"Did you enjoy the bath, General Pollineux?"

"We did, thank you General Malmo."

Pasche and I enter the command tent together, which raises an eyebrow from Malmo before he simply shakes his head. I have to assume I've given him the wrong impression, but in honesty I don't care what malformed thoughts rot in his mind. So long as they don't get in the way of military strategy.

"... Does your new friend have to join us in the command tent-"

"Pasche is one of my officers, I would have her counsel when developing strategy."

"Strategy? We did just WIN a battle, you know. Work can wait at least a little while, can't it?" My eyes drift down and I realize I have interrupted the general during dinner.

How rude of Malmo, to interrupt our planning by having a meal. "We're in a broken palisade surrounded by corpses, this isn't a win, and this cannot wait. This position is entirely indefensible and we need to get the troops moving as quickly as possible."

"Move? Impossible, the newspapers wouldn't allow a retreat from captured territory, we'd be cowards in the eyes of the people."

"Sounds to me like you're more scared of printed type than musket balls."

"The fact that you aren't utterly baffles me, General Pollineux... Ah, not to say that it isn't utterly charming and in keeping with the Pollineux name, of course." Somehow, I am more comfortable with Malmo's slightly contemptful bafflement than his hagiography. His incredibly warped priorities and thinly veiled venom at least read as honest.

Pasche takes my hand and squeezes it, before whispering into my ear. "It's... Not a bad idea to try and keep the press in mind. Neither The Convention, nor The Royal Family can be seen to invest in failure. If we displease them, we're unlikely to receive reinforcement or resupply when we need it."

My head droops, somehow the Academy hadn't seen fit to talk about how the domestic press were as likely to kill Avernia as our adversaries. Perhaps that lesson was for third years and I'd simply missed it. After all, Malmo managed to learn it somewhere, even if he didn't seem to know much else.

Malmo takes another bite of his dinner, his fine porcelain plate sitting right on the big map of Alemannia. "So, there you go, we can't move anywhere so there's no point wasting time discussing things. Why don't you join me for dinner, mademoiselle? You must be starving after the day you've had."

I have to admit I am just a little bit tempted. Malmo's personal chef seems able to make things smell delicious and if there is nothing we can do then there is nothing we can do. And falling into a ditch and almost losing my entire heartbeat in a mad charge to rescue the fort did take a lot out of me…

My eyes catch something on the map Malmo was using for a tablecloth, and I realize that there is something we can do. "... We can't stay here, and we can't go back. But that still leaves us one more option. Moving forward."

Malmo's eyes go wide, and he slowly puts down his fork and knife in the manner of a proper gentleman. "... I beg your pardon?"

I point out a nearby spot on the map, an old castle from the days of Jeanne's war against the Magyars. "There. A much more defensible location, only a day's march further away from the border, with stone walls and firing positions to set up cannons. We'd be relatively safe there, and capturing it would certainly earn the admiration of the press, would it not? Thus we could secure reinforcement and be able to hold it against counterattack. It's a perfect plan!"

"... Perfect except for the part where our utterly mauled forces have to seize a castle from the enemy."

"They wouldn't be expecting an attack after the thrashing they've given us, they won't be prepared. And besides, we gave them something of a black eye as well, didn't we?"

"And there’s the fact we'd be over-extending ourselves, how are supplies going to reach us if they have to brave the entire road to the castle?"

"Hmmm..."

I ponder this for a moment, before noticing a little something on the map peeking out from underneath Malmo's dinner plate. I move the plate aside, earning a frankly pained look from the General across the table. But this is war, this is serious business, delicious smelling food can wait!

"That... That is my dinner-"

"There. That oppidum on the hill, if we could fortify it then we'd have a secure place to dominate the supply road. It provides good vision of the surrounding countryside, we just need to station a garrison there to intercept any bandits or would-be raiders that could try to ambush our supplies."

"We'd have to split our forces..."

"Only temporarily. You can march on the castle, put it under siege, earn some headlines, and get your name in the papers, while I can secure the supply road. Seems to me that getting your name out there is your relevant area of expertise, is it not?"

"I suppose it is- Wait, is that an insult?"

It absolutely is, and it leaves me wondering when I became such a snarky individual... I notice out of the corner of my eye that Pasche is smirking, which gives me something approaching an answer. "It is an accurate assessment of your skills in a strategic context, it's good to be good at something."

"Right..."

"So, what do you think, General? If we stay here we're dead, if we retreat then we're supposedly worse than dead, and if we move forward we might live AND you might get famous. Which plan do you think is best?"

General Malmo takes a few moments to consider my proposal, a few moments clearly beset by a kind of existential despair I have never seen before. "... You certainly are a Pollineux..."

The disappointment and dread with which he says it makes me proud to hear my family name for once, I can take pride in being my brother's sister for the first time in two years. "I'll deliver the marching orders to my troops tomorrow; we have to get moving quickly... But we can let the men get a good night's sleep after the battle they've had."

"Only a single night of rest?"

"I presume they'd prefer decisive command over comfortable command."

"I suppose..." Malmo, seeking a source of comfort after agreeing to my plan, drifts his attention back to his plate. "Now that the shop talk is out of the way, how about that dinner-”

"I think I'll take my meal with the troops, gauge their morale, make sure there aren't any problems forming among the ranks... See you at the castle, Malmo."

"Wait!" Malmo stands up, putting on a concerned affect utterly undermined by his clearly calculating eyes. "... At least allow me to offer you some measure of protection while you're away. We found you alone in a ditch today, I believe you might require some more dedicated guards."

"... You found me with Pasche, Malmo."

"All the same, I would like to offer you the services of some of my finest troops as bodyguards. All good men, well disciplined, good shots, loyal to The Convention to a tee. And every man of them is willing to die if necessary."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Loyal to The Convention... The words make me want to say no right there and then, what little I know of this Convention is that it was big on information control and upsetting Her Majesty. However, another little whisper from Pasche stops me before I can decline.

"I think you should take up his offer, Serena... It wouldn't do for you to be hurt, and if I'm to be commanding your cavalry then I can't be by your side all the time, regrettably."

I whisper back, much to Malmo's apparent frustration, being left out of the loop. "Loyalty to The Convention isn't precisely the best trait, Pasche. I would prefer an army as uncomplicated as possible."

"Loyalty to The Convention has more than one meaning, Serena. Yes, it means what it says, but it also means that someone has access to the latest military hardware. Rifles, grenades, fine swords, most of the magnates in charge of war material production happen to have cushy positions lined up in The Convention of Humanity's prospective Senate, so the best stuff always goes to Republican Loyalists. It might do you some good to have some well-equipped troops about, when we were examining your forces I was surprised by just how... Old everything your troops were given is."

"They still won, didn't they?"

"They won against a distracted enemy that they attacked from behind, in a stand-up fight things could go very differently... And having some riflemen to pick off enemy officers is a boon on a battlefield. It's a force multiplier, if you use it right-"

"Picking off officers?!" My incredulity almost causes me to be audible to Malmo, who is drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. "Wouldn't it be dishonorable-"

"Officers are men like any other, if you had a problem killing people you wouldn't be here."

"We still need to draw some lines, Pasche!"

"I completely agree, this just happens to be a line that is stupid... Not to imply that you're- I mean..."

Pasche desperately attempts to whisper the words she said back into her mouth, but she has raised a good point. An officer is hardly any more sacred than any other person, and their deaths could lead to disorientation among enemy lines... Perhaps I’m being hasty in shooting down her idea, it’s a natural reaction on my part... But not a correct one.

"No... You're right, I think you make a good point... Thank you for your counsel, Pasche."

I give her a smile to demonstrate my sincerity, which leads her to look down in a futile attempt to hide a blush. "You're... You're welcome, Serena. I'm happy to offer you my opinions-"

"I'm still here, you two!" Malmo's impatience has finally reached a boiling point, with him pathetically bringing a fist down on the table, rubbing it after. "Owww... In any case, my proposal, Mademoiselle?"

I look Malmo right in the eyes and give a nod. "I think I will accept your offer. Thank you, General Malmo."

This gets a smile out of the general across the table, even as he rubs his poor hand. "See, aren't I just full of generosity?"

I wince, remembering what he referred to. "In future, I would prefer gifts of troops and talented officers, instead of... Priests of Velvet."

"Duly noted... Alright, I suppose I'll see you at that castle then. Alive, no doubt. You are a Pollineux after all."

"Duly noted..."

I rather brusquely make my leave. He just had to ruin things at the end there with that probably unintentional barb. I am going to meet him at the castle alive because I will make the effort. Not because of some stupid name, not because of some mystical link to my damn brother... I will be alive, because my troops will keep me that way, because Pasche will keep me that way.

Pasche gives my hand another squeeze, and for a moment I wonder if I can teach her Lazierte and I's little language. "I umm... I actually had a question about priests and priestesses, if I may."

This question could go to all kinds of places, and I'm not sure I liked any of them, but I had to know which way it would go. "Proceed..."

"When we were counting up the dead and the living, I noticed there were no priests following your army around. We had to rely on Malmo's priests to bury the dead, to... Attend to the living, and to divide up the personal effects of the fallen... I thought most modern armies would have a full complement of priests with them. Where are yours?"

That question is not nearly as painful as the gods so often are, I like Pasche. "The same place as my cannons, in a state of 'procurement difficulties'. I was sent out here too quickly to even finish my officer's training, they couldn't wait to make sure I had things like a support congregation. Given that I saved you in the nick of time, it's a fair sacrifice."

"I suppose so... Wait, you didn't even finish your officer training?! ... How old are you anyway, Serena?"

"Nineteen."

"... What the fuck?!"

"Her Majesty requires officers, and she can order me to be any kind of officer she requires, and at any age she requires."

"... What the fuck-"

"Pasche, please, you're disturbing the men."

"... What the fuck was high command thinking?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures?"

"More like desperate times call for insane politicking... No, no I get it. Someone wanted more Royalists in the lines to counterbalance the number of Republicans in the army... The Royal Family must be panicking."

"... The Queen did seem very sad to see us sent to war so quickly. This may not have been her decision."

"You talk about the Queen with so much reverence, does Her Grace even have any power-"

I stop in place and glare at Pasche before I even know I'm doing it, making clear that the Queen has power, the power of her most devoted supplicant. "She is Her Majesty."

"... Understood, completely understood." There’s a certain sense of Pasche withdrawing, as if from an angry lion, but there is also something else in her eyes... Jealousy? "So, we were going to eat?"

"… Amongst the men, yes. For all the reasons I told Malmo, and also to not get caught in conversation with Malmo."

"He does really seem eager on marrying you someday. Or marrying your brother. Or trying to marry both of you."

"I wonder why? I'm hardly beautiful, and I'm certainly not kind to him."

"... Well, you're not un-beautiful...” Pasche spends a moment trying to stare a hole into the ground, as if she can bury the thing she just said in the dirt. “But it's probably politics again. The Pollineux name is famous, he probably wants to ride on its coattails."

"I see...” My stupid name was getting me into trouble again… At least it wouldn’t cause issues with better people. “Pasche?"

"Yes, General?"

"Never stop calling me 'Serena'."