The Next Day — The Academy.
Luka looked like death warmed over.
Slumped in his seat, dark bags hung under his eyes.
His head bobbed dangerously with each blink, fighting off sleep as if it were an enemy.
Beside him, his personal maid wasn't faring much better—standing just beside his seat, she was hunched slightly forward, barely holding herself upright.
They were both absolutely wrecked.
The night before had been horrible.
Not because of danger, or anything alike—
But because of celebration.
The village feast had gone on all night, and the villagers just… wouldn't stop.
"We never get to do this!" they had cried, over and over again.
And Luka couldn't even blame them.
'Well, I get it,' he thought groggily.
'Commoners usually have to work every single day. Guess they wanted the party to last as long as possible.'
But that didn't change the fact that he hadn't gotten even a minute of sleep.
