I led five thousand soldiers into this butcher's yard. Almost two thousand did not return to me alive. Another thousand did not return to me intact, clutching blood-soaked arms or dragging shattered legs behind them. About half of them won't survive the medical tent, I've lost almost half of my infantry in a single engagement. The cavalry isn't looking much better, eight hundred went to seize the Thuringian guns, five hundred returned, a handful without their horses... How am I meant to feel about this victory?

The Earthworks surrounding the fort, the trenches and the firing positions, are simply too clogged with corpses to be usable anymore. Not usable as fortifications at any rate, the men found a purpose for them, turning them into impromptu mass graves for friend and foe alike. Hopefully a foot or two of cold earth will keep the ghouls away. Malmo's priests of Leather spread red poppy seeds among the dead, a ravenous plant that will grow very well in that soil for having so many bodies as fertilizer.

We count the men, we reorganize the survivors into new regiments, we honor the gods by sacrificing the prisoners to Steel, we ensure the supply wagons arrive intact and get the troops a meal, a slightly larger helping given how many mouths we no longer have to feed... Surely after all that my duty is finally done, and I can finally take a bath to wash the battlefield off me... But unfortunately, we have captured someone important. A colonel, and a colonel that Malmo cautioned me against talking to. Which is just suspicious enough to make me request the right to interrogate the man, even if it means putting up with Malmo ‘supervising’.

"You look like shit, mademoiselle." The colonel does speak Avernian as it turns out, although he seems to have learned some words a little too well. "We must be about to win the fucking war if they're sending women in uniform to fight us."

"I wouldn't concern yourself with the wider war right now, colonel. After all, if you do not cooperate, well, no army in the world will be able to save you from us." Pasche had decided to join me in the interrogation, and thank the gods for it, I am completely lost when it comes to intimidating people.

"You think you scare me, woma-AGH!"

With a single fluid motion Pasche draws her saber and cuts off one of the man's fingers, glaring at him with an intensity that might cut off another finger all its own. "I think I am scary, monsieur. And I act accordingly."

I wince at the sight, Malmo averts his eyes entirely. Pasche was so gentle when I had first met her in that pit full of corpses… But this is certainly effective. While Malmo and I now are quite scared of Pasche, our prisoner has been rendered terrified.

Between curses in German the mutilated colonel pathetically wails. "This... This is against the conduct of war! This is not how gentlemen on a battlefield conduct themselves!"

"Do you see any gentlemen here, monsieur?" Pasche is especially incensed by this little scream, raising her saber for another swing, halting only as the man flinches in response. "... I think you've finally realized what you're dealing with here."

“Hey, I’m still here...” Malmo mumbles under his breath, apparently displeased to not be counted as a ‘gentleman’, or as not visible.

"Where are the rest of the Coalition forces, monsieur?" I decide to chime in, I'm starting to feel sorry for the poor colonel. "How many, how many guns?"

He only manages to scrape together the sheer minimum of composure required to answer me, still struggling against his restraints and failing to clutch his fingerless hand. "H... How should I know? The Icenians are the only ones keeping track of that kind of thing, they're the only ones stupid enough to think this war is a group effort!"

"... So, the Thuringian army was acting unilaterally? ... Why not wait for your allies? We barely clawed a victory here. If you'd had anyone by your side then Malmo’s forces would have lost the fort before my forces could even arrive."

"If we did that it would ruin the whole point of the attack! If we Thuringians could break the Army of the East ourselves then we'd have a head start charging into Avernia, we'd be able to secure towns and cities before anyone else, and our archaeologists would be able to-"

"Archaeologists?!" Pasche brings her fist down on a nearby table, cracking the wood with a single, heavy strike.... "This is a war, monsieur. What possible use could archaeologists have? I can't imagine you're attempting to advance the knowledge of pre-Carthaginian anthropology in Avernia!"

The colonel tries to force a laugh, before taking a second look at Pasche and deciding against it. "... Do you idiots even know why this war started?"

I raise an eyebrow, I’ve heard snippets here and there but it dawns on me that the Marshal never actually told us why half of La'an declared war on Avernia all at once. "... Was it The Convention of Humanity? I can imagine the nations of La'an are scared that republican ideals might spread and-"

"Your 'republican ideals' are going to fall apart within a decade, no one is scared of your little experiment. Except maybe Icenia, but they've always been a little... Odd. In any case, we're not here for Avernia, or Avernians. We're here for The Heart."

"... I beg your pardon?"

"All our kings and princes received the same letter; The Heart had been found somewhere in Avernia. So, every nation in La'an that thought they had a chance raised their armies so they could scour the country for it. Some have tried more... Subtle methods, but those never panned out. It was decided military occupation would be required to find the thing, so we formed the Coalition to destroy the Avernian army... And then prepared to kill each other the moment Avernia was open."

"All for... What the hell is ‘The Heart’?" ... Such language from me, am I finally becoming a soldier?

"Someone higher up must really not trust you if they haven't even told you that! The Heart is-"

"That's quite enough of that nonsense!" Malmo stands to his feet, staring a hole into the Colonel in question. “Sir, if you are going to spin wild fantasies and conspiracy theories rather than give us any concrete information about The Coalition’s armies, then this interrogation is over!”

Pasche is barely resisting the urge to raise her saber again, and I'm tempted to let her. "What are you doing, Malmo?!"

"The Convention has heard rumors about this supposed 'Heart' and has decided that they are bad for social cohesion and unity. As such, they have made spreading such lies a criminal offense. I would rather you not be at risk of learning information that might cause you to be brought to a Grove of Steel."

Laws against information? Isn't the Convention of Humanity supposed to be... 'Humanistic'? Seems the nascent republic won’t tell me about this thing that could spark a La'anian war... Her Majesty would be kind enough to do so, surely…

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Malmo is already halfway out the door, dragging the Colonel out of the tent roughly by the arm when he turns back for a moment, giving a parting shot. "I'd take that bath now, Mademoiselle Pollineux. I've had a priest of Velvet prepare it for you."

I want to vomit. I have some idea of what he means by that, even playing in the Groves of Velvet as a child gave me a vague notion of what happened there when the day ended and the children all went home. I wonder what kind of ‘normal’ would make that seem like a nice gesture. I get to my feet and decide that Pasche might be a necessary addition to my bath time. Priests and priestesses can be insistent sorts, it is an admirable trait except when it isn't.

"Pasche, if you would accompany me?"

"... I... Excuse me, mademoiselle but-"

"Serena, please. I think I'll need someone to protect me from Malmo's little kindness. And I'd certainly prefer the company of a woman over a... A priest of Velvet of all things."

"Bu- But."

"If you're worried that it is improper, don't be. Just treat me like any other soldier, we needn't bring rank or status into this."

"No, that's not what I mean-"

I throw out my power and catch Pasche in it. She’s still remarkably nervous, even for something I am certain is a normal thing for women to do together. It's hardly like I invited her to take Lazierte's spot after all, I wasn't asking her to be my best friend and be bent like me. Just to keep me company and keep a priest away from me. Pasche's eyes glaze over just a little, which I am certain is not typically an effect of my power, and she nods her assent.

"I... If you wish, Serena."

She still looks nervous despite agreeing, despite my power... Odd. Still, she does follow me, and follows me all the way to the makeshift bathhouse. Warm baths are more a luxury for officers, the troops typically bathed in rivers, or not at all, so there was no queue. And as Malmo arranged, a man in thin satin robes stands outside, a smile on his face, though one which did not reach his eyes.

"The water is simply divine, mademoiselle Pollineux. Care to join me-"

"I am going to have no need of your services, monsieur. And I imagine there are troops waiting on the... Ministrations of Velvet. Perhaps you should go to them."

"General Malmo specifically requested I be assigned to you, he said you seemed stressed."

"No number of men in my bath are going to make me less stressed, monsieur."

It is perhaps not the best thing to admit to blasphemy in front of a priest, but in fairness it is a blasphemy against Wool to be ‘bent’, and Wool and Velvet are at odds as far as gods went, almost to the extent of Wool and Cotton. Their priests and priestesses never get along, perhaps this priest might forgive this little... Ungodly proclivity of mine.

... While I believed there was an outside chance he wouldn't shame me for having no interest in his gender, I was remarkably surprised to find him simply rolling with it. "Shall I fetch a priestess then, Mademoiselle-"

"I would like. To have. A bath. Please."

The priest seems desperately confused, at least until his eyes catch Pasche, which clearly makes her more than a little uncomfortable. "Ahhhh! I see now. Very well, enjoy your bath, ladies."

The priest seems to almost be genuinely giggling under his breath as he makes his exit, almost... Something about his amusement seems utterly artificial… Is this normal too, for a priest or priestess of Velvet to seem so absent? Like they are lying about being happy or engaged? The priestesses back home always seemed so cheerful, was that just because I knew them as a child? I take a breath to swallow the thought, I’d prefer not to think about the Goddess of Beauty and vague notions right now. I'd prefer to take a bath. I enter the bathhouse and begin to undress, and Pasche... Takes her sweet time following. And takes her sweet time undressing at that.

All the courage I can give can't overcome her anxiety... I will have to talk her through this, won't I? "Pasche, is something the matter?"

Pasche looks down, as if her eyes can dig a tunnel and escape. "... I just… I am aware that you don't much care for men in your bath."

"... I fail to see how that is relevant-"

"You know how Malmo insists on calling me Monsieur?"

"With some amount of venom, yes. It seems rather absurd of him to insist on such a thing, you're a very obvious mademoiselle and an enthusiastic one at that."

"I am... I certainly am that. However... My body disagrees."

"... Your body disagrees?"

"My body is ummm... I can't say it is that of a man, it is my body, and I am not that. But it is... Shaped in a way that makes those who might examine me disrobed to make assumptions."

"... Pasche, you're confusing me-"

"I have a- ... I may happen to have..."

"... Oh."

It finally dawns on me what Pasche is driving at... I didn't know such a thing was actually possible, to have been born with a body that doesn't communicate your innermost identity. It sounds difficult, especially when folks like Malmo are going out of their way trying to make it a problem... I can't say that even after learning this however that I feel any particular inclination to consider Pasche anything other than a woman. And perhaps even a friend. Certainly now an officer in my army.

"... Serena, please say something, I am very scared-"

And I think I may not want to bathe alone after the day I've had. "Care to join me in the bath, mademoiselle? It's been a long, messy day."

Pasche is brighter than the sun itself for just a moment, before giving a nod. "I think I would love to get this mud out of my hair."

Pasche did disrobe, and while there are some stereotypically male... Aspects, to her body, I still can't see anything other than a woman before me. Even those 'aspects' have a feminine aura about them, it’s in the way she carried herself, in her temperament she simply is a woman... A starving woman, mind, she’s all skin and bones under her cuirass and uniform, much like Lazierte in that respect... I'll have to see if I can fix that, I won't have her passing out during a charge.

She smiles at me from the very bottom of herself as I lead her into the bath. How can anyone not want to see this smile? How could anyone try to deny her this euphoria?