It has been a month since I am promoted as the Vice Commander of the Kingdom's Military Corps. The longer I stay here, the more I know about this place, and the people too.
Yesterday, Commander Christian mentions a social gathering among high-ranking men. He says that both of us have a role to play. And right now, I am sitting at the same table as them.
"Let's cancel the Christmas celebration. The Kingdom has been in great loss since a war broke out. And since the massacre of-" A man clears his throat, cutting off the sentence.
"Let's not talk about that anymore, shall we?" a friendly voice says, stopping a potential argument.
"Ah, Duke Wycliffe. As careful as ever." The priest finally opens his mouth, joining the discussion.
Hearing this rather... ridiculous conversation, my mind comes up with a question—what's our role here?
"Be patient. Knowing them, their consultations will open a gap for you any time soon," Christian whispers. I sigh in response.
"The people have been looking forward to Christmas every year, Marquess Vienna. I don't see why we should cancel it other than for financial reasons. We can just be more rational in handling it," another man says; his opinion catches my ears.
"There's no rational way to handle finances that's really at the edge," someone else replies.
My brain suddenly makes up words — is that the gap Christian mentioned?
"Why don't we just not use money?" my mouth moves, giving an opinion.
"I mean, the Christmas celebration can be held outside the Palace's Imperial Hall. The people can celebrate it themselves."
"Do you think they have the money to do that? They are commoners," the priest debates against my idea, though I don't want to back down.
"I'll lend a hand to them. For the past month I've been here, I too have gained income. I think it's enough for them," I argue, keeping my calm determination.
I remember exactly what my mother said years ago. For our life, not only serve the king, but also prioritize his people.
"Also, if the nobles have a problem with that, just open Guttensberg Hall. I heard it doesn't even need decoration since the King had it set after the massacre as a symbol of his 'apology,' and I'm sure Duke Wycliffe can afford the food."
Duke Wycliffe, sitting there, looks shocked. Not just him—everyone looks. He's the only one who laughs afterward, though.
"You know what you're talking about, aren't you? If it weren't for your position as Vice Commander, I should have the right to shut your filthy mouth," he growls, clutching the glass he's holding.
Christian taps my shoulder as he rises. I follow.
"Excuse us, Your Grace. It seems our discussion is over."
"Oh yes, Commander. You shall be excused. After all, that pretty boy of yours did his job well after years of absence, no?" Duke Wycliffe smirks as he says it.
A few minutes later, we finally arrive at the gate. We sit in a carriage together just as we did this morning.
"Why would you give it out just like that? Guttensberg Hall, I mean," Christian asks.
"Why not?" I answer.
Silence fills the carriage before I change the topic.
"What does he mean by 'after years of absence'? Does he know?" Christian's eyes study me, as if he can predict my next question.
"Probably. I mean, I know about you from the King also," he answers.
Upon hearing that, my heart starts to race. What if the King has already started his plan to hunt me down? What if I am killed even before I start my plan for redemption?
My mind races, thinking what I should do. My plan starts when I meet him, and that's five months from now since I am in no position right now. Maybe I should make allies.
"Need an alliance?" Christian's voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
I stare at him. Maybe I can put some hope in this guy.
Just like that, our alliance begins.