The First Princess's Fan

"By the authority of His Majesty, we shall now confer fitting honors upon the heroes who defended the Empire."

The Chamberlain's voice rang out through the hushed air of the Audience Chamber.

"Captain Serafina von Reinhardt, Company Commander of the 2nd Company, 1st Battalion, 7th Regiment. Step forward!"

Serafina drew a short breath, then advanced toward the dais with impeccable bearing.

"Oho..."

"Is that woman the Ice Witch?"

"Far more beautiful than the rumors suggest."

Soon, Serafina knelt on one knee before the dais.

"You personally slew the enemy Great Chieftain Gromnar, and through your timely command and exceptional magical prowess, you minimized casualties among our allies. Your service is beyond measure."

The Chamberlain continued.

"Accordingly, you are promoted to Major and awarded the Imperial Eagle Cross."

"I am grateful for His Majesty's grace. I shall fight only for the glory of the Empire."

Captain to Major. An extraordinarily rapid promotion — the kind that normally took years. But considering her achievements, it was a reward that made one nod in acknowledgment.

Then came the next turn.

"First Lieutenant Erika von Stahlberg, Platoon Leader of the 2nd Platoon, 2nd Company, 1st Battalion, 7th Regiment. Step forward!"

At the call of her name, Erika flinched. She walked to the dais with a stiff expression.

"In this operation, you..."

With every merit the Chamberlain recited, Erika's expression soured further. The minor accomplishments had been inflated beyond recognition.

"...sealing off the enemy's line of retreat, and skillfully repelling a surprise attack from the rear..."

Her pedigree as the daughter of the Imperial Army's Supreme Commander, plus a nominal merit for "holding the retreat route." For a proud woman like Erika, this must have been hard to swallow.

"...Accordingly, you are promoted to Captain in the Imperial Army."

"...It is an honor, Your Majesty."

Erika bowed her head.

And then, at long last, it was my turn.

"First Lieutenant Max Jäger, Platoon Leader of the 3rd Platoon, 2nd Company, 1st Battalion, 7th Regiment. Step forward!"

The moment my name rang out, the Audience Chamber fell silent in an instant. I walked up onto the dais.

"Your deeds are too numerous to recount one by one."

Every eye in the room was fixed on me. Envy and jealousy, admiration and awe — and interest, and... greed.

"Enemy infiltration and supply line destruction, rescue of allied forces, the devising of deception tactics, and your decisive contribution in the engagement against the enemy Great Chieftain. The success of the Ashen Forest operation would have been impossible without your cunning, Lieutenant Jäger."

Attendants and chambermaids approached me, each carrying an ornate wooden case.

"Accordingly, you are elevated from First Lieutenant to Captain, and awarded the Imperial Cross — one grade above the Iron Cross — so that you may continue to serve the glory of the Empire."

"I am unworthy of such grace... my deepest gratitude."

One of the attendants pinned the Imperial Cross to my chest. Beside the rugged, unadorned Iron Cross now hung the Imperial Cross, trimmed in silver.

Next, they removed my rank insignia and epaulettes, replacing them with those of a Captain. The weighty feel of three diamonds. Captain. I'd finally made it.

Last of all, the Regimental Commander was called.

"Colonel Karl von Dietrich, Commander of the 7th Regiment. Step forward!"

His footsteps were light as if he were walking on clouds. His eyes gleamed, and his grin stretched from ear to ear.

"As Regimental Commander, you annihilated the enemy with masterful generalship and led your subordinates with distinction."

This time, the Emperor himself descended from the dais. He drew a baton from his own belt and handed it to the Colonel.

"Accordingly, I hereby promote you to Brigadier General in the Imperial Army, and elevate the 7th Regiment to the 7th Brigade!"

"Ohh, Your Majesty!!! This old man cannot hold back his tears of gratitude!"

The Regimental Commander — no, Brigadier General Dietrich now — collapsed to the floor, banging his head and weeping aloud.

Brigadier General. A star.

It was the moment his lifelong wish came true.

The Emperor, looking satisfied, spread his arms wide.

"Tonight, a celebration shall be held in your honor at the Grand Banquet Hall of the Imperial Palace! Revel to your hearts' content, heroes of the Empire!"

Cheers and applause erupted, filling the Audience Chamber to its rafters.

The Grand Banquet Hall of the Imperial Palace was splendor incarnate.

Long tables were piled mountain-high with every delicacy imaginable, and from the fountains flowed not water, but the finest vintage wine.

"Ohh, so you're the Captain Jäger I've heard so much about?"

"You look even more dashing in person! We heard the stories — you blew up an ammunition depot and sent the orcs flying!"

And so the dignitaries came swarming toward me.

I switched on Charming Speechcraft at a moderate level and worked the crowd on autopilot.

"You flatter me, my lord Count. It was all thanks to the blood and sweat of my soldiers."

"The honor is mine, my lady. Compared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to your beauty, my achievements are nothing but a mound of dirt."

A modest dose of humility and flattery, and they retreated with satisfied smiles.

...What a nuisance.

Seizing a lull, I slipped away toward a secluded terrace. I'd had my fill of sycophants for one evening.

I was just about to breathe in the cold night air when —

Click. Click.

The rhythmic tap of heels, and the hem of an ornate gown drifted into my field of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vision.

The First Imperial Princess, Ailit von Rohengart.

She had dismissed her attendants a good distance back and was walking toward me alone. Her golden hair and crimson eyes, drenched in moonlight, were beautiful to the point of holiness.

Reflexively, I straightened my posture and bowed my head.

"Your Highness the First Princess."

"I seem to have interrupted your rest, have I, Sir Hero?"

She hid her mouth behind her fan and laughed, her eyes folding elegantly. Her voice was as clear and lovely as jade beads rolling across silk.

"Not at all. It is an honor."

"Heh. An honor, is it..."

She took one step closer to me.

"Then enjoy a little more of that honor."

Tap.

The ornate feather fan in her hand tumbled limply to the floor at my boots. An unmistakable act of deliberation.

"Oh dear. My hand slipped."

She feigned an accident with total composure, watching me from above without moving a muscle.

...What is this.

Status Analysis.

Ha. I swallowed a dry laugh. Sadism in its purest form — wielding her authority to bend others, then savoring her own superiority at the sight.

Any ordinary soldier would have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠panicked — either scrambling to pick it up, or flushing red with wounded pride and stiffening up. Either way, they'd have been dragged onto her stage, dancing to her script.

A relaxed smile settled on my lips. Then, very slowly, I sank to one knee and picked the feather fan up off the floor.

I lifted my head and gazed up at her. Her crimson eyes looked down at me. Because I was kneeling, my line of sight naturally climbed along the curve of her slender waist and the full swell of her chest.

"Your Highness."

Holding the fan aloft in both hands, I murmured with feigned regret.

Charming Speechcraft.

"The fan seems heartbroken, Your Highness — torn from your touch and fallen to the floor."

"...What?"

A flicker passed across Ailit's brow. Not what she'd been expecting, evidently.

"But thanks to it, an Imperial soldier has been granted the chance to gaze up at the Empire's most exalted person from its lowest place. I would have to call that an honor as well."

Instead of handing the fan back, I gently wrapped my hands around her pale, delicate fingers. Then, as I pressed the fan's handle into her palm, I drew my thumb across the back of her hand — slow, agonizingly slow.

Swish.

The faint friction carried through the glove. Her shoulders jolted.

"..."

For the briefest instant, confusion flashed across her face.

"Take it, Your Highness."

Ailit stared at me for a long moment — then her expression changed. It was neither contempt nor mockery, but delight. Like a predator that had found its prey far more delicious than expected, the corners of her mouth curled up to her ears.

"...Ha."

A short laugh escaped from between her crimson lips. She snatched the fan back and used its tip to tip my chin upward.

The cold touch of the fan met the underside of my jaw.

"You do talk a good game, Captain Jäger. And here I thought you spent the battlefield nothing but swinging your rifle strap around. Quite the silver tongue you've got, too."

"Merely a survival trick, Your Highness."

"To survive, is it..."

She tapped my cheek lightly with the fan.

"Yes. This capital of ours is far more dangerous than any battlefield. It is a place where a single word, a single gesture, can cost you your head."

She leaned in, bringing her lips close to my ear. A sweet yet dangerous fragrance pricked at my nose.

"I hear Duke Stahlberg has taken quite a liking to you. Which would make you the dog of my enemy."

As expected — she already knew everything.

"But a dog changes its collar the moment a new master offers better scraps. Wouldn't you say?"

Without avoiding her gaze, I whispered back.

"I am not a dog, Your Highness. I am a soldier. And a soldier follows only the commander who guarantees him victory."

"Oho?"

Ailit's eyes curved into crescent moons. My answer had pleased her considerably, it seemed.

"Victory... Very well. I shall remember that."

She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠folded the fan and straightened herself.

"Choose your allegiances carefully next time, Captain. Stand in the wrong line, and what awaits you is not victory — but ruin."

She turned and swept gracefully away — only to stop after a few steps.

"Ah. And one more thing."

She looked back at me over her shoulder with a grin. A smile so bewitching it raised the hairs on my neck.

"That look just now — I didn't mind it. That insolent gaze of yours, as though you were appraising a princess."

"...!"

"Come visit my chambers sometime. I'll put that insolence to the test... and see just how far it gets you."

Click. Click. Click.

She vanished down the corridor.

"...Certifiable madwoman."

And I murmured quietly to myself. To no one but myself.