing my cheek with her fingers, poking my lips, even lifting my eyelid at one point. I think she was trying to figure out how I worked."
"Was she sleepwalking or—"
"No. She was whispering things like 'I wonder what your bones look like.'"
Moses blinked. "...Huh."
"Exactly. I just laid there pretending to sleep. I was scared to move in case she… I don't know, she tried to dissect me?"
"She's probably just exploring her feelings for you. You let her keep going?"
Lumiere sighed. "I mean, yeah. I was half-asleep and kind of... curious? It was weird. Just... a lot."
Moses grinned. "You liked it."
"Shut up"
"And then?"
"She fell asleep on top of me like nothing happened. I didn't sleep at all."
"Man," Moses chuckled, "You do you."
Tao's voice cut through the fog: "Are you two done snickering? This training is kind of important, you know?"
Both of them straightened immediately.
"Where's Julian?" Moses asked.
Tao sighed. "Probably still asleep. He may be sober now, but he's still Julian."
He pulled a rolled-up mat from his back and unwrapped it on the ground. Inside were two sabres and two revolvers.
"We'll train you in both. Which one you focus on is up to you."
He walked to the far wall and set a dozen old wine bottles on top. Then, without a word, he drew his own revolver and fired.
Every bottle shattered in clean succession.
"I'm not even that good, honestly," Tao said. "Closest thing we had in Qing were flintlocks—and they weren't nearly as precise."
Lumiere and Moses stared, stunned.
"Now it's your turn."
Lumiere aimed first—six shots, two hits.
Moses followed—five out of six.
"Wow, Moses, that's impressive for a first try," Tao said. "Lumiere, on the other hand... disappointing."
"You don't have to be so blunt about it!"
"As my brother-in-law, you're technically Qing royalty. I have high expectations."
Lumiere blinked. "I—I'm not—"
"You should ease up on him," came a new voice.
Julian approached, arms crossed and smirking.
"After all, the seed of love's just been planted. Water it too much and it'll rot."
Tao smiled. "Good to see you up early, Julian."
"Yeah, nice to be awake before noon for once."
Lumiere waved at him. Julian's heart gave a small, quiet flutter.
"Morning, son. How was your night with the lady?"
Tao nudged him. "What about not overwatering?"
"That's different."
Tao scoffed.
"Anyway, I'm teaching them how to shoot. Your son's not very good."
Everyone laughed—except Lumiere.
"You can't teach a horse to fly," Julian said. "How about I train him, and you take Moses?"
"Works for me."
As Julian and Lumiere walked off, Moses elbowed Tao.
"You're getting more confident, man."
Tao looked flustered. "I've just grown closer to all of you. Speaking to strangers is different."
Moses smiled. "You're doing great. I'm proud of you."
Tao blinked. "Funny you say that. I'm supposed to be your leader."
"Well, I am older than you."
"Seriously? How old are you?"
"Nineteen."
Tao deflated slightly. "I'm only eighteen."
"How old's Xia?"
"A few weeks younger than me. Makes her perfect for Lumiere, right?"
Moses laughed. "It's cute, but I don't get your obsession with them."
Tao was quiet for a moment. Then:
"Can I be honest with you?"
"Always."
"I don't think Xia has much time left. Her tuberculosis is getting worse. The fits are more frequent now."
His voice trembled.
"Her whole life's been painful. Now she's found something like love… I just want her to be happy. Even if it's short."
Moses put a hand on his shoulder.
"Maybe she'll surprise you. Love can do miracles if it's strong enough."
"I hope so. She's already fallen for him."
"And he's already tangled in it. Don't worry."
Tao nodded. "Let's continue."
He began setting up another row of bottles.
"I heard you're planning to go to America after all this."
"Yeah. That's the idea—if I live through it."
"All the more reason to train you well. Revolvers are the main form of combat there, right?"
Moses raised the gun again. Four shots, four hits.
"You're right. Let's do this."
Across the courtyard, Lumiere and Julian were sparring with their blades. Julian held back from unleashing his full dirk dance, trying to make things manageable for his son—though the restraint clearly cost him.
"Come on, Lumiere. You've got the talent. You just need to find your footing."
Lumiere paused, breathing hard.
"This blade feels wrong. It's… too light."
Julian cracked his fingers.
"It's not perfect, but it'll do for now. We'll find something that suits you later."
They resumed their sparring.
"You know I'm only half French?" Julian said between parries.
"My grandmother was Scottish. My grandfather was Japanese. That blood flows in you too."
Lumiere was too focused to respond. Julian grinned.
"Apparently, my grandfather was a famed ronin—a masterless samurai. They called him the God of War because he fought anyone who challenged him."
He unleashed a quick flurry of strikes. Lumiere blocked most of them, just barely.
"When rifles became common, he was ambushed. A duel on a beach turned into a massacre. Fifty men opened fire. Legend says he killed forty-nine of them before the last shot him through the kneecap."
Lumiere went for a kick. Julian deflected it with a flick of his wrist.
"He fled by raft, half-dead, and drifted for weeks until a ship picked him up. It brought him all the way to Scotland. That's where he met my grandmother."
Julian's rhythm grew more fluid. The dance returned to his limbs without him realizing.
"When I was a slave in the Count's colosseum, I struggled with the blade at first. My father told me before he vanished: 'Swordsmanship's in your blood. You just have to make it your own.'"
For a moment, he fully gave into the dirk dance, becoming a blur of motion.
"During my first real fight, I nearly died. Then I remembered a dance my grandmother taught me as a boy. I didn't know it perfectly, but I imagined it—used the shape of it in my head—and in one motion, I killed my opponent."
He stopped. Lumiere collapsed to his knees, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. Julian didn't even look winded.
"Not bad for your first real go. Catch your breath—we're not done yet."
Lumiere let out a groan and fell flat on his back.
Their training stretched well past sunset, until moonlight washed over the courtyard. And it would continue through the next day.
That following night, in the heart of Rome, something would begin.