I have a medal upon my uniform jacket. A Lion’s head with crossed swords, for bravery under fire. Antoine was utterly ecstatic with my performance in the Battle of the Po River, ‘allowing’ myself to be attacked on two sides to make an opening for Pasche’s cavalry to exploit the gaps and hit infantry out of position. So ecstatic he insisted I be decorated, and the regiments under my command be commended for staying in position even in a situation of great peril. So now I have a medal upon my uniform jacket.

One which Lazierte and Pasche look upon nervously as we plan the siege of Medhelanon. But we all say nothing. I can’t bring myself to admit that I bungled my first command with my impetuousness and almost had the left wing of the army collapse, nor is Pasche going to admit that she explicitly defied orders to save my life, with no consideration for the ‘brilliance’ of her maneuvers. And Lazierte? She’s appreciating the displeasure of Antoine’s other officers, who look upon my new ‘honor’ with jealous eyes and upon my person with barely disguised distaste… I used to be such an honest girl before. Now here I am, holding onto secrets, from my own brother. From my friends. From the troops. Is there no dishonor that I am above?

Trying to simply stay quiet and survive the planning meeting for the assault of Medhelanon might have been dull if not for the agony of trying to hold onto a shame and project a triumph. Foolishly I consider praying to the gods for the quiet to be over, for anything to distract from this feeling.

Naturally, the gods provide.

So does Pasche. "Don't you fucking dare do this, Antoine!"

Oh dear, I appear to have missed something. Or possibly caused something by daring to think of the gods. Pasche looks about ready to strangle Antoine, and isn’t looking to remove her gloves first.

And Antoine’s very strangleable face isn’t helping matters."Pasche, the cavalry are being sent to harass the Magyar flanks. You are the cavalry. Do your job-"

"My job is to protect my girl- My general!"

This is a meeting to discuss tactics. All the army’s officers are here in the command tent. They're watching this happen. They're watching my second best friend teeter on the edge of treason, and watching my brother trying to push her there.

"A Pollineux doesn't require protection. And they certainly do not require insubordination!"

"You haven't seen her in three gods-damned years, Antoine! You wouldn't know a thing about her!"

"Are you implying my sister is weak then, Pasche? That she is unworthy of our family name?"

"Yes!- No!- ... Have you seen her scars?! The girl gets herself in trouble all the time!"

It's a little cute, seeing Pasche getting utterly tongue-tied trying to both protect me, and denigrate me to the point where I require her protection. She is right, of course, I'd be dead at least twice were it not for Pasche's presence, her desire to defend me. The bold and stupid things I've done I could only survive because I had her.

And all of them nearly got her killed.

I rise from my chair at the big table full of maps. I'm sure there’s a more official term for it, but that's not my primary concern. Pasche’s attention immediately falls on me, but Antoine remains focused on Pasche, about ready to formulate a counter-argument. It takes him a few moments to realize he's being ignored. If Pasche is away from me, if Pasche can’t die to protect me, then she’ll have no need of suicidal bravery or self-destructive heroics. She’ll be safer out there, with the cavalry.

Now I just have to convince her to do so. “Pasche… You’ll be most useful with the cavalry, harassing the Magyar army.”

“Serena?” Pasch looks devastated, betrayed even.

It makes my jaw tremble just a little, but I have to remain vigilant, to protect her. “You… You’ve more than proven your competence as a cavalry commander. We need you with them, we need every advantage we can get in this war.”

“... That’s just because I can protect you.” She’s mumbling, looking down at her feet, shrinking under my gaze.

It takes every bit of my self-control to not protest her desire to protect me, to not loudly assert my need to protect her. “Pasche, please, this protects the whole army. It keeps us all safe. Including you. And including me.”

Pasche considers my words for a moment, and is struggling with an obvious frustration before she finally settles on something. “... I want our day together.”

“I… You want what?”

“In Alesia, we were going to spend the whole day together after that whole kerfuffle with the former High King. The Convention took that day from me. I want it back.”

“Oh… You-”

“Conquer Medhelanon, and when I return to the army we will have a day together there. I’m not sure what will be left once the dust settles, but I’m certain we’ll find something to do. Promise me, Serena.”

Oh hell… She looks desperate for this. For me. For disgusting, distressing, dishonorable me. Does she just love pain? Is that it? Why else would she insist on my presence, why else would she be willing to take bullets for me? Am I just her sadist? Surely not, right?

… You have to be alive to be in pain, and this will help keep Pasche that way. “I promise. When we conquer the city I shall spend an entire day with you upon your return. I swear upon-”

My tongue catches in my throat… I almost swore upon Her Majesty.

“Upon your family name?” Pasche, throwing me a lifeline, as always.

“Upon the name Pollineux. I swear. Upon the name Pollineux.”

"Okay…” Pasche struggles to keep her arms to her sides, I think she’s trying not to hug me. “Fine, I'll be your cavalry, I'll kill any Magyar that dares try to make our day together awkward. But if you get shot or slashed or gods forbid, set on fire, I will never, ever forgive you."

"... Be safe Pasche. Please."

"I'll be fine."

She doesn't seem happy at all. And yet, she just won, didn’t she? She got her way, she got what she wanted. I know I have no right for her to be happy, by rights she should not be happy to have earned time alone in my presence. And yet, my stupid heart stings for her displeasure. I want her to want this. My stupid feelings refuse to act with honor.

Antoine, trying to be helpful, gives Pasche a relieved smile. "You're doing right by her, Mademoiselle Pasche. We need good cavalry officers the way we need air."

"Don't rub it in, Antoine..." She seethes at Antoine, but when her eyes catch me again she looks to be struck with a sudden pain. "Serena, I'll... I'll see you when I see you next."

I want to call her back to my side. I bite my tongue and give Pasche a nod. My throat is not up to the task of telling Pasche 'goodbye', but for her own good and mine, that's exactly what I must communicate. She awkwardly makes her leave, she has her orders and now she's actually going to carry them out. And that leaves the rest of us behind, ready to discuss the main event. The storming of Medhelanon. All it took to get here was making day plans with Pasche in front of the entire officer corps, including Lazierte. A Lazierte who has been staring at me oddly ever since Pasche mentioned 'scars'.

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With that little problem having been resolved Antoine gestures for me to retake my seat, and when I do so he continues our briefing. "Now, the main problem is going to be the city's new fortifications. Last time we managed to take Medhelanon entirely by surprise, but it seems in the time since they retook it the Samnian army has decided to make it difficult for us."

There is a brief sharp glance in Lazierte's direction, one which she successfully manages to have no reaction to whatsoever. "According to our scouts they've built palisades into the outlying suburbs, and an inner ring in the city's main square. The defenses are too closely integrated into the buildings themselves, there’s not a cannon on Lutice accurate enough to break them without tearing the entire city apart."

And turn the site of Pasche and I's future plans into a pile of rubble. Tactical considerations aren't meant to be made for the sake of preserving dates. And this is by far the easiest solution, the one that costs us the fewest troops. I should be advocating for it, why isn't my mouth able to form these words?

Antoine certainly has enough of them for the both of us, though it seems odd to hear him advocate for a suboptimal solution for humanist reasons. "And we would prefer to keep the city as intact as possible. Liberators and all. So we'll have to storm those defenses as best we can. And quickly, before any Magyars can reform and try to attack us here."

"Life would be so much simpler if we could spare the time for a siege, wouldn't it?" Lazierte blithe little comment is ill-equipped to cover her obvious displeasure.

"Life would be simpler if we didn't have wars at all, Lazierte. But we were not put upon Lutice to do simple things." All machismo, my dear brother is. "... But we can't just be wasting men against prepared firing positions. We need a plan, one that will see the men through this intact."

Well, blowing them all to pieces from outside is apparently out, my consistently treacherous throat seems utterly determined to make that position impossible to argue, it apparently not being up to the task of being a general or a monster. So how do you storm fortifications in maneuver warfare? ... Didn't I encounter something like this before?

The castle. We made our way through that because of Katarina's treachery as much as anything else. Which I assume isn't an option again, no one's going to open a path for us 'liberators' so we can establish that 'Samnian Republic' Antoine’s so keen on. So I suppose it must be time to actually put my plan to the test.

"If we cautiously advance on one side, the enemy will bring up their reserves to meet us. Then we can rapidly advance on the other three sides before they can redeploy. Mass troops on the opposite side with diversionary attacks on the flanks, we might be able to force a breakthrough, and from there we can take their exterior fortifications from both ends. Roll the enemy positions up and then all march on the central square together..." Almost the entire population of the tent appears to be staring at me, I think they might be annoyed to hear me speak, to take any of my brother’s attention. "I believe that's likely the most prudent plan to keep damage in the city to a minimum."

Antoine ravenously consumes my words and finds reason to smile in them. "Now that is a plan a Pollineux would come up with! Yes, I believe this might just work perfectly. If I take the front I can draw the fire of the enemy while minimizing casualties. They're likely to throw everything they can muster to try and halt the advance of the 'Messiah of Steel', completely oblivious to the threat posed by the other Pollineux! It's absolutely perfect!"

The officers cheer for the plan now that it’s come out of the mouth of Antoine. Apparently a plan is only worth listening to if it comes from the mouth of their... 'Messiah of Steel'?

Lazierte asks before I can. "Messiah of Steel? Antoine, are you making up titles again?"

"Yes. Do you like it?" The way Antoine grins at Lazierte implies he knows the answer already.

"It's dumber than the last one, future historians are going to make fun of you."

"Oh Lazierte, you are so cruel to me." And yet Antoine looks remarkably satisfied for someone being pilloried. "Alright, Lazierte you will lead the troops on the eastern flank of the city, here. You and your regiment only be performing diversionary actions, so do not engage too aggressively and wait for Serena's troops to-"

"Only diversionary actions? Antoine, your sister is going to be in there alone!"

"... Lazierte, she will have an army."

"Yes but-"

"She proved herself more than capable in our prior battle with the Magyars, I believe she will be just as effective here. I have the utmost confidence in her abilities as a leader, and as a soldier. I must confess, I find your lack of faith to be more than a little disconcerting, Lazierte. Surely you must see that Serena is the best person for this role, right?"

"... If she gets hurt-"

"I will take full responsibility, Colonel. I have the utmost faith in her."

“No amount of blame splitting will heal her wounds, Antoine.”

Lazierte eventually withdraws again, now simply staring at me, her eyes lost in my form. Is she looking for my scars? The slash on my shoulder, the entry wound on my chest… Should I show her? Put her mind at ease? … Unbuttoning my dress in Lazierte’s presence is probably a mistake, as friendly as she’s likely to interpret it. Something about the idea makes my heart quicken and my mouth water in anticipation, and these are the signs of a bad plan.

If Antoine is picking up on any of my internal crises and Lazierte’s misplaced concern, he’s very good at not showing it. "Now, if we have no more objections to our plans, I believe we should see to our troops. The attack will commence at 0100 hours."

This plan pisses off Lazierte all over again. "Tonight? We're attacking tonight?!"

And admittedly, I am more than a little trepidatious myself. "At night? This plan takes a fair bit of coordination, and if we can't use our cannons then how are we on the flanks and at the rear supposed to know when to begin our advance?"

"We might not be using our cannons, but the Samnians will probably be using theirs the moment they know we're coming. Listen for the sounds of their guns, then charge." Antoine's voice is all business until some pride slips through. "Perhaps I ought to give a speech for the men before the palisade, so the Samnians know just who they're dealing with. They might not be able to see my regimental colors in the dark."

"This still doesn't seem like the most foolproof plan-"

"Just giving us every possible advantage, sis. Disorient the enemy and it'll ensure they'll not be able to organize in time to mobilize effectively on four fronts. These Samnians are actually motivated, and they're not half bad in a fair fight. So best practice is to not give them one."

"... I understand." Even if it doesn't precisely make me any more confident in moving at night, memories of being shot at by my own garrison at the oppidum in Germany are still fresh in my mind. "I'll get the men prepared then! It's best we get this over with quickly, right?"

"Best we do everything quickly, Serena. Best we do everything quickly."

Antoine is clearly amused, humming a little to himself as he gestures for Lazierte and his other officers to see to their regiments. Dutifully the officers left to get to their duty. Including Lazierte, although she hesitates. She gave me an almost piteous look, she’s terrified... I have to protect her, no matter what I must protect her.

When she and the other officers are gone I feel a hand on my shoulder, and it takes a moment to realize that Antoine is trying to comfort me. "She'll eventually understand. She'll learn what a Pollineux is capable of."

"... She looks so terrified." My words just slip out of me, it’s shameful to denigrate Lazierte this way.

"She's always been a cautious sort, that girl. It's possibly the least cute aspect of her- Ah, but I shouldn't say such things about your wife, should I?"

Another uncomfortable little stirring in my heart, this idea is still dangerous. "We aren't married, brother. We literally can't be-"

"Oh hush, what Pollineux would let something as trivial as Gods or a priesthood get in their way?" He chuckles, but turns oddly serious. "Somehow I didn't notice before, but you being... As you are? It does explain some things. Hehe, I'm halfway certain at least two of my previous failed conquests may have had eyes for you more than they did me."

"Brother, I'm nine years younger than you!" As nice as it was that he’s taking this well, this little revelation is a bit embarrassing. "I didn't even know this about myself until I went to the Military Academy..."

And witnessed Her Majesty. Have I been breaking people's hearts since even before I met Katje? Have I been a blasphemer from the beginning? Do I just cause pain wherever I go?

"I don't know what to tell you, I think they saw something in you they didn't see in me." Antoine shrugs, before ruffling my hair. "Something no one can take from you. And one avenue in which you have bested me thoroughly. I'm certain you'll do amazing things with that gift of yours, Sister."

"... You're never one to give pep talks, brother. Is something the matter? Are you dying?"

"I'm merely a very selfish man, Serena. If I'm to lose to you, I must make it known that you are the very best." There is almost something genuinely charming and charmingly genuine in his smile, something that probably would serve him better if it were more present in his life. "Of course, that means I have much to teach you before you can surpass me on a battlefield. This battle will be just another step."

"Antoine..."

I can't help but give my stupid brother a hug. I couldn't imagine him giving me such a vote of confidence before, and I couldn't imagine anyone else in my family who would. And it’s all built on a lie. I made a mistake at the Po River, Pasche had to bail me out, and that left Lazierte vulnerable! If her soldiers were any less willing to fight to the death she’d have been overrun, she could have been killed! My failures, my sins, must be redeemed. As useless as I am, I can at least take a bullet for Lazierte if I must. I can protect her, I can do better, I must do better. I must not disappoint. I must take Medhelanon.

I must be a Pollineux. A Pollineux as competent and beloved as my brother can be ‘The Messiah of Steel’. All her sinful little sister can be is the Monster of Kerska.