No Anomalies in Operation (4)
"Any peculiarities?"
As Gobert posed the question, the generals exchanged glances instead of answering right away, delaying their report. Watching them, Gobert didn't snap in anger but sighed inwardly instead. Sure, he had stars on his epaulets, but as a commander, he had far less frontline experience than even the legion captains. He'd been placed in the role by order of the late king, but there was no way the generals truly followed him out of loyalty. They obeyed only because he was a prince—and given the current state of affairs, with Elua in a precarious position, Gobert could potentially become the next in line for the throne. It was pure political calculus.
One of the generals stepped forward, pointer in hand, and reported on the reinforcements they'd identified so far—their affiliations, sizes, and such. On the right side of the tangled border lines, red flags marking the Bacomor forces stood in disorganized clusters. It was more than twice their usual garrison strength.
"No unusual movements yet. It doesn't look like any additional reinforcements beyond the last observed troops."
Not much change since before I visited Rosens. Gobert thought. No matter how aggressive the Bacomor army is, they won't launch a reckless assault right now. The Luchia border guards are just as fierce, and the legions backing them up are the kingdom's elite. If headquarters holds position here, there shouldn't be any surprises.
Assuming the generals actually follow my lead.
"Carry on, then. Report any peculiarities immediately, and especially strengthen rear security in your sectors. Bacomor special forces might be active."
He phrased it that way, but in truth, the order was to guard against any potential probes from the capital. Gobert had no idea how Elua currently viewed him. Nothing had been said outright, but it was clear they included him among the suspects in the late king's assassination. And even if not, as a viable heir to the throne, he was a wildcard who could stab her in the back at any moment. They'd already killed Alvis, whom the Noble Council had backed wholeheartedly—what was stopping them from coming after him too...?
Leaving the operations room, Gobert headed for his quarters. Even as frontline commander, he couldn't stay awake around the clock. Besides, he needed to mull over that cryptic prophecy from the blind fortune teller at Bertrand's inn today. "A brilliant light shines down from the heavens, and I look up at it with a smile..." It couldn't mean the sun—what the hell did it signify? The blind seer had said that if he stuck to his current path, he'd witness that exact scene at its end.
Gobert's goal was to become a solid pillar of support, letting Elua rule the kingdom stably. Of course, that meant first fully bringing the legion commanders and staff under his control—and clearing up Elua's suspicions—an incredibly tough set of tasks.
But first...sleep.
The Luchia region was always a powder keg, locked in skirmishes with Bacomor. Especially lately, with the kingdom in turmoil, Bacomor had ramped up their provocations. Gobert was perpetually sleep-deprived, so he had to snatch rest whenever he could—even if just for a few hours.
He was just stepping through the door Kamei held open for him when his adjutant came running up.
"Commander. Terribly sorry to bother you so late at night, but..."
The adjutant's face was etched with profound apology as he reported.
"Noble Council elders have arrived at headquarters."
Kamei shot back in a frosty tone.
"They came to military HQ at this hour without any prior notice?"
"Y-yes, Guard Captain. They said it's an urgent matter they need to discuss..."
Kamei glanced at Gobert. He could already guess why the Noble Council wanted to see him. No doubt, they wanted to team up and oust Elua. The council's private forces couldn't take on the legions alone, but allied with the frontline army? That changed everything. And once Elua was down, they'd put him on the throne. He was far easier to manipulate than her.
"I'll see them."
Kamei showed no particular reaction to Gobert's reply. Her job was just his safety—whatever decisions he made were outside her purview as guard captain.
A short while later, Gobert entered the headquarters reception room. The Noble Council elders already there didn't rise from their seats, merely nodding in greeting. Edran, Dolerion, Sabel, Vibelif... Heavyweights who rarely gathered in one place. They must be desperate, Gobert figured.
As he took his seat, the elders offered perfunctory greetings.
"How have you been, Commander? You look much healthier than back at the capital."
"What brings such esteemed lords all the way out here? A heads-up would have been nice."
"Given the situation—and avoiding the capital's eyes—we had no choice. Bear with us."
"Fine. Then get to the point, briefly. I'm exhausted."
Gobert's icy response forced the nobles to mask their dismay. They knew he wasn't a fool; they'd assumed he'd see through their intent to crown him and welcome them warmly. But this cold demeanor? It clashed utterly with his public reputation for kindness, leaving them flustered.
"Contact between a frontline commander and Noble Council elders is wildly inappropriate to begin with. I know why you're here: you want my support against the queen."
The elders coughed awkwardly, glancing at one another. Polite circumlocution was their norm—but this was no salon; it was the frontlines, clashing daily with Bacomor.
"Er... well... yes... that's it. Exactly."
"Sorry, but you've wasted your trip. I'm a prince, sure, but right now, I'm a soldier. Defending Luchia is my duty—mine and this command's—and that's where my focus lies. The squabbles between the council and the capital? Not my concern."
"Commander, since you're laying it all bare, we'll do the same. With your leave."
The elders spoke in coaxing tones, like soothing a sulky boy.
"We plan to depose the queen and elevate you. You're first in the line of succession, and..."
"I'm not interested in the throne. I'm not fit for it, and I'm quite content here. So please, head back."
"But we haven't even—"
"I met you despite the rudeness of showing up unannounced in the dead of night like some superior—just to say this. I don't know or care how the council views me or plans to use me, and I won't play along. And."
Gobert leaned forward, emphasizing his words as he eyed the stunned elders.
"Your statements alone give me grounds to arrest you for treasonous conspiracy right now. But I won't—so leave."
"Commander! Will you just watch as the kingdom flickers like a candle in the wind? Stand by idly here, like you did at the capital?!"
"No such plans. That's precisely why I don't want the throne. You think I'm some pushover idiot, easier to handle than the queen—that's why you want me as king, right?"
The nobles, pierced to the core, fell silent. Seasoned dukes with serpentine tongues, but they'd underestimated him badly.
Gobert eyed their blinking astonishment.
"You said it well enough. The kingdom is like a candle in the wind, and I have no intention of just watching. The army exists to protect the kingdom and its people—and I won't tolerate anything that threatens that."
A stark warning to the council. Their faces drained of color; they knew it.
"Safe travels, then. Too tired to see you off."
Gobert rose, leaving them behind. He made it some distance down the hall before stopping, hand against the wall. He'd parried sharply, but it didn't suit his gentle nature.
For now... really sleep. Even a few hours, then tackle things with a clear head...
The next day, Gobert was up before dawn. In a half-daze, he reviewed last night's operation results and the day's plans, holding a brief meeting. Only afterward could he finally eat breakfast in his office—and even that looked dicey now. His adjutant entered, face full of regret, announcing a visitor.
"Who?" Gobert asked.
The adjutant replied uncertainly, as if clueless himself.
"Uh... he said the owner of some inn would ring a bell..."
Gobert bolted from his chair, dashing out. At the main gate, he spotted Bertrand standing by the guard post, bag slung over his shoulder, chuckling with the sentries like he was trading jokes.
"Brother!"
The guards snapped to salute and stepped aside at the commander's arrival. Gobert rushed up, joy surging—only for Bertrand to smack him across the cheek.