Ezra’s Headache
Ezra glared at Georges with utter disapproval before abruptly standing up. His chair scraped loudly against the floor of the officers' mess. "I'd rather die than listen to this. I'm leaving." His voice carried the heavy implication of his inner thoughts: There's no way my headache is getting any better staying here with this bastard.
Georges, of course, completely missed the subtext and called out in a panic, "Where are you going?! We're supposed to swap and write each other's personnel evaluation drafts after lunch!"
"...I don't want to hear it. Just finish eating and come out. I'll be outside having a smoke."
The semi-annual Royal Guard personnel evaluations were the bane of every squad leader's existence. It seemed Ezra had only just remembered why he had even bothered coming to the cafeteria with Georges in the first place. Watching Ezra's retreating back as he used a cigarette as an excuse to escape, Georges shrugged and patted Sarah on the shoulder.
"What's gotten into that bastard? Sigh. Don't mind him, Sarah."
"Oh, I'm fine. Warrant Officer Dubois is probably just going through a rough patch," Sarah said, waving her hands with a strained smile.
Georges's eyes widened. "Why would that bastard be having a rough patch?"
Sarah glanced around cautiously, then leaned in to whisper in Georges's ear. "Well... rumor has it that Viscountess Dubois fell ill and took to her bed after finding out that the woman she opposed so fiercely became the Grand Duchess..."
Holy crap. Georges felt a wave of genuine pity for his friend—who had actually tried to pull off his joke only to end up like a dog staring blankly at the roof after the chicken flew away—and for his friend's mother. But pity aside, it was just too hilarious. He collapsed onto the table, shaking with muffled laughter, leaving Sarah to tilt her head in confusion.
At that exact moment, in Grand Marshal Victor's office.
People generally assumed Grand Duke Berk held the highest authority in the kingdom's military. It was a fair assumption, given his ducal title and his status as a legendary war hero. Strictly speaking, however, Grand Duke Berk was only roughly second-in-command. The "roughly" was because, while he was the Commander of the Royal Guard, his actual military rank was only Brigadier General. Since there were several other brigadier generals in the army and navy, he was technically just one of many second-in-command figures. Of course, he was the only one among them who also held a grand duchy, so he was hardly "ordinary," but still.
To this roughly second-in-command, the actual number one, Grand Marshal Victor, asked, "Have you hosted a housewarming yet, Brigadier General Berk?"
The roughly second-in-command replied coldly, "You speak of the ducal residence as if it were some rustic country shack."
Grand Marshal Victor, whose hair and beard were entirely white, glared at Grand Duke Berk. His face was a complex tapestry of resentment, sorrow, and sheer injustice. "Confound it. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for me to walk on eggshells around His Majesty every single day because of you, Brigadier General?"
He had gone out of his way to search the navy and secure an aide for a subordinate with a personality disorder who fired his assistants as easily as breathing, only for that ungrateful bastard to go and start a romance with her. Fine, a romance he could tolerate. But marrying that aide to openly defy the King was a completely different story. In the eyes of the King, Grand Marshal Victor had overnight become a traitor who sabotaged the grand plan to exile Grand Duke Berk through a strategic marriage.
Yet Curtis, the very Grand Duke Berk who had caused this entire mess, remained as nonchalant as ever. "How could I not rejoice, Your Grace, now that you finally share the same sorrow as I?"
Chloe thought to herself, Wow. If I were Grand Marshal Victor, I would have written 'Died of sheer exasperation caused by Grand Duke Berk' in my will and died ten times over by now.
Just then, Grand Marshal Victor slammed his hand on the desk with a loud *thud* and looked directly at her. "Warrant Officer Berk!"
"...Yes?"
Having heard nothing but "Brigadier General Berk" for so long, hearing "Warrant Officer Berk" made Chloe assume the Grand Marshal had simply made a slip of the tongue. But after a split second, realizing it was indeed directed at her, she quickly responded, "Did you call for me, sir?"
"Who else would I be calling? Is there another Warrant Officer Berk in this room? Why was your response so slow?"
Who else indeed? There is only me. But could you perhaps cut me some slack, considering I've only had the surname 'Berk' for barely a week? Unable to voice her thoughts, Chloe forced a polite smile. "My apologies, sir. I will correct myself."
"What's the point of correcting yourself now? The ship has already sailed!"
Grand Marshal Victor snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose as if a headache were coming on. He let out a low groan. "Good grief. I am deeply disappointed in you, Warrant Officer Berk."
"My apologies, sir."
"Do you think there were no female officers who applied for the aide position because they harbored feelings for Grand Duke Berk?"
"To be frank, there weren't any," a voice chimed in.
The blunt interruption came not from Chloe, but from Curtis. A vein throbbed on Grand Marshal Victor's temple. "And you dare say that, knowing the truth?"
"My apologies."
His "apology" was delivered with a lazy, arrogant attitude that was the polar opposite of Chloe's. To an outsider, it would have seemed incredibly disrespectful—regardless of his status as a grand duke, how could a subordinate behave that way toward the supreme commander of the military? Yet Grand Marshal Victor seemed entirely accustomed to Curtis's attitude, merely rubbing his temples and grumbling.
"Your Grace, did I not explicitly tell you to just endure three years in the Royal Guard?"
"And I am enduring, am I not?"
"A man who is 'enduring' does not fire his aides left and right!"
"To be perfectly honest, firing those aides has nothing to do with His Majesty throwing me into the Royal Guard," Curtis replied with infuriating indifference. "They were simply filthy."
"Oh, is that so?" The Grand Marshal's eyes narrowed into sharp triangles. "And I suppose Warrant Officer Berk was so exceptionally clean that you just had to start a romance with her? If your next aide is clean, will you cheat on her too?"
Curtis let out a soft chuckle at the remark.
"You're laughing?" Just as the Grand Marshal was about to lose his temper, Curtis spoke up again.
"Actually, I do plan on doing exactly that."
"What?" Caught completely off guard by the unexpected response, the Grand Marshal widened his eyes in shock and looked at Chloe. Did he really just say he's going to cheat on you right to your face?
But Chloe remained entirely unbothered.
"Warrant Officer, do you plan on spending the rest of your life with me? Do you love me?"
Curtis Shan Berk had uttered those very words only a few weeks ago. In other words, this was merely a heads-up about a pre-planned course of action. Of course, that was only obvious to someone who knew the full story.
Thus, Chloe addressed Curtis in a perfectly calm, even tone. "Brigadier General, please do not be disrespectful to Grand Marshal Victor."
"My apologies, Grand Marshal," Curtis apologized immediately.
Now, Grand Marshal Victor's white eyebrows knitted together in sheer bewilderment. Under normal circumstances, Chloe was nowhere near high enough in the military hierarchy to speak to Curtis Shan Berk in such a manner. If she hadn't been appointed as Curtis's aide in the first place, even the rank of warrant officer would have been a pipe dream. For context, Chloe had only been a sergeant in the navy. Naturally, hearing this exchange, the Grand Marshal's reaction was inevitable...
"...You two are quite the actors."
Chloe kept her mouth shut and simply smiled. In a situation like this, it was Curtis's job to respond, not hers.
"My wife is far too cold to me. I only said that because I wondered if cheating might finally make her jealous."
But the Grand Marshal was no fool. "Tsk, cut the crap. Do you take this old soldier for an idiot?"
Curtis's smile widened. "An old soldier's greatest virtue is wisdom. Please, enlighten me."
The Grand Marshal clicked his tongue at Curtis's shameless response, but answered nonetheless. "Your Grace, do you see where you are standing right now?"
Curtis looked down at his feet. He was standing on a carpet woven with a beautiful honeysuckle pattern. The Grand Marshal gestured toward it with his chin and continued.
"You probably never realized it yourself, but whenever you come into my office, you always stand in the exact same spot. When you are alone, you stand over the three honeysuckle buds on the right. And when you come with other officers, you always stand exactly where you are standing now."
Underneath Curtis's feet was a single honeysuckle bud. The Grand Duke asked back, amused, "Are you suggesting I should hold her hand, then?"
"I am talking about the distance," the Grand Marshal clicked his tongue. "Everyone knows you keep your distance from other officers because you dislike them. It's a habit of yours that makes me think what a godforsaken bastard I have as a subordinate every single time I see it. Yet, the distance you've kept between yourself and Warrant Officer Berk is exactly the same."
To Chloe, this was incredibly fascinating. It was precisely the kind of keen observation one would expect from someone who had spent decades on the battlefield to rise to the position of supreme military commander. Curtis, too, seemed caught off guard, letting out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. But the Grand Marshal was not finished delivering his blows.
"Your acting is far too exaggerated. Tone it down when you're in front of His Majesty. In any case, your physical distance is the biggest giveaway."
"...I thought the story of a man transformed by love was a classic, crowd-pleasing trope."
"If you wanted to play that part, you should have transformed completely. And do you know why that trope is so popular? Because such men do not exist in reality."
"I am truly beginning to realize the weight of the saying, 'Old soldiers never die.'"
The conversation was making Chloe increasingly anxious. It was glaringly obvious that Grand Marshal Victor had realized their marriage was nothing more than a temporary shift. Yet, where did Curtis's absolute composure come from? Could it be... had Curtis Shan Berk actually shared the details of their contract with the Grand Marshal?