Metallover's Self Insert Adventure Book 3 - Blunt Force Trauma

by metallover

SI. OC. AU. Valm is finally invading! It's up to the Shepherds and the newly minted Ylissean Royal Army to stem the tide and push back against Walhart's tyranny. But after the damage that our intrepid Self Insert, Ben, has done to the relationships among the Shepherds, can they pull it off? Part 3 of Metallover's Self Insert Adventure begins! Bring on the trauma!

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Literally.

It boggled the mind.

Beorhito and his cronies were wearing the pelts of people.

Judging from the shocked gasps and exclamations around us, I wasn't the only one that felt this way. I grit my teeth so hard I was worried I'd crack a tooth, the old temper I'd tried so hard to overcome flaring back up in force.

They were trying to make a statement, clearly, to get a reaction, and it was working. I had to force myself to breathe, to relax, to focus on something, anything, else. Fortunately, Maribelle had gripped my arm in her shock, and her nails were digging into my bicep.

It hurt.

But it helped me focus, reorient myself.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing now on the floral scent of the perfume wafting off Maribelle, of rosewater and sandalwood, and forced myself to think.

They were trying to get a reaction. Out of who, it didn't matter. What mattered was how we reacted. This was politics, and if I gave them what they wanted, if we gave them the reaction they wanted, we would be on the back foot during the opening moves.

I opened my eyes just in time to see a furious Chrom halfway through pushing his way to Beorhito's little group through the assembled crowd, and an idea formed.

I had to act quickly, though.

I slipped out of Maribelle's grip, not-quite-running to Chrom through the crowd of nobility and servants. When I reached his side I slipped an arm around Chrom's shoulders and pulled him around so he was facing back the way he'd come.

"Chrom, Chrom no, Chrom, think," I whispered. "They're trying to get a rise out of us!"

"They're wearing… those monsters… we have laws!" the Exalt seethed under my arm. "These… these filthy things should be destroyed! Release me! I'll-"

"Chrom, for god's sake, stop and think," I hissed. "Don't give these bastards what they want! Be calm, be cool, be collected!"

"Those are the skins of Panne's people!" he hissed back. "It was one of Emm's first edicts! Let me go-"

"No," I growled, glancing up over my shoulder. "Those are the skins of people, yes. But we need to be smart about this. Can you be smart about this?"

Beorhito had noticed our little impromptu scrum now, and had his hands folded over his corpulent belly as he smirked evilly. Our eyes met, and I glared at him with all the hate I could muster. I think it surprised him when I grinned a little as I realized that, in this lighting, you could tell his nose was still a little crooked. I reached up, rubbing beneath my nose as if I was scratching an itch. Judging from the way his gaze darkened, he got the message.

"I can," Chrom said, heaving a deep breath.

"I got your back, big guy," I said, slapping Chrom on the back as I finally released him. "Remember: smart, cool, collected. You're the boss. You stay cool, everyone stays cool."

"Smart, cool, collected," Chrom repeated with a nod, turning.

The Exalt drew himself up to his full height, towering over me as we strode towards where Beorhito's cronies were fanning out behind him now. I couldn't help but notice the armed 'honor guard' that were with the group, and I felt a small sense of relief when I heard the telltale tap of Su'ko's wooden shoes suddenly at my back.

"Duke Beorhito," Chrom said, his voice icy in the sudden tense silence. "What do you think you are doing?"

The pompous, preening douchebag actually had the fucking nerve to chuckle as he spread his hands and looked around at the crowd gathering.

"Why, I am attending the Summons for the Council of Lords, Your Grace," he said, his voice oily and slick. "The Council you yourself called, if I remember correctly."

"Don't be cute, it doesn't suit you," I scoffed, glancing down and scoffing again. "Nice codpiece, by the way. It appears that your gut isn't the only thing big on you, unless… you wouldn't be overcompensating, would you?"

"You know very well of what I speak," Chrom said, waving me silent and glaring at the Duke. "I do not recall repealing my late sister's laws on Taguel hunting. Hunting that has been outlawed for more than two decades now."

"And may she forever rest in peace, Your Grace."

Chrom and I both turned at the sound of the new voice, a white-robed old man with a very tall and phallic hat leading an unmistakable procession of priesty-types towards the altercation. One of them held a battered old battle standard as he walked, head down and face masked beneath his robes. I could pretty much feel the gasp that went through the room at the sight of the thing.

"Archbishop Ottokar," Chrom said, his tone one of forced reverence. "Would you care to explain to me why you've taken King Marth's Battle Standard from the Cathedral's vaults?"

"Ylisse has an Archbishop?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth.

"Later," Chrom hissed back.

"I specifically asked for it," Beorhito said with a very smug grin. "I felt that, in these troubling times, the people needed to be reminded of Ylisse's… former glory."

It was then that Ottokar moved to stand with Beorhito's faction, despite the rest of the Priests and Clerics remaining in the 'neutral ground' between us, leaving no doubt to where their loyalties lay in this fight.

"That does not answer the Lord Exalt's question," Maribelle said.

I almost jumped when she spoke; I hadn't even noticed her join us.

"I am wearing the trophies of glorious past hunts," Beorhito sneered, glaring at me now. "It may be illegal to hunt those disgusting animals now, a law no longer required considering how we rightfully wiped those heathens out. It is not illegal, however, to display trophies of said glorious past hunts. And it appears I'm not the only one with a penchant for trophies."

"One, this was a gift," I said, patting the bear's head resting on my shoulder. "And two, this wasn't a person."

"Oh? You have no hunting trophies of your own?" Beorhito purred.

"Haven't had the time, I've been too busy doing my actual job, making sure my land is well-off, building Chrom's army, you know, real work," I deadpanned, crossing my arms and sinking to a hip. "Now stop trying to avoid the issue."

Beorhito scoffed, actually scoffed, as he stepped away from us, turning to address the rest of the gathered nobility and various hangers-on assembled.

"The 'issue', Duke Baham," he said, spitting my title like a curse, "Is that this fair land was founded on tradition! Traditions laid down for centuries, and in the course of a single generation our great nation teeters on the brink of collapse!"

"Ah, so he's going to play the 'old school' card," I muttered.

"Ugh. Spare me," Maribelle groaned under her breath.

Chrom remained stonily silent as he watched Beorhito's grandstanding. The fat man spun, pointing directly at Chrom with a bejeweled finger the size of a sausage, eliciting gasps from some of the crowd now.

"Your sister-"

"Tread carefully, Duke Beorhito," Frederick cut in, his voice dangerously low as he appeared behind Chrom. "Exalt Chrom is still your liege, as was the Lady Emmeryn."

The fat man paused for a moment before rallying.

"Your sister, the late Exalt Emmeryn, may Naga eternally keep her," Beorhito said in a much more respectable tone, "Effectively neutered us as a nation. She eschewed our proud martial traditions in a misguided attempt to bring about 'peace' through non-violent means."

At this Ottokar dramatically turned to face Beorhito, frowning in an exaggerated manner.

"A worthy goal, one would say," Ottokar added.

"Worthy, but futile!" Beorhito went on.

Maribelle and I both rolled our eyes. Clearly, this had been rehearsed; the acting was almost painfully obvious. Time to get them off-script.

"Beorhito!" I called, cutting him off mid-rant. "Taguel skins! Problem! Save the speech for the Council!"

"You," he hissed, eyes narrowing to enraged slits as he rounded on me. "You are a perfect example of all that has gone wrong with this nation! A foreigner, given peerage? Who then allows northern savages and those filthy sand-rats to settle his lands?"

"Those are people, too," I sighed, shaking my head. "People with lives and families, all who needed help. And, as Duke of Baham, last time I checked it was my prerogative as to who may settle in my fiefdom and accept me as their feudal lord. Those people are refugees who've lost everything, I chose to give them a chance at a new life. Honor and loyalty aren't bound by country nor creed. I mean, look at the Feroxi; they're doing alright."

"You would spout that bleeding heart nonsense, given your fascination with the sand-rats," Beorhito sneered. "It's of little surprise you let so many settle your lands."

"You're welcome," I deadpanned.

"This does beg the question, Lord Exalt," Ottokar interrupted. "Why hasn't His Grace, Lord Ben, converted to the Naganite Church?"

Beorhito smirked, as if the ball were suddenly back in his court.

"That is a good question," the fat man chuckled. "You wouldn't happen to be… a heathen, would you? Why, it's no wonder those heathens were allowed into Baham, when the Duke himself was one!"

"Ha ha, very funny," I sighed, rolling my eyes, annoyed that he was trying to railroad back to his script. "Trust me, my belief in Naga is rock solid. Stop trying to change the subject. Taguel skins. Illegal. Elaborate."

"They are traditional hunting trophies," Beorhito said slowly, as if explaining this to an idiot. "By the laws of Ylisse, I am allowed to wear these to formal gatherings."

"Formal laws that were dissolved by the previous Exalt, which I intend to uphold," Chrom declared.

"They are a part of our history," Beorhito argued.

"A dark part I would see buried," Chrom stated. "The previous Exalt's laws stand. Against my better judgement I won't force you to destroy them, but you will remove them for these proceedings."

"My Lord Chrom," Ottokar said, clearing his throat. "Might I remind you that, while the Late Lady Emmeryn did outlaw the hunting of Taguel in Ylissean territories, she did not outlaw the owning or displaying of said trophies-"

"I don't care!" Chrom finally snapped. "I want them out of my sight this instant!"

I had to resist the deep sigh building in my chest as Ottokar and Beorhito both turned away with matching grins.

That had gone better than I'd feared, but worse than I'd hoped.

Just as I was turning away to lead Chrom and Maribelle off somewhere we could discuss tactics for the meeting, I froze as Beorhito began to speak again over his fat shoulder.

"Oh, by the way Lord Exalt," he said coyly. "If trophies are going to be an issue, perhaps you should have some servants remove some of the spoils of your Late Father's Plegian campaign from the halls. One wouldn't want the good Duke Baham becoming… over-excited at the thought of the sand-rat women that made them-"

"Ooh, you are treading dangerous ground, fat man," I growled, turning slowly.

Chrom put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"Remember, Ben; calm, cool, collected," he whispered urgently.

"If you have something to say, I'd be very careful about how you say it," I warned him darkly, shrugging Chrom off. "Or this time you'll be burying a lot more than just one nephew."

Beorhito bristled, before grinning again.

"Your threats mean nothing," he said pompously. "Especially coming from a heathan that laid with a Plegian whore, and parades his disgusting half-blood bastard around like-"

I saw red.

"THAT'S MY DAUGHTER YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

As I roared I all but tore the daggers from their sheathes on my back, Chrom immediately throwing an arm around my chest as he tried to hold me back. I could feel Frederick grab me, too, but despite their weight I still managed to drag myself two more steps towards the fat Duke.

His honor guard sprung into action, making a wall of finely polished armor and swords between he and I, and as more hands struggled to keep me back Su'ko calmly stepped forward, flipped the edge of her kimono aside to reveal one perfectly-toned leg, and drew a trio of daggers one-handed from the strap on her thigh. With the same movement that she drew herself back into a ready stance, one of the small daggers flew from her hand between Beorhito's men, menacingly embedding itself in the wall scant inches from the other Duke's head. A few of his moustache hairs floated gently to the ground.

Beorhito went a shade of pale I'd never seen on anyone living before, and his bodyguard milled in confusion at the sight of the lone ninja before them.

At least, until Flavia stepped up and silently pointed her sword at the line of men, too.

Then Erutreya and the rest of her squad was there, stepping forward and drawing weapons in unison, and it looked like an all-out brawl was about to erupt-

My head snapped forward as Chrom slapped the back of it with a resounding 'thwap', before moving to stand between the two parties.

"Enough!" the Exalt roared. "Both of you will order your men to stand down, or I will have you all clapped in irons!"

"Erutreya, get out of the way," I snarled. "I don't need your help to tear through these-"

My head snapped forward again, this time from the familiar impact of a lace parasol.

"I mean, Captain, stand down," I sighed, replacing my daggers on my back. "You too, Su'ko. This isn't the time or place."

As soon as the order left my lips Erutreya's honor guard stepped back and sheathed their swords in one smooth motion, standing at attention but still between me and Beorhito's lackeys.

I glared daggers at Beorhito, who was doing his best to still look superior whilst pale and trembling. Ottokar, seeing that the Duke was in no state to be issuing orders, cleared his throat again.

"Gentlemen, please," the Archbishop said. "Lower your weapons."

The honor guard hesitated, looking back to Beorhito for confirmation. The Duke gave them a shaky nod, and the men finally lowered their weapons. To my satisfaction, their coordination was lacking compared to my own troops.

"Erutreya," Beorhito hissed. "Why am I not surprised to see you with this… rabble?"

The blonde woman scoffed, but otherwise her poise and stance remained perfect.

"You mean instead of marrying my half-brother to maintain your precious bloodline, Uncle?" Erutreya shrugged.

"It saddens me to see you shirk your duties to your family, and your Duke," Beorhito said, straightening the front of his robes now.

"He's my Duke now," Erutreya grunted with a nod in my direction. "And he's ten times the man and Lord that you could ever hope to be."

Beorhito scoffed again, before turning to look down his ever-so-slightly crooked nose at Flavia, still pointing her sword at him.

"Exalt Chrom, please have this savage remove herself from my presence," the fat Duke huffed. "Before she cuts herself with her toy."

Chrom opened his mouth to speak, but I stepped forward, putting my hand on Flavia's arm to force her to lower her sword. She looked down at me, and I subtly shook my head before turning back to Beorhito.

"If you ever say a word about my daughter again," I said softly. "You won't be able to run from me. You won't be able to hide from me. I will find you, and the hell I send you to will look like paradise when I'm done with you. That's not a threat. That's a promise."

Then I pointedly turned my back on the Duke's group and strode away. Behind me, I heard Flavia spit on the floor at their feet, before her heavy, angry tread began to follow me. She paused, though, turning back for just a moment.

"You better hope he finds you before I do, fat man," Flavia growled. "Because that was my niece you just slandered, and I swear I'll geld you with my bare hands."

With that, she turned and caught up to me, and I had to try very hard not to grin at the mental image that her statement had given me.

Sensing the drama was at its end, excited conversations began to spread like wildfire through the atrium, and I had to run a hand down my face a few times before I'd finally calmed enough to take in my surroundings. I'd stopped near a small alcove, Flavia, Chrom, Maribelle and my Honor Guard all still surrounding me. Which meant…

I glanced over my shoulder, grinning a little as I found Su'ko at my back, glaring out at the room over my shoulder.

"Well, that could have gone better," Maribelle sighed.

"It went about as well as I expected," I sighed. "We were never going to make any new allies here today anyway; the battle lines were drawn months ago. At least people will be talking about my freak-out and not Chrom's."

"You cannot have planned that," Maribelle huffed.

"No, but that won't stop me from taking advantage," I groaned. "Let me have this."

"I am impressed that it took four of us to hold you back," Flavia grinned, slapping me on the back. "You even managed another couple steps, too. You're wasted on this poncey noble life. No offense, Chrom."

Chrom sighed, rubbing at his temples with his eyes closed.

"Oh, no, I agree with you," he said without opening his eyes. "If Ben weren't so damned good at his job I would have sent him to Regna Ferox as ambassador months ago."

This earned a chuckle from a few of the others as this time I was the one to sigh.

"Chrom, any dingus could train your army and spend your money," I shrugged. "I just had the spare time."

"I'm talking about Baham," the Exalt said, finally looking up.

"Uh, Helman's still running the place though," I reminded him.

"And following all your orders," Maribelle cut in. "The public housing creating all the jobs? The use of skilled refugees in your workforce? The clearing of new farmland from the floodplains? Do you not... truly, do you not know how prosperous your own realm is?"

The only response she got was a blank stare from me.

The young noblewoman groaned and shook her head, her curls swaying hypnotically with the motion.

"Okay, let's focus on the matter at hand," I said, running a hand down my face. "I'm sure Beorhito will bring up my policies later in minute detail, anyway."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Chrom smirked. "Frankly, they make him look bad."

"Great, okay, awesome," I said, running both hands down my face now. "Questions: Archbishop? Marth's Battle Standard? Explain."

"If you actually attended mass like you were supposed to, you would know more about Ylisse's religious practices," Frederick rumbled disapprovingly.

"Not now, Frederick," Chrom sighed. "Archbishop Ottokar is the nominal leader of Ylisse's Naganite faith, and the head of the papal organization within."

"So, he's the prick that won't send me any healers to train with the army?" I muttered.

"Do not let anyone else hear you talk about him like that," Chrom hissed. "He's a very well-respected and loved figure of the Ylissean community."

"Ugh. Joy," I groaned. "And the fancy flag?"

"That is actually King Marth's battle standard," Chrom said flatly.

"Bullshit," I scoffed. "There's no way that cloth would last three-thousand years, let alone look that good afterwards."

"It was blessed by the Divine Dragon herself," Maribelle explained. "It is said to be able to inspire men during even the darkest of hours."

"So how did Burrito get it?" I asked.

"Anyone of royal lineage may petition the Naganite Church for its use," Maribelle went on. "Usually, they are far more… selective about how they display it. The Archbishop must really not like you."

"Wait," I said, turning to Chrom. "If you have to be royalty, how did Burrito get it? Oh fuck, don't tell me…"

"Yes, to my great shame, Duke Beorhito and I are distantly related," Chrom sighed. "And yes, he is in line for the title of Exalt. I believe he was, ah…"

"Ninth in line, Exalt Chrom," Frederick supplied helpfully.

"I am in awe," I said blankly. "I am awestruck."

"Oh, come now," Chrom said uncomfortably. "All nobles are related somehow. Even Sumia and I are second cousins."

My jaw dropped, but before I could exclaim my discomfort at this new revelation, I was fortunately interrupted by Vaike sauntering up to the little group we'd assembled. The big man had actually squeezed himself into a Royal Guard's uniform that looked at least three sizes too small for him, ostensibly to show off his muscles, and he pointedly ignored me as he strode up to Chrom.

"They're ready to start, Captain," Vaike said, grinning.

"I keep telling you, Vaike," Chrom chuckled, shaking his head. "You're the Captain of the Shepherds now."

The Exalt's good cheer evaporated, though, as he turned back to us.

"I shall join my father," Maribelle said. "Gentlemen, Khan Flavia, I will see you inside."

"Flavia, I'd like to make a statement about our alliance by having you enter with Sumia and I," Chrom said. "If you would be so kind?"

"Sure thing, kid," the older woman sighed, slapping me on the back again. "This politics crap is exhausting, eh bro?"

"You're telling me," I muttered.

"Can we leave you alone unattended?" Maribelle deadpanned at me.

"Maybe," I shrugged.

"Do I need to take your knives away," the blonde sighed.

"… probably."

"You are meant to be an adult, Ben," Maribelle frowned.

"I am an adult", I responded as I blew her a raspberry.

This got a chuckle from the Exalt and the Khan as the trio left, Maribelle rolling her eyes, but as Frederick turned to follow I caught a glimpse of Vaike moving away out of the corner of my eye, and a thought occurred.

"Frederick, a word please?" I asked quickly.

"What?" the big knight sighed, turning to glance over his shoulder.

I glanced up, too, making sure Vaike had stopped as well. Sure enough, the blonde man was making a show of adjusting his uniform only a few steps away.

"I have a question," I said to Frederick. "It'll be quick, I promise."

"Get on with it," he huffed.

"If a man were to strike a superior officer, what would the punishment be in Ylisse's existing military structure?" I asked.

Frederick sighed again, clearly resisting the urge to tell me to just fuck off.

"He would probably be flogged at the very least," the Knight explained. "Depending on how much the officer outranked the offender."

"So, if a commoner struck a Duke…" I prompted.

"Drawn and quartered," Frederick snapped. "Are we done now? I have work to do."

"Yup, thanks Fredward," I nodded, smiling cheerily.

The Knight spun on his heel without another word, stalking off in Chrom's wake to no doubt make sure the young Exalt didn't cause any more trouble.

I glanced back over to Vaike, who was openly glaring at me now.

"You gonna blackmail me?" he hissed.

"Fuck no," I scoffed quietly, grinning. "I just wanted to ask how it felt to get schooled, 'Teach'?"

Then it was my turn to spin on my heel and stalk off, my retinue of guards and one ninja following in my wake as we made for the refreshment tables, leaving a fuming Vaike behind.

---

I found Gaila at the food tables with a plate in one hand and an expensive-looking goblet of wine in the other. Fortunately, it looked like she had managed to keep from getting any on her face or clothes, defying the old pirate stereotype of being unkempt. She spotted me as I approached, and the large peacock feather tucked into her hatband almost brushed my nose as she turned.

"Oh, heya Boss," the former pirate greeted around a mouthful of pastry. "That was one hell of a show you put on back there."

"Yes, and fuck you very much for helping," I snapped. "Where the hell were you?"

"Staying out of the way," she shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of wine to wash her pastry down. "You pay me for paperwork, not fighting."

I opened my mouth to respond, only to shut it a moment later.

"Well, you've got me there," I sighed instead.

"Besides," she went on, stuffing another mini-danish in her mouth. "I can still fight, but I ain't the brawler I used to be. No depth perception and all that."

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed.

I glanced over at the table of refreshments, eyes narrowing as I inspected the massed goblets of drink. I glanced up as a messenger approached, the young man being stopped by Erutreya. I spotted Egred's livery embroidered on the man's chest, though, and waved him through. He sighed with obvious relief as he approached me, straightening and holding out an envelope.

"This is from Duke Themis, with regards, Your Grace," the man said with a bow.

I accepted the envelope with a quirked brow. It was unsealed, and a single note was scrawled on the front.

This is my revenge. Ask Maribelle. – Egred.

This was a little weird, but it was his handwriting and Themis' wax seal on the back, so…

"Uh… okay? Thank you?" I said, unsure what the hell was going on.

The messenger bowed again, before backing away three steps, and finally turning and hurrying off.

I sighed, turning the envelope over in my hands a few times, before glancing at the table again.

"Any of these non-alcoholic?" I asked sullenly.

I jumped a little as a robed figure appeared at my side, ducking away to avoid the edge of their wide-brimmed hat.

"I believe these ones on the left are crushed grapes, rather than wine," Miriel said brightly, pointing.

"Sure," I said. "Thanks. Nice to see you again, Miriel."

I snagged a gilded goblet probably worth more than my old car was, turning back to face the eccentric mage, stuffing the envelope into my pocket without a second thought. I took a small sip of the juice before speaking again, before sighing, satisfied it was clean.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, too, Duke Ben," she said with a wide smile. "I have missed our discussions on philosophy and science."

"Sorry," I said, sipping from my goblet. "Been busy."

As I spoke, I glanced over at Erutreya with a frown and motioned towards Miriel with my eyes, but the blonde soldier just shrugged a little, mouthing you know her while Miriel's back was turned, the mage helping herself to a goblet of the same kind of juice I had.

Not that I had a problem with Miriel, of course; I had rather missed our conversations, myself. I was just expecting a little warning from my honor guard after the scene Chrom and I had caused earlier.

"What's on your mind?" I asked her instead.

"I am curious as to where these grapes were harvested from," Miriel said brightly. "Their tartness suggests they were grown in one of the southern wineries, yet knowing the Exalt and his ties to Midland, one would assume he would have had his refreshments sourced there."

"Maybe it was just a bad crop," I shrugged. "Nature is weird like that sometimes. Probably explains why they were used for juice and not wine. Juice is easier to sweeten with sugar."

"Ah, excellent theory!" Miriel said, smiling happily. "This is why I missed you, my friend."

"So, did you just come over to talk to me about the floral growth patterns in Ylisse's southern climes, or was there something else?" I asked with a grin, using as many big words as I could for Miriel's benefit. "Either way, I'm glad for the distraction."

"Oh, I see," Gaila huffed. "I'm just here as chopped liver, then? Fine, I'll leave you two smart people to blather, go get some writing supplies for notes and shit. Have fun."

The former pirate drained the last of her goblet in one go before setting the empty cup back on the table, grabbing a couple more pastries to go before loping off. Miriel and I watched her for a moment as she disappeared into the thinning crowd.

"She is… interesting," Miriel said slowly.

"Former pirate, you get used to her," I said. "She's good at paperwork."

Miriel nodded before perking up and clapping her hands together, fairly whirling to face me again.

I was kind of surprised her hat didn't fly off.

"Ah, yes, the reason I wished to converse with you," she said excitedly. "I wish to join your militaristic endeavors."

This, admittedly, surprised me. Of all the Shepherds, Miriel was one of the last I had expected to want to sign up with the army.

"Uh… okay?" I said slowly. "I thought you were attached to the Shepherds, though?"

Miriel's sunny expression darkened beneath the brim of her hat, the mage frowning behind her glasses now.

"Were things that bad up north?" I sighed. "I figured Vaike would be competent enough to at least hide behind my soldiers…"

"This is for personal reasons, I assure you," Miriel stated. "Vaike performed admirably for the initial assault and subsequent siege of Port Ferox being his first military engagement. However, I find that I can no longer tolerate his behavior on a personal level."

"Really?" I asked, caught surprised for the second time now. "I thought you two were, ya know…"

I gesticulated randomly in the air with my hands as I trailed off, and Miriel just looked at me blankly. I realized she didn't understand my weak attempts at tact, and dropped my hands.

"Sex," I sighed.

"Ah, yes," Miriel nodded. "Vaike and I were engaged in a carnal relationship, yes. However, I find his behavior unacceptable. He is possessive and overly-protective of me, going so far as to order 'his girl' to remain in reserve during the most recent assault."

"Despite the fact that you're one of only two mages left in the Shepherds," I sighed. "Gotcha. That was dumb from a tactical perspective, yeah."

"And frustrating," Miriel nodded. "I will not be treated as an object."

"So, rather than talk it out, you want to just… what, join up with my lot?" I prompted.

"I attempted to raise the issue with Vaike, as my commanding officer and not my paramour," Miriel sighed.

"That's a nice way of saying 'fuck-buddy'," I snickered.

Miriel cleared her throat and blushed a little before continuing.

"He deflected with gratuitous amounts of machismo and grandstanding, harping on about how he would protect me from harm, and keep me safe. I am not made of porcelain. Despite my demeanor, I am quite patriotic. I wish to fight to defend my homeland."

"I mean, I won't look an incredibly gifted, magical gift-horse in the mouth," I shrugged.

Miriel blushed even deeper at my back-handed compliment.

"Are you sure, though?" I pressed. "This will leave the Shepherds dangerously undermanned."

"The Shepherds were undermanned to begin with," Miriel stated bluntly. "There was a bare handful of us to join the assault, and we were relegated to rearguard by Captain Robin because of it. I have already sent a report to Exalt Chrom, suggesting he fill out the ranks of the group with members of the Royal Guard and Mage's College to keep it viable as a fighting force, if only for morale purposes."

I stroked my beard, a thought occurring.

"Maybe it could use a few trained soldiers and scouts, too," I said thoughtfully. "Could be a good way to display that the army is still under Chrom's control, not mine. Thank you, Miriel. You always give me the best ideas."

"Then you will allow me to accompany your forces?" she asked hopefully.

I glanced over at Erutreya again, the soldier quirking her brows questioningly.

"Captain," I said. "Front and center."

Erutreya stepped back from the small semi-circle of guards around us, the rest of the squad seamlessly moving to cover the gap she had left. I smiled a little at their economy of movement. Clearly, the Captain had drilled them hard on Honor Guard duties.

"I'm assuming you heard all of that?" I asked her.

"Kind of hard not to from three feet away," Erutreya smirked.

The soldier turned to Miriel, giving her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about your boyfriend," she said. "Guys can be the absolute shits sometimes."

"Ah, yes, thank you," Miriel stammered.

"I'm standing right here," I deadpanned.

"Present company excepted, of course, milord," Erutreya said, her voice tinged with laughter.

I sighed, shaking my head.

"Whatever," I said. "This is Miriel. We served together in the Shepherds. Miriel, this is Erutreya, Captain of the Royal Ylissean First, and leader of… Third Platoon?"

"Fourth, milord," Erutreya grinned.

"Fourth platoon, she's leader of fourth platoon," I groaned. "Whatever. Captain, do you think you could do with a resident mage for your Platoon?"

"Absolutely, sir," Erutreya nodded. "Especially if she wants to learn healing magic."

"I am… more of an elementalist," Miriel said slowly.

"We're running kind of low on healers at the moment," I explained with a small frown. "Clearly Pope Penis-Hat doesn't like me."

"He's the Archbishop," Erutreya corrected with a frown. "And seriously, milord, do as the Exalt bade and don't blaspheme about him in public."

"Everyone already hates me, what more could he do?" I grunted, before shaking my head. "Whatever. Miriel, meet Erutreya at the army barracks on the outskirts of the city first thing in the morning. Bring whatever gear you'll need for a long campaign."

"Very well," the mage nodded. "You will not regret this. Captain, I greatly look forward to our future working relationship."

"Uh… yeah, right," Erutreya nodded uncertainly.

"And may I say, Ben, that I also greatly approve of your confidence," Miriel went on. "You speak as if you have already convinced the Lords to declare war."

"One way or another, war is coming," I sighed. "Here or on Valentia, we just have to be ready either way. I'd rather have the initiative, though."

"Indeed," Miriel nodded. "I eagerly await the chance to hear you speak to the House of Commons later, and will prepare my belongings for transport this evening. I bid you both good day."

With that, the mage bustled off, leaving Erutreya and I standing there.

"Well… at least I got another support member," Erutreya shrugged.

I couldn't help but scoff.

"I'd mentally prepare yourself," I warned. "And set about six soldiers aside for baggage duty. If she can, she'll bring the entirety of the Royal Library with her."

Erutreya rolled her eyes, turning back to her Honor Guard duties.

"Ugh. Mages," the Captain muttered as she resumed her position in the line.

I smirked, turning back to the table to look for the little pastries that Gaila had been eating before, when I felt something shift in my pocket. I was a little concerned at how fast I'd forgotten about the envelope, especially because Egred had had it delivered to me. I inspected the envelope, turning it over in my hands a few times, then glanced up to see Su'ko looking intently at the slip of paper, too.

"'My revenge', huh?" I muttered.

With a smirk, I held the envelope out to Su'ko.

"What do you think? Wanna check to make sure it's not a bomb or something?" I jokingly asked her.

Su'ko's head snapped up, eyes wide, and she only hesitated for a moment before trying to snatch the letter from my hand. I sighed and pulled it back, holding it above my head.

"I was joking, you nut," I sighed, shaking my head.

Still, though, she looked on intently as I used a finger to break the glob of wax that sealed the back. I had to blink a few times when I saw what was written on the actual paper, though.

Rather than Egred's quick, hard shorthand, this was elegant and flowing script, lightly touched to the paper. If I had to hazard a guess, the handwriting was from a woman, although I'm sure that any number of scribes in Ylisse could have handwriting this nice. Still, though, the quality of the paper spoke of wealth, and…

And then I actually started reading it.

"Wait. What the actual fuck…"

For he wielded blades black as the night,

His figure so valiant yet a fearsome sight.

They sought his death but he yet lives,

Upon his enemies a terrible fate he gives?

Scorn of the Nobles, hero to the masses

His army a mix of all the classes…

And on it went.

At the top of the page, written in delicate hand, was the title: The Valliant Duke Baham.

It was a fucking poem about me. An uncomfortably flattering poem.

"Ohhhhhh I hope this isn't Egred's handwriting…" I groaned, running my free hand down my face.

Su'ko looked up at me from where she was leaning over my arm to read, too, her brows slightly quirked.

"I swear if you start composing poems about me, too, I'll fire you. Out of one of the cannons," I growled.

Su'ko's breath hitched slightly and her lips quivered, and I could just tell this was going to come back to bite me in the ass…

"Ben, ah, there you are. We had a few questions about what is that and GODS ABOVE WHERE DID YOU GET THAT!?"

Maribelle approached, slipping past Erutreya's little cordon with barely a glance at the soldiers. As she got closer her voice rose in pitch and volume, until she was pretty much standing right under my nose and screeching like a wounded seagull.

Ugh. Gaila's 'salty pirate' persona was starting to rub off on me.

I held the poem up and back, out of her reach. The young noblewoman did her best to reach around me, almost flailing as I kept the poem from her.

"Give it to me!"

"No."

"You will give me that letter!"

"Why? Is it yours?"

"Yes! No! Give it to me!"

"No."

Maribelle tried to stomp down on my foot, only I'd seen the move coming and drawn it back. It meant giving ground, but after the clusterfuck that Burrito's entrance had caused, this was an amusing diversion.

Fortunately, most of the nobility had gone ahead already to find their seats, so nobody except servants were seeing the scene Maribelle was causing.

There were tears gathering in the corners of her eyes now, and with a sigh I held the page out to her.

"Fine, here, save your crocodile tears," I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't know who wrote it, but they did a decent job of it."

Maribelle snatched the page back, holding it to her chest like a golden relic.

"Really?" she asked meekly.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "It follows a simple structure, but that isn't a bad thing. Its rhyming pattern is consistent, and the handwriting is immaculate. Whoever wrote it did a good job."

Maribelle blushed bright red at my critique, before clearing her throat and glaring down at the offending paper. She turned it over, and, given the keening sound she made, I thought she was going to explode.

"Father," she hissed.

"Uh…" I managed.

Her furious gaze snapped back up to me, eyes wide and wild.

"Recite me a poem," she growled.

"Uh, Su'ko…" I muttered, voice hitching a little as I backed up.

"You saw one of mine, you will recite me one of yours," Maribelle insisted, advancing on me.

"One, I was trying to give you an out, but okay, throw that back in my face," I deadpanned. "Two, anything I've written has been published. I don't usually do poetry."

I'd continued backing up while I'd spoken, Maribelle remaining right in my face the entire time. Her twin ringlets were quivering along with her rage in a way that, under different circumstances, I might have found greatly amusing.

I felt the unyielding edge of the refreshment table impact on the top of my ass, and suddenly I had nowhere else to go.

Right now, I felt like a mouse looking up at a cat.

"Recite. Me. A. Poem."

Maribelle punctuated each word with a furious finger-jab to my solar plexus, and I relented.

"Okay, jeez, fine! Just get the fuck out of my face!" I sighed.

Maribelle stepped back, crossing her arms and tapping a foot impatiently. She was still blushing, even as she continued to glare at me.

"Is it okay if I just tell you one from my homeland?" I asked, rubbing at my chest.

"Fine!" Maribelle hissed.

I wracked my brain for a moment, suddenly put on the spot.

"Well!?" she demanded.

"Ugh. Only one comes to mind, and I can only remember it as a song," I groaned.

"So, start singing," Maribelle demanded, eyes narrowing.

"You do remember that I technically outrank you, right?" I deadpanned.

Her only response was to narrow her eyes more, her perfect brows drawing down into a glare.

"You're lucky I like you," I muttered.

I shook my head before taking a deep breath, drawing myself up to my full height, and…

"Far over the misty mountains cold,

Through dungeons deep,

And caverns old…"

… I began to recite Tolkien's Misty Mountains poem from The Hobbit in a slow, dirge-like singing voice, doing my best not to shudder at the fact that I had an audience. Fortunately, it was a fairly short piece, and unaccompanied by music it was even shorter.

I couldn't stand my singing voice. The only person I ever sang to, and even then only when we were alone, was baby-Noire when she couldn't sleep.

As I finished Maribelle looked satisfied, and we both glanced up at the sound of applause.

"Naga you vindictive bitch, I'm begging here, stop torturing and just strike me down," I muttered under my breath, blushing now myself.

My guts fell into my boots as a grinning Chrom and beaming Flavia approached, passing through Erutreya's squad, who were all looking back with curious expressions themselves, too.

"I just want you to know, I will never forgive you for this," I said, glowering down at Maribelle.

"That was unexpected, but actually fairly good," Chrom said.

"I knew you would be a perfect addition to the clan," Flavia said earnestly. "We haven't even explained it to you yet, and here you are, singing your heart out. That was beautiful, little bro."

"Explain what?" I moaned.

"That we worship Naga as the Divine Songstress," Flavia laughed. "All Clans in Regna Ferox worship different aspects of The Divine Dragon. I think the Oaf's clan worship her as the Great Poet, or something, for example. Or the Sacred Accountant. I think. One of those, anyway."

"Woo," I said, with absolutely no enthusiasm. "Let's put a pin in that one. What did you two come back for, anyway?"

"Ah, right," Chrom chuckled. "We wanted to ask how we were all going to enter the meeting hall."

"Oh my god, does that really matter?" I asked, throwing my head back to sigh. "Never mind. Of course it fucking does."

"Maribelle has to go in first and take her seat to one side, before the proceedings start," Chrom explained. "Flavia is going to enter with me, as my honored guest, and to present a united front. Did you want to join us?"

An affirmative answer was on the tip of my tongue, but I held back.

"No," I said slowly as the thoughts formed in my head. "No, you two go ahead first. I want there to be a united front, yeah, but I don't want to end up creating an atmosphere of 'us verses them' against the no-war group. If that makes sense."

Chrom and Flavia exchanged a glance, and even Maribelle eyed me with an odd expression.

"That's a fine idea," Chrom nodded after a moment. "As much as you profess to hate it, you really do have a knack for politics, you know."

"Don't start," I groaned, running my hand down my face. "This shit is exhausting."

"See you inside, bro," Flavia said with a wink.

She and Chrom left then, leaving Maribelle and I alone in an awkward silence.

It was into this heavy atmosphere that Gaila blundered, fairly bristling with pen and parchment. She had a pen tucked behind her ear, pencils sticking out of her various pockets, rolls and sheafs of parchment sticking out of other pockets, and another pen even tucked next to the feather in her hatband.

"Okay, I'm ready," she said, bouncing to a stop next to me. "We good to go? Oh, heya, drills. What's that ya got there? Treasure map?"

"NEVER YOU MIND!" Maribelle exploded, before storming off.

"What the fuck?" Gaila asked, looking at me with a perplexed expression.

"Long story, I'll tell you later," I groaned.

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye had me shooting out my hand, grabbing Su'ko by the arm and dragging her close enough that when I bent down we were nose-to-nose. The ninja girl gave a surprised squeak as she stumbled on her fancy shoes, which was probably the only reason I'd caught her in the first place.

"Tell me why I shouldn't fire you," I said evenly.

"I do not wish to interfere with your private life, only keep you safe," she said, a little too quickly.

I growled, releasing her.

"You're lucky I like you, too," I said with a glare.

---

I took a deep breath, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet a few times as I shook out my hands. In front of me were a set of closed doors, and I could hear the gentle susurrus of muted conversation on the other side.

The other side where I had to give a speech.

Or… a 'debate' to be more accurate.

That could possibly decide the fates of millions of people…

I groaned, bobbing up and down a few more times.

"What are you doing?"

I spun, finding Lucina looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Jesus, woman, you scared the hell outta me," I sighed, looking back to the doors.

"Well?" She asked.

"I'm nervous, okay?" I admitted. "I… have stage-fright."

Lucina actually barked out a laugh, and I turned back to her with a frown.

"You? You have stage fright?" she asked incredulously. "You've never hesitated to say anything as long as I've known you."

"Well, this is important," I snapped. "What are you doing here, anyway? I figured you'd be up in the galleries, watching over your father like a creepy stalkerish hawk."

Lucina gave a sigh, crossing her arms and sinking to a hip.

"It bothers me that I'm beginning to understand more and more of your drivel so easily," she groaned, before shaking her head. "I will be heading up there in a moment, but I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm about to have a panic attack, but otherwise I'm fine," I deadpanned, looking back to the doors. "How are you?"

I jumped a little as Lucina put a hand on my shoulder and gently spun me back around.

Honestly, I was expecting some kind of pep-talk, about how I had done this once before in her timeline or some other such crap.

Instead, she leaned in and kissed me.

My jaw dropped, and Lucina took the initiative, slipping her tongue into my mouth. It was only the barest, briefest of contact, but it sent an arc of electricity right up my spine and into my brain.

And then she was skipping back, blushing to her roots and smiling coquettishly.

"Are you sufficiently distracted now?" she asked.

"Bwuh… guh… muh…" I managed eloquently.

"Oh great, now he's lost the ability to speak. That's the opposite of what we needed."

Lucina and I both spun to see Gaila emerge from a side passage, grinning like a bastard.

"I… I… I will see you afterwards! Good luck!" Lucina all but screeched, racing out of the small antechamber.

Gaila laughed, coming over and waving her hand in front of my face a few times.

"Why does she keep doing that?" I muttered.

I gently brushed the pads of my fingers across my lips, trying to savor the sensation of hers against them.

"Ooh, you two got it bad," Gaila laughed. "C'mon, boss, get yer head in the game. It's showtime."

---

"Presenting his lordship, Duke Ben of Baham, General of the Ylissean Royal Army and Hero of Hagra Field!"

I stopped and sighed the moment I stepped into the meeting room, glaring over at Gaila.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked.

"Yes?" she said.

"Shouted right in my ear?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Fortunately, Chrom headed off any further 'banter' between myself and my assistant, rising from his seat at the head of the table. Egred and Flavia both leapt to their feet, too, as did Duke Midland, but Beorhito and his four cronies took their sweet time rising to officially greet me.

Apparently, they did this every time one of the Dukes entered, as a sign of respect.

Judging from the look on Beorhito's fat face, it was very grudgingly done.

"Welcome, Duke Baham," Chrom intoned, his voice clear and formal.

"Your Grace," I said, with a stiff bow. "Fellow Dukes. I bid you all greetings."

"Better late than never, I suppose," Beorhito grumbled.

I let the jab go as I moved to take my seat at the end of the table, almost opposite from Chrom. Baham was, for all my recent strides forward in the region, still something of a border province. Beorhito and Egred had the seats closest to Chrom, not including Flavia who shared the head of the table with the Exalt. Directly across from me, Diase gave me a small smile, which I returned with a nod.

Beorhito smirked down the table at me, and I impassively looked back as Gaila took up position at my shoulder.

Each Duke had an aide hovering nearby to take notes or pass on requisite information to a topic, but the susurrus of hushed voices from the edges of the room betrayed the presence of many others in the galleries above.

I absently wondered where Su'ko was lurking, but put it from my mind.

"Duke Baham, always a pleasure," Diase declared. "I missed you when you left Baham, or I would have travelled with you."

"Sorry, it was quite spur of the moment," I said.

"Yes, I do hear tell that you enjoy ruling that way," one of Beorhito's nameless cronies remarked.

Seriously. I hadn't even learned their names, they were so irrelevant to me.

"We need to be quick to react to threats to the kingdom," Egred pointed out. "Or to the changing times."

"But acting too hastily can also be an impediment, yes?" another of the Beorhito fan-club argued.

"Nothing stays the same," Duke Midland sighed. "Life goes on."

"And time continues its eternal march," Beorhito said, glancing at Chrom.

"I guess we'll skip the foreplay, then," I muttered.

Fortunately, the table was gigantic, so Duke No-name sitting next to me didn't hear me, but Gaila did give a barely audible snicker. Funnily, I caught Diase across from me coughing lightly to hide a grin of her own.

"I hereby call this meeting of the House of Lords of the Ylissean Parliament to order," Chrom declared. "Due to the recentness of the previous sitting of the House of Lords, we can keep this brief. Regna Ferox, whom we still share a military treaty with, have been invaded by Valm. We meet to discuss this matter, and to hopefully find a solution that benefits both nations. To that end, I have invited Khan Regnant Flavia to join this meeting."

Flavia nodded gravely.

"Let the record state that I, Duke Beorhito, object to this action," Burrito declared before Chrom could continue. "The inclusion of a foreign power to this Parliament through the act of Duke Baham's adoption was bad enough, but I must object to the presence of the very leader of that power being here."

"Noted," Chrom said judiciously. "Duke Baham?"

I blinked a few times, before realizing I was actually expected to defend myself.

"I was unaware my personal life effected the opposite end of the country so much," I deadpanned. "However, I can assure you that my loyalties lay with Ylisse and its Exalt."

"Despite the size of the standing army you have built in the last few years?" Burrito pressed.

"An army built for the Exalt and Ylisse," I replied testily. "Didn't we cover this during the last meeting? Let the record show that I'm too tired for this shit."

A chorus of gasps and laughter echoed around the room, Beorhito immediately going bright red with rage as his coterie gaped, pale as though they were about to faint. Egred was desperately trying to keep a straight face, so much so that his moustache was twitching, and Sumia's father had thrown his head back to stare at the ceiling, as if he knew what me baiting Burrito would entail. Diase just shook her head and smiled indulgently across from me, like a mother at a particularly unruly child, and at the head of the table Chrom put his face in his hand.

Flavia just cackled, leaning back in her chair.

"We are here to discuss the war that is brewing on our doorstep," I went on, running a hand down my face. "Not to quibble about personal matters, Duke Beorhito. If you want to drag my name through the mud, then please, call a separate Parliamentary session at a later date."

"Enough," Chrom sighed.

"Silence!" Frederick boomed to the people in the cheap seats.

"Duke Baham, you forget yourself," Frederick added with a customary glare.

"You see?" Beorhito thundered. "He makes a mockery not only of me, but of our entire government! In the presence of our Exalt and our Queen, no less!"

I sat up a little straighter, looking around for Sumia, then. I spotted her in the gallery next to Lissa, both women trying in vain to hide their smirks behind their fancy lace fans. I gave them a little wave, which Lissa returned.

"Oh, come off it, Beorhito," Duke Midland sighed. "For once can we have one of these emergency sessions be short?"

"Forgive me for taking my duty seriously!" Beorhito grumbled.

"I sincerely doubt that," I said out of the corner of my mouth.

This earned another snicker from Gaila, even as her pencil continued to scratch against her board, and Diase's perfectly shaped brows quivered as she tried desperately not to do the same.

Clearly, there was no love lost between her and the father of her late and not-at-all-lamented son in law.

"I propose we declare war in support of our allies in Regna Ferox," Chrom said, cutting off any further argument.

"With what?" one of Burrito's cronies snapped. "An army of ill-trained peasants built around a core of rag-tag mercenaries and knights?"

"Uh, hello?" I said, putting up my hand. "Royal army? Three years of harsh training? Ringing any bells?"

"As one who has seen Duke Baham's work in person, I can vouch for their skill," Diase chimed in.

"Yes, their 'work' assaulting our own kingdom," another of Burrito's ilk grunted. "Your own territory, no less, Diase."

"That's Governess Diase," she snapped. "I still sit on this council, and I will be shown the proper respect."

"Seconded," I added with a smirk.

"I'd say that's motion carried," Gaila muttered to me.

"I can attest to the worth of the young Duke's forces as well," Egred declared, surprising me. "His new weapons, these 'cannons', hold much capacity for destruction. I have no doubt they would turn the tide in our favor."

"You would say that," Burrito scoffed. "Any chance to relive the old 'glory days', right, Egred?"

"At least some of us actually got off our arses when our Exalt called on us!" Egred shouted, slamming his hands on the table and rising to his feet.

"Seconded," I added again.

This seemed to take the heat out of the argument brewing, as more laughter rained from above. Burrito's face darkened as he directed a withering glare my way, and Egred scoffed a small laugh as he flopped back into his own chair.

"You make a mockery of this proceeding," Burrito growled.

"No, I make a mockery out of all this off-topic banter from you specifically," I said, rolling my eyes. "Our Exalt just declared his intention to, uh, declare war. I would like to… second his motion."

I grinned as I finished, the galleries ringing with more stifled laughs.

"Silence!" Frederick bellowed again.

"I am in favor," Duke Midland said in the intervening pause. "If for no other reason than to repay our debt to Regna Ferox for their assistance in the most recent war in Plegia. One, I will remind this august council, had nothing to do with them."

"Thank you, Duke Midland," Flavia nodded. "It's nice to see that not all of the Ylissean nobility has forgotten their honor."

"I'm sitting right here!" I called up the table.

This got even more laughs from above, and Diase looked like she was pinching her leg under the table now to maintain her decorum. Frederick looked like he was about to explode, and Gaila looked like she was just waiting for him to, so she could lay another verbal smackdown on him-

"Enough!" Chrom thundered, rising to his feet now. "I will not have this council turned into a circus, either by blatant attempts at provoking opposing parties or by disrespectful mockery! As the Exalt, I would have your answers! Do we go to war? I, as sovereign and Duke of Ylisstol, vote aye."

"I vote aye," Midland put in immediately.

"Nay," Burrito spat.

There were four more 'nays' from Beorhito's faction, then Diase shrugged.

"I vote aye," she declared.

"You have been very quiet, Duke Themis," one of Burrito's cronies practically purred. "I would have thought you would have made your position clear by now."

Frankly, I was surprised he hadn't abstained by now, myself. I already knew that Egred couldn't support me, and for him to do so would be political suicide, which would mean that we would be forced to rely on a majority in the House of Commons to-

"I vote aye," Egred said. "On the condition that Duke Baham lead any Themisian soldiery in my place."

Silence met this pronouncement, before I finally managed to get my jaw working again.

"What?" I deadpanned.

"You heard me, boy," Egred scoffed. "I'll support this war effort, but my campaigning days are behind me."

"At last, something we can agree on," Beorhito muttered, just loud enough for me to know he wanted us all to hear it.

"Then we can agree that this council is split down the middle?" Duke Midland asked hopefully. "With no debate that will see us stuck in here for the next six hours? Again?"

"Yes please," Diase sighed.

"Seconded," I added.

"Indeed," Beorhito ground out.

"Very well," Chrom nodded. "Then I declare that, as we have reached no consensus, the matter will be put to the House of Commons after a brief recess of thirty minutes. I will see you, ladies and gentlemen, on the floor of the House of Commons."

Despite this being the best possible outcome I knew we could have hoped for, I still felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Something told me this would be a long day.

---

I sighed, running my hands over my head and face, secreted away in a dark corner of the stateroom we had all arrived in before the meeting.

Everyone else had run off to private rooms to confer, or to argue, or even just to catch up with old friends now that they considered the important stuff over.

I sat alone in the shadows, resting on the decorative ledge between two carved pillars, content to brood in peace.

Or, well, as alone as one can get with a ninja, a pirate, and a squad of soldiers trailing him constantly, anyway.

"You know, you shouldn't be so uptight about all this," Gaila said, sitting next to me with her legs lazily outstretched.

I glanced over at her, unable to help but smirk as she popped the last bite of another of the little pastries she had become so enamored with into her mouth. The first thing she had done when we had come back out here was beeline for where the servants were still clearing away the snacks, and save a plate from them.

On a whim, I reached over and snagged one myself.

"Oy," she said, her tone one of warning.

"Oh, shut up," I chuckled. "I pay you, remember?"

I popped the little treat into my mouth, pleasantly surprised by the way the sweetness of the flaky pastry complimented the tart berry jam.

"Those are actually pretty good," I commented.

"So go get your own," Gaila grumbled, scooting away from me.

"Weren't you just saying I needed to stop being so uptight?" I smirked.

"About the meeting, not my food," she huffed. "I don't know why you're so worried. People like you, you have half the dukes and stuff on side, and I know you can be just a silver-tongued as that smarmy bastard Yemuel when you want to be, so why worry?"

"Oh my god, could you imagine if he were here doing the arguing?" I laughed. "We'd already be halfway to Valm!"

"Yeah, but he'd make us all dress like him as 'uniform standards'," Gaila added, making a sour face.

"Ugh, why does everyone keep trying to make me wear a cravat?" I asked with a small grin.

"Maybe it's because you haven't got a chin?" Gaila shrugged.

"That's what the beard's there for," I huffed. "Maybe if I grow it long enough it can hide a cravat, and I can get these dandies off my back…"

"See? Now that's using your noodle!" Gaila said, slapping me on the back.

We sat in silence for a few moments, collectively staring into space and munching on expensive pastries, before Erutreya's cordon of soldiers began to shift nervously. The blonde captain glanced back, a worried frown on her face.

"Send them away, I'm trying to relax while I can," I told her before she could speak.

"But milord, it's…" she began to say.

"Oh, come now, Duke Baham, surely a little light conversation would take your mind off of your troubles."

I had to resist the urge to sigh as Archbishop Penis-Hat himself stepped into view, respectfully stopping at Erutreya's cordon. The slight old man smiled benevolently at the soldiers, as if they were misbehaving altar boys, rather than trained killers barring his path.

"Archbishop Ottokar," I said, my tone as even as I could make it. "To what do I owe this… unexpected pleasure?"

The old man chuckled.

"Perhaps you would indulge me, and we might converse in private? Without a wall of soldiers between us?"

"Erutreya, Gaila, give us some space," I sighed. "Go raid the leftover snacks or something."

The soldiers parted, and my assistant took the opportunity to dart between them, arrowing directly for the snack tables again. Ottokar chuckled good-naturedly at her, but for some reason the 'genial old priest' routine was already starting to rub me the wrong way.

"Apologies, Your Holiness," Erutreya said with a bowed head. "Please, proceed."

With that, the soldiers spun on their heels, sketched me a row of perfect salutes, and made themselves scarce.

I refused to send Su'ko away, aware that she was lurking in the shadows beside a decorative drapery not far away.

I doubted that the archbishop would try to assassinate me. It didn't appear that the frail part of his persona was an act, anyway. It was more to make sure that I didn't snap and kill him myself.

"Have a seat," I said.

I indicated to the ledge next to me that Gaila had just vacated, and the archbishop chuckled a little.

"I suppose that informal settings for these kinds of things are nice every once in a while," Ottokar said with a smile.

The old man let out a relieved breath as he sank to a seat, shifting around a little in his ostentatious robes to get comfortable.

"If this is about my faith, Archbishop, I'm afraid you're wasting your time," I warned him.

"Oh, no," he said, waving the comment away. "You were truthful when you said that you believed the Goddess Naga exists, yes?"

"Yes," I said slowly.

"And you venerate her in your own way, yes?" he pressed on.

"In my own way, yes," I nodded slowly.

I decided I'd just… leave out the part where 'in my own way' meant 'railing one of the holy Divine Dragons on a semi-regular basis until recently'.

"Then that is a good place to start," Ottokar nodded. "But I do find myself curious what your aversion to our faith is."

"Your organization, not your faith," I corrected him.

"Are they not the same?" Ottokar asked.

"By that logic, are our beliefs in the Divine not the same?" I shrugged.

"Ah, touché," Ottokar chuckled. "I knew you were not as simple as you would have the rest of us believe."

"The act was getting old," I admitted. "And I'm too tired to keep it up."

"Then, perhaps I will cut to the quick," Ottokar nodded. "I believe we do not have long before the House of Commons, anyway."

"By all means," I sighed, bracing myself.

"The church would be glad to accept you into the flock, if only you would send the heathens and those filthy subhumans from your lands," Ottokar said plainly.

"Not an option, Archbishop," I snorted. "They are my people and have every right to be here."

"You know, the correct way to address me is 'Your Holiness,' Duke Baham," Ottokar said, a small frown beginning to form on his face now.

"The majority of the refugees are Naga-worshiping, in their own way," I said, ignoring him. "And the Plegians I've welcomed into my territory are all to eager to throw off the oppression of the Grimleal. By your very own logic, they're just as faithful as you or I."

"Yes, it is a very simple thing to say that one has faith," Ottokar said. "But faith must be proved. Faith must be reinforced."

"You mean your coffers must be lined by donations," I said, shaking my head.

"That is a very bleak way of looking at the world, Duke Baham," Ottokar said, his speech taking on a tone of reproach. "And, besides, the… subhumans, they do not, in fact, worship Naga-"

"Did you find that out when you culled them?" I snapped, cutting him off. "By asking? Or by listening to them scream pleas to their gods as you butchered them!?"

"Now, Duke Baham, I will remind you-"

"I would rather burn all of Baham to the ground than send those people away. Arch. Bishop," I hissed, struggling to keep my voice down and rising to my feet. "Now, please excuse me. I have a war to prepare for."

I began to walk away, Su'ko stepping out of the shadows to follow. Her sudden appearance made the old man jump a little, and with a malicious grin I couldn't help but get one last parting shot in.

"Oh, and for future reference?" I added over my shoulder. "That Taguel was the best sex I've ever had."

Ottokar's jaw dropped, and he honestly looked like he was about to puke. Beside me, I could hear a soft exhalation that was Su'ko's equivalent to a sigh.

Eventually, Ottokar found his voice again.

"Blasphemy! Heresy!" the old man raged, leaping to his feet now. "You… you are not fit to rule even a farmstead in this nation! You are… you are base filth!"

"Correction, Archbishop. I'm base filth with peerage, and will be referred to properly," I said with a vicious grin, holding up the hand with Chrom's ring glinting in the lamplight.

"Now, Erutreya, Gaila, fall in," I called, shooting one last glare at the Archbishop. "It looks like we're saving Ylisse on our own."

"You will doom this nation!" Ottokar screamed, face red and spittle flying from his lips now.

I just flipped him off over my shoulder as I walked away, smirking at my little victory.

"Look at you, making friends wherever you go," Gaila deadpanned as we walked.

"Problem, henchman?" I asked.

"Not as such, boss," Gaila sighed. "Just kinda… disappointed you can't get along with the Church."

I stopped suddenly, bringing the whole group to a halt.

"The Church is a creation of man," I told her, my voice low. "Not of gods. What matters is here…"

I pointed to Gaila's head.

"… and here."

I said, pointing at Gaila's heart.

"A building and some stupid hats don't make someone holy," I went on, starting to walk again. "What we do is what matters. If Naga has a problem with that, then she's welcome to come down from on high and slap me upside my head with her holy book."

"That was… oddly intense," Gaila commented, falling in beside me.

"And it goes for all of you, too," I said over my shoulder to the soldiers of my honor guard.

A few looked uncomfortable, but the rest, including Erutreya, seemed to be considering my words, at least.

It was enough for now.

"Sir, I can understand not caring about pissing off the other Dukes," Erutreya said, her voice unusually hesitant. "But are you sure it's wise to alienate the Church?"

"They started it," I grumbled. "Besides, they already hate me. I'm not trading my dignity just to get some extra priests to help us."

"Especially after we all went through that first-aid training?" the captain chuckled.

I smirked back at her, glad to see I hadn't alienated her, too.

"We can argue about this later," I sighed. "Let me focus on one crisis at a time."

"Aye-aye, Boss," Gaila said, her voice oddly subdued.

---

The meeting room for the House of Commons was like a much larger version of the one we had just left. A vaulted ceiling housed tiers of seating like an amphitheater that descended to a central floor, containing a table set up almost identically to the one we had just left. The only difference in that regard was that now the end of the table opposite Chrom, and unfortunately right next to me, was now occupied by Archbishop Ottokar, Pope Penis-hat flanked by bishops and War Priests to his sides and back.

Oh, and the priest bearing Marth's battle standard now stood behind Duke Beorhito, and Chrom was making an effort to make sure everyone could see Falchion strapped to his side. The Exalt also had his own personal war-banner, held by a stoically frowning Frederick behind him, the flag all gold thread and navy blue. There were similar other banners around the room, and I had a mini panic attack, realizing I didn't have one, too.

"Milord! Milord, there you are! I was hoping to find you before- blast you, get out of my- ow, that's my foot, not- argh!"

I glanced over my shoulder, watching as a man disappeared into the crowd of busily hustling guards and admin staff around the central pit, visible now only by his trademark man-bun.

Jeremiah burst out of the crowd, the War Priests and the Duke's Guard from the man next to me tensing and reaching for weapons, before Erutreya and my guards parted to let him through.

"What's up, J-dizzle?" I asked, my voice fairly deadpan.

"You… ugh, I feel like I just ran your training course…" he muttered, hands on his knees.

Then the taller man straightened, his bearing military perfect, and presented me a wrapped green bundle. Then I realized he had a few poles resting on his shoulder that I'd initially taken for some kind of ceremonial spears, and…

"That the Boss' standard?" Gaila asked beside me. "Took ya long enough to get it here!"

"I don't have time for you right now, you salty tart," Jeremiah snapped. "Shut it."

Gaila blinked a few times, caught between looking pissed and impressed. Jeremiah sighed, clearing his throat before starting again.

"Duke Baham, Colonel Helman regrets that he could not present you with this in person, but you're a very hard man to pin down these days," the soldier intoned. "His words, not mine. This is Baham's war standard, and we would be honored if you would-"

"Oh, good timing, awesome," I sighed. "Well, set it up and hold it high."

Gaila's head snapped around to look at me, and Jeremiah fairly goggled.

"M-me?" he squeaked.

"I'm guessing it's some kind of big honor or something," I sighed, shaking my head. "Just do it this once, then we can find a more permanent banner-bearer. I swear, Helman's just as bad as Chrom…"

With that, I spun back to the table, confident that once he got over his shock, Jeremiah would follow my instructions. A thought occurred, though, and when I glanced back at him he was already sliding the poles together.

"And I thought I told you to stop wearing your hair like that," I sighed.

Gaila snorted a laugh, and I smirked as I looked back to the table.

Across from me, Kaelind looked resplendent in his crisp, beige uniform, his long hair neatly combed and perfectly straight as he stared dead ahead, bearing Fruford's own standard. In all honesty, he looked more like a General right now than I did.

Diase eyed Jeremiah for a moment, before giving me a slight smile and nod.

There was suddenly a loud thud as Frederick slammed the butt of Chrom's banner pole into the timber floor.

"Silence! Silence in the presence of the Exalt!" the big knight roared.

I rolled my eyes, but there was still a final mad rush as the last of the attendees found their seats, and descended into hushed whispers. Clearly, everyone else found Frederick more intimidating than I did.

Although, considering that the first thing I did when I met him was literally square up to a man at least three feet taller than me and wearing full plate armor with my bare hands, that probably said more about me…

Chrom rose, smiling beneficently to everyone, even the people up in the cheap seats.

"My fellow countrymen," the Exalt said, his voice clear and carrying. "It is my great regret that I must call this emergency meeting of the Ylissean Parliament to order. Before we start, however, I invite His Holiness Father Ottokar, Archbishop of the Ylissean Orthodox Naganite Church, to bless these proceedings with a prayer."

Ottokar rose slowly to his feet, smiling at the assembled Parliament patricianly.

"As we are all busy men and women, I will offer a brief one," Ottokar said lightly.

A wave of chuckles spread through the Hall as all assembled bowed their heads and clasped their hands together, and I began to realize just how powerful an enemy I had now made. Flavia and I exchanged a glance, and I shrugged and bowed my head respectfully. I didn't clasp my hands, though.

"Naga, our Divine protector and healer, hear this prayer," Ottokar began. "May you smile down upon us, blessing us in whatever endeavor this Parliament may decide, and offer us your divine aid as we continue to venerate you…"

He gave me a sidelong glare, then.

"… as we always have," the Archbishop finished pointedly.

I snorted softly to myself.

If he thought he could intimidate me…

Chrom rose again as Ottokar retook his seat, now ignoring me once more.

"Thank you, Father," the Exalt said. "We, the House of Lords and the House of Commons, have gathered here today to discuss one important matter: whether or not Ylisse will go to war with Valm beside our allies from Regna Ferox."

There was a hushed gasp as more whispers broke out in the hall, but Frederick silenced the majority with a glance.

"The House of Lords is at an impasse!" Chrom went on. "It falls to the House of Commons to decide our course now, and the future of our nation!"

"What proof do we have that Valm will advance on Ylisse!?" someone called from the back. "Maybe they will be content with just Regna Ferox!"

"Coward!" I heard Helman cry from somewhere behind me. "They came to our aid against Plegia, a war that had nothing to do with them-"

"So we need to get our men killed doing the same!?" another voice called out.

"It is a foolish waste!"

"To hell with the Feroxi!"

"Savages, the lot of them!"

I glanced over to Flavia at Chrom's side, expecting to see her about ready to climb the barriers and go rampaging through the place, but she looked oddly calm. The only betrayal of the fact that she was royally pissed was the tapping of her index finger against the armrest of her chair.

That wasn't to say that there were no voices raised in Regna Ferox's defense, though…

"Have you swine no honor!?"

"Where do you think most of our timber comes from!?"

"I would gladly march!"

"Enough!" Frederick snarled, slamming the banner into the floor again. "Order! There will be order!"

"I would have it be known that I support the idea of going to war in our allies' defense," Chrom declared, head high. "However, given the… recent record of Exalts declaring wars, I will not order this. The people will decide!"

With that, more cheering and jeering went up from the assembled crowd, and Chrom retook his seat, as dignified as if he were made of carved marble.

To my ear, it sounded like there were more people cheering for Chrom than decrying him a warmonger, but that could have just been wishful thinking on my part. I was honestly too tired to tell.

Beorhito gestured slightly to Frederick, and the big man called for order again.

I winced as he pounded the banner pole on the floor, thinking of the poor bastards who would have to redo the finish on the floor.

"Order!" Frederick cried. "The Lords of Ylisse will hereby begin their debate! The chair recognizes Duke Beorhito of Sudentland!"

"Huh, so that's what his territory is called," I muttered into my hand.

'Southland'. What was it with the Ylisseans and having no imagination about their southern territories?

Maybe Marth had just been really unimaginative…

Burrito rose to more cheers and jeers, holding his hands up as if trying to hush a crowd all chanting his name.

Which they very much were not.

Huge, ostentatious rings crowded his fingers, and a heavy golden amulet bearing the sigil of Ylisse, the Mark of Naga, hung from his neck.

Until now, seeing this ridiculous wealth waved in the Commons' faces, I had been feeling a little self-conscious about how dressed-down I was. Now I was glad I hadn't gone through the effort. Burrito looked like a clown, and very much looked like a lord about to order his poor citizens to do something foul that he couldn't be bothered doing.

"My brothers and sisters of Ylisse!" Beorhito boomed.

I had to suppress another snort at that line.

"I stand before you today as a champion of peace! The peace that the late Exalt Emmeryn gave her life to bring about!"

I shot a glance at Chrom, finding the Exalt looking like he was about to throttle the fat duke. Of course, outwardly he was cool as a cucumber, but the tells were there if you knew what to look for; the tightness in his jaw, the tapping of his fingers, the slight tremble in his leg…

I hoped that Beorhito knew he was playing with fire here, mentioning Emmeryn a second time like that.

… actually, scratch that. I would have loved nothing more than to watch Chrom choke the life from the southern duke.

"I stand before you today in the shadow of the Hero-King Marth's very battle standard, one of Ylisse's holiest relics," Beorhito went on, oblivious. "To remind us, all of us, of our proud martial roots! After only a single generation, the Exalted bloodline has managed to neuter us as a nation by disbanding our armies!"

I quirked an eyebrow. That was smart, placing the blame for the demilitarization on the bloodline and not the much-beloved martyr of Ylisse.

Judging from some of the whispers kicking up in the stands, though, I wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"Valm has invaded Regna Ferox! Of this there is no doubt!" the fat man went on, his jowls quivering with the effort of addressing the whole space. "We must look to our own borders, make safe our own home, and rebuild the armies that were taken from us in our ancient traditions if we are to survive! Remember the stories of the brave Hero-King, who was only able to defeat the Dragon of Darkness by girding his own nation! These tales are more than just allegory, they are an example! A lesson from the past! Ylisse must prepare, and weather this storm as we always have! Perhaps then, can we move to help our erstwhile neighbors."

"There's one problem with that logic," I cut in, standing now myself. "I've already been helping them. And shoring up my borders. At the same time."

"The speaker does not recognize Duke Baham at this time!" Frederick all but snarled.

"Then the speaker needs to get his eyes checked!" I snapped back. "I thought this was supposed to be a debate!? I'll be damned if I waste any more time on this pantomime!"

There was some laughter from the stands at my jab at Frederick, although this was also accompanied by a lot of disapproving shouts and catcalls.

"Do you see!?" Beorhito roared triumphantly. "This new generation of so-called 'nobility' has no notion of the importance of tradition! Our ways are being lost in the face of their filthy industry!"

"If your traditions are so martial then why are you so fat!?" I snarled. "Practice what you preach!"

A lot more laughter rang out this time, and Beorhito gaped like a fish for a few moments, before going red from the collar up.

"It is Duke Baham who seeks this war most of all," Beorhito snarled, pointing one fat sausage finger in my direction. "This impudent baseborn with ties to those barbarians! He has already mustered troops and a response in advance, as if he's above the command of the Exalt! He's a warmonger and a man with divided loyalties, a foreign spy who seeks to drag Ylisse down in the tragedy of war once more for his own vaunted ego!"

There were a lot of shouts of agreement, which easily drowned out the few that called out in my favor. I leaned forwards onto the table, glaring back at Beorhito as he continued.

"This ungodly heathen spurns Naga and has the dregs of humanity in his employ; Pirates, heretics, beggars, prostitutes, lawyers, traitors, renegades; the scum of the earth! For it is his loose morals, his scandalous affairs with married and unmarried women of both human and even, disgustingly, non-human heritage! Observe his bastard of the Plegian seductress Tharja and his relations with the Coney Panne-"

As soon as he mentioned Noire I reached behind my back and pulled one of my daggers out, making a show of thumping it down flat on the table and standing tall with my arms disdainingly crossed.

The duke went still, cut off mid-rant, and the crowd jeering and booing me became suddenly silent.

"One more word about my daughter," I said, my tone low and dangerous. "One more word, and I swear that no amount of guards or 'tradition' will stop me from gutting you like a fish."

"Th-then you do not refute my claims!?" Beorhito stammered, recovering some of his previous bluster.

"My personal life is not why we are here!" I shouted, finally snapping. "Yes, my daughter is half-Plegian. No, I am not married to her mother. What does that have to do with Valm invading!? How about we talk about how you are being investigated for withholding your tithes? Or we go through your long list of bastards!? Or-"

"How dare you mention my children, when you were the one that killed my son!?" Beorhito cried.

This drew in a shocked gasp from the audience, for at this point there was no point labelling them as anything else, before the boos and jeers returned tenfold. I let them wash over me for a few moments, Frederick vainly calling for order in the background, before I shrugged.

Deciding that drastic measures needed to be taken to quell this crowd, I turned and picked up my beautifully crafted chair. It was surprisingly light. Beorhito actually took a step back, his face paling in fear.

Then I smashed the chair on the side of the table.

The crash of wood-on-wood was like a thunderclap in the enclosed hall, and easily overpowered the noise of the mob that the Parliament was becoming.

"Now that I have your attention again," I deadpanned.

"Was that really necessary?" Chrom sighed.

I held a hand up, indicating to the silent, shocked Parliament around us.

"Duke Beorhito, I still truly regret the incident involving your son," I said, surprised at how truthful the statement was.

"You dare label such a crime as a mere incident!?" Beorhito hissed at me.

"The only crimes were the ones committed by your son," I declared. "By orchestrating a civil war between Fruford and Baham, one that we only barely managed to stop. If he had simply surrendered-"

"My son was no traitor!" Beorhito screamed shrilly.

With shaking hands, the duke yanked his ceremonial sword out of its sheathe, and charged around the table. The war priests clustered around Ottokar, who had just sighed and placed his head in his hands.

Before Erutreya or Su'ko could react, I snatched my knife off the table and knocked Beorhito's sword down with a heavy, overhand blow.

Then I broke his nose again, with my fist this time, for good measure.

Beorhito's guards rounded the table as the fat man fell on his giant ass and Erutreya's squad stepped forward. The crowd was going wild at this point, and debris and detritus of all kinds rained down on us from above as-

"ENOUGH!" Chrom roared.

Everyone froze, looking over at where Chrom had risen to his feet now. His regal blue cape had been thrown back, his ceremonial armor glinting in the light as he pointed Falchion down the table at us.

I gulped as I realized Falchion was currently blazing with glowing blue flames.

The crowd became silent once more as Beorhito's guards dragged the man to his feet.

"You filthy heathan churl!" Beorhito slurred, ignoring Chrom completely, his voice distorted by his mashed nose as he shook off the guards holding him up. "You hedge-born bastard! You… you crooked nosed knave! I'll see you hang for this! You and every single one of those base football players you call your army!"

The duke bent down to retrieve his sword, all blood and bluster, but froze halfway there as Chrom spoke again.

"Duke Beorhito, if you pick up that sword, I will have you executed for treason. Duke Baham-"

"My hands are already empty!" I said quickly, holding them up with splayed fingers for emphasis. "Captain, stand down! This isn't the time or place."

You bet your ass as soon as I'd seen the 'blue flames of seriousness' I'd put my weapons away.

Erutreya and her squad stepped back, slowly lowering their weapons as they kept their eyes on Beorhito's men.

"You coward! You base-born, whoreson wretch!" Beorhito continued to bawl.

"Oh, sit down and shut up," I said.

I rolled my eyes as I turned away, stopping when I remembered I'd broken my chair. This elicited a few laughs from above that were quickly stifled when Chrom lowered his sword.

"I am going to make you pay for the chair," Chrom said.

This got a few more laughs from the crowd, easing the tension somewhat.

"As fun a distraction as this has been, perhaps we should get back on topic?" Ottokar suggested, eying Chrom. "Ezekeil, please see to Duke Beorhito's nose. And Hane? Would you be so good as to go and get the good Duke Baham another, heavier, chair?"

"Don't bother with the chair," I stated, before looking up at the packed stands around us. "The simple question is this: where do you want this war to happen?"

Silence met my question. I looked around, defiantly meeting as many gazes as I could, before continuing.

"Well!?" I shouted. "If we do not take the fight to Walhart, if we do not retaliate now, there will be war in Ylisse. We only narrowly managed to avoid that during the war with Plegia, and make no mistake, the raiding and pillaging were minor skirmishes compared to what Walhart will bring down on this continent."

As I spoke Beorhito slunk back to his own seat, his nose mended now but his chin and tunic still splattered in blood.

"And let us not forget, the people of Regna Ferox came to our aid in our time of need! When there was no risk to them, and little reward to be found! They fought and died for your homes, for your families, not their own! For no other reason than because they were asked!"

"They were only 'asked' because Emmeryn disbanded the army!" Beorhito spat.

"The late Exalt acted in the best way she knew how, with Ylisse's best interests at heart!" I said, curbing the muttering that was beginning to grow again.

Displeased muttering. Beorhito was starting to slip, slandering Emm like that.

"But whether we like it or not, times have changed," I sighed, before continuing. "The winds of war blow again, and we must be ready. I am not asking you to send your brothers and sons off lightly; I swear I will go with them, on the first boat in and the last boat out. The people of Ylisse can weather this storm, but only together! We face an enemy force intent on nothing but destruction and conquest! Walhart is known as 'The Conqueror', and for good reason! He has conscripted the men of an entire continent, bent them all to his will, to his ego! He will not stop until all the world is under his yoke!"

There were agreeable mutterings from around the stands now, and I felt my confidence grow a little. I wracked my brains, trying to remember the most motivational speeches and shit from wherever I could. Lines from books, from movies, from real life speeches, all flashed through my mind; they all inspired me, and I spoke as truthfully as I could.

"I will not deny that the odds seem against us in this fight!" I declared. "But as I have seen, time and again during the campaign in Plegia, appearances can be deceiving!"

A lone cry went up from the stands.

A cry of agreement.

"The forces arrayed against us are vicious, and will be merciless," I said, holding up my fist. "But they are weak of will, being forced as they are to fight for a cause not of their own! They are fractured, and divided, and do not fight for each other. Not as we must. As individuals, even as individual territories, we would fail. If we remember that we are part of something greater, if we refuse to give in to fear and despair, and if we perform our duties quickly and efficiently, we can and will frustrate our foe! Frustrate them into making mistakes, mistakes that we will make them pay for in blood!"

Cheering from the stands now as I looked out at them.

Honesty and unity had worked for the army. It was time to take a gamble.

"I cannot promise you this struggle will lead to victory!" I admitted. "But I will promise you that there will be no victory without struggle! I want every one of you to know, from Exalt to pauper, that I will give my life, gladly, in the defense of this nation, our home!"

People were standing now, banging on tables and railings, stomping on the floors. All of them chanting one word.

War.

"We will fight because we must!" I declared. "We will fight them in the streets! We will fight them on the beaches! We will fight them in the plains, in the forests, into the very heart of Valentia itself! We will fight, and we will never surrender!"

War! War! War! War!

"I ask you! I ask all of you, will you stand with me!? Will you defend this nation, our home, with me!?"

Cries of war practically shook the hall now, and across from me I saw one of Beorhito's side slump in his chair, before mopping at his brow with a white handkerchief. Across from him, the hook-nosed duke next to me did likewise, although remained sitting up. And again, until only Beorhito alone hadn't given his signal of assent. He glared down at the tabletop, before shaking his head and fairly ripping his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at the blood still sitting on his upper lip.

There was a loud cheer at this signal, and Chrom held Falchion high.

"Let it hereby be known that Ylisse formally declares war on the nation of Valm!"

---

Author's Note: Sorry to drop another cliffhanger after leaving y'all on that last one for so long. Well... no, not really lol. Anyway, yeah. Been a rough year. I'm not gonna go into it, but I've had some health problems over the last five years or so that are kinda spiralling, so I haven't really had the ability or energy to do any writing. Sorry, but updates are back to 'when they happen'. Hopefully the next chapter doesn't take me a whole year to do this time.

There's still some links to check out on my bio page if you want, but aside from that, I'll see y'all later.

Thanks for the support over the years, and Nagaspeed!