Everyone Has a Superior They Want to Punch
If you are a working person, it is only natural to have at least one superior you desperately want to beat to a pulp. And Chloe Amboise, a proud soldier of the Kingdom of Ivanes, was no exception.
Chloe muttered under her breath, "Is this even living...?"
Midsummer, two in the afternoon. The sun beat down mercilessly on the training ground of the Royal Guard, a unit directly under the Army of the Kingdom of Ivanes. About forty guardsmen were currently face-down, their heads pressed hard against the dirt. They were in full gear, rifles slung over their backs. In short, they were undergoing a punishment drill.
A few of them, sweating profusely with their hands clasped behind their backs, grumbled in hushed voices.
"Did you seriously not know that serving under Brigadier General Berk is a living hell?"
"Ugh, seriously. I'm transferring out of the Royal Guard the very next time personnel assignments come around."
The Royal Guard was supposed to be an elite gathering of the finest knights, boasting both exceptional skill and noble lineage. Why on earth were these highly dignified and honorable guardsmen subjected to such humiliation? The reason was absurdly simple: Chloe Amboise's superior, Curtis Shan Berk, was a complete lunatic.
Originally, the Guard had been practicing for an upcoming military parade to mark a diplomatic event with the Kingdom of Glintland. The problem lay with the 1st and 2nd Squads, who were always at each other's throats. Georges, the 1st Squad Leader, and Ezra, the 2nd Squad Leader. Eager for any excuse to tear into one another, they had started nitpicking each other's performance. And then, inevitably...
"Lax discipline. Collective responsibility. We shall conduct a service inspection."
With those few words, their highest-ranking commander, Brigadier General Curtis Shan Berk—who also happened to be a Grand Duke—had ordered the entire Guard to plant their heads into the dirt. That was barely an hour ago.
While military punishments rarely required a logical reason, Chloe felt utterly wronged. Today was supposed to be her day off. She had absolutely no reason to be here.
Yet, she had pulled consecutive all-nighters for the past two days, solely because of the mountain of work the Brigadier General had dumped on her. She had only planned to drop off the report she had finally finished around lunchtime and head straight home. But the Brigadier General, whom she expected to find on the training ground, was nowhere to be seen. To make matters worse, Georges and Ezra were in the middle of a childish squabble right there on the dirt.
"It's because you idiots fight like this that I can't go home! Get it together! Do you want to get chewed out by the Brigadier General again?"
She had merely scolded them. That was all.
"I heard Warrant Officer Amboise's concern about getting chewed out loud and clear. The Warrant Officer shall join her comrades in this service inspection, then."
Of all times, Brigadier General Berk had to choose that exact moment to make his grand entrance.
Having been subjected to a punishment drill for an hour right on the verge of going home, Chloe's vision began to blur. Excuse me. You absolute psycho. Just let me go home... No, wait. Forget going home. Just let me discharge.
"Please, just let me discharge..."
It was a desperate plea wrung from her soul amidst the grueling punishment, not something she expected anyone to answer. Yet, shockingly, a reply came.
"I'm afraid that's impossible, Warrant Officer Amboise."
Chloe's eyes snapped wide open. A painfully familiar low voice had drifted down from directly above her head. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her fading consciousness; goosebumps erupted all over her skin.
"A discharge is out of the question."
Chloe grit her teeth. Someone, please, tell me this is a dream.
"Warrant Officer Amboise. Do you not hear me?"
In the next instant, Chloe sprang up like an automaton and snapped a crisp salute.
"Loyalty! Warrant Officer Chloe Amboise, reporting! I have clearly heard Brigadier General Curtis Shan Berk's words, sir!"
Standing before her with his hands clasped arrogantly behind his back, the man let out a soft snort. Curtis Shan Berk. The breathtakingly handsome blond man standing in front of Chloe was none other than the infamous Brigadier General Berk—her direct superior and the Grand Duke of Ivanes.
He was the half-brother of the current King, a proud hero of Ivanes who had led nearly ten major battles to victory. And...
A complete lunatic.
Of of course, "lunatic" was practically an affectionate nickname—one that the soldiers of the Royal Guard under Brigadier General Berk ground their teeth to whisper with deep, begrudging love. And right now, that very lunatic smirked at Chloe. A cold sweat trickled down her spine.
When did he even get here? He could at least make some noise.
There was a saying passed down to every recruit who first joined the Royal Guard: If Brigadier General Berk is expressionless, things may or may not be ruined. If he is irritated, things are ruined. But if he smiles, you are definitely screwed.
She was definitely screwed.
Realizing she was doomed, Chloe immediately tried to mitigate the damage by offering herself up.
"Taking full responsibility for failing to show proper respect to the Brigadier General, I shall undergo thirty more minutes of service inspection on this spot, sir!"
"Service inspection" was just military jargon for a punishment drill.
I might as well die today. If I drop dead of heatstroke right here, at least my family will get a pension.
Chloe squeezed her eyes shut and began to lower herself back toward the dirt.
But just as she was about to bid farewell to the well-being of her forehead, her superior unexpectedly waved his hand.
"I appreciate the Warrant Officer's eagerness to lead by example for her fellow soldiers. Stand up."
"Pardon?"
Chloe, who was just about to kneel, hesitated. Curtis furrowed his brow, silently asking if he really had to repeat himself. Flinching, Chloe quickly stood up straight. In the brief moment she took to adjust her posture, a whirlwind of thoughts rushed through her mind.
Is he setting me up to lead by example on the gallows today?
Anyone else might have thought she was overreacting, but any member of the Royal Guard would have agreed that her suspicion was entirely reasonable. Curtis Shan Berk was exactly that kind of bastard.
He was a germaphobic, workaholic sociopath who handed out punishment drills to his subordinates like candy. Some days, it felt like they received more punishments than they did meals. And they couldn't even complain. In the military, rank was everything, and that man was both a Brigadier General and a Grand Duke.
This was also precisely why Chloe had ended up as his aide. Before her arrival, that wretched man had gone through twenty aides in a single year. It was so bad that Chloe, who had originally served in the Navy, had only accepted the transfer after being promised a four-hundred-percent bonus.
But dear God, is it too late for me to become the twenty-first aide to quit?
Unfortunately, yes. In exchange for that massive bonus, Chloe had signed a clause stating she would "serve as Curtis Shan Berk's aide for a mandatory period of two years." They always said you should never sign a contract blindly.
"Warrant Officer Amboise."
"Yes, sir. Please speak, Brigadier General."
Suppressing the urge to rip that contract to shreds then and there, Chloe answered her boss in her most disciplined, military tone.
Brigadier General Berk immediately issued his command.
"You will assist me at the royal diplomatic banquet tonight, which the Duke of Glintland will be attending."
"Pardon? But today I..."
She had almost blurted out, But today is my day off! Biting her tongue just in time, Chloe swallowed her words and forced a polite response.
"Would it be appropriate for someone of my standing to assist you at such an event, Brigadier General?"
A sharp retort flew back instantly.
"Are you questioning your superior officer?"
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
At Chloe's reflexive response, Curtis's purple eyes narrowed. She quickly scrambled to explain.
"My deepest apologies, Your Grace. It is just that I do not own a banquet dress..."
Curtis's expression shifted to one of pure disbelief.
"What on earth would a Warrant Officer need a dress for? Have you been shot in the head?"
I should have just said it was my day off.
"Are you planning to boil your Royal Guard dress uniform for stew?"
Behind her, she could hear Georges and Ezra stifling their snickers. Those absolute bastards. Chloe grit her teeth, forced a bright smile, and saluted.
"Loyalty! I shall obey, sir!"
Curtis clicked his tongue.
"Report to my estate by six o'clock in your dress uniform."
"Yes, sir!"
"And..."
The man narrowed his eyes, reaching out to brush a finger across Chloe's sweat-drenched forehead. As Chloe flinched, he pulled out a handkerchief with an irritated sigh, wiped his hand, and spoke.
"Fortunately, you don't smell."
"Pardon?"
"But make sure you wash up before you come."
"...Loyalty."
Chloe replied a beat too late, pursing her lips tightly. I want to hit him. Just once. I'd sell my soul for the chance.
Of course, Chloe never actually believed such a thing would be possible. To repeat: in the military, rank was absolute, and that man was a Grand Duke. But life rarely goes according to plan. Thus, Chloe was about to receive an unexpected opportunity to strike back at her superior. And that very evening, no less. Though she would have never, in her wildest dreams, guessed that the price of that strike would be her own marriage.