The Purpose of Conflict

by Vickers-Vimy-1919

Forced into war, the Empire fights enemies on all sides. Their only ally in the time of crisis, the exiled Kingdom of Albion, seeking strength to restore the crumbling Commonwealth and return to the Home Isles. For Tanya, she finds an ally in the exiled Prince Gabriel. Unsure of his or the Commonwealth's true intentions for the war, the Empire, or herself.

16. Ch 16: Send in the Zombies II

The Purpose of Conflict: Chapter Sixteen- Send in the Zombies II

09/11/1924 / 3KM from Cuxhaven Port, Germanic Empire / HMS Thabisa Nkosi, Officers Kitchen / 11:05

Rachel Stuart opened her cigarette case and extracted one of the valued items, stowing the case back into her trouser pocket. A benefit to traditionally wearing male suits was the increased storage capacity.

She lit the fag and tapped the preliminary ashes away into an ashtray. The other items on the table were the letter her brother told her to investigate for relevant information and the tea she brewed to melt the glue on the envelope. Rachel saw both sides of the espionage she performed. It pertained to their minor coverup in Dacia, providing them with the legal initiative to investigate a potential leak. As it was from Miss, whatever her name was, it would be most fitting for a woman to investigate the friends of her little brother.

The maids and Mother did not judge the Muscovian or the other suspected Imperials to leak information, but security was necessary. It also let her peek into her brother's life. It pained her to admit they drifted apart in recent years.

She guessed it would be better to admit that they never were close. She still loved him. She just lacked the chance to have a chance to talk since… the capture of the Suez Canal in 1923? No, she only saw the 27th from the deck of the HMS Hood. Abyssinia's liberation in 1922? No. She was still in training before that and university before that – Rachel pulled on her length of hair as she pushed past the memories of that era in her life. Neither were available in Aquilonia so, Albion. The last time she had time to talk with Gabriel was on Albion when he was four and she was fifteen.

Rachel sighed as she started reading the letter; she felt old.

It was addressed to "Family" in tasteful handwriting. Skipping to the end momentarily Rachel learned the name Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov, that was the short-haired brunette that hung around the tiny Imperial major.

"So many abnormalities in that country." Rachel played with her fag for a moment before skimming over the letter's contents.

The opening was standard: Viktoriya was alive and well, she loved everyone very much and missed them. It was touching but dull, Rachel wanted something more fun. That did not appear to come on the first page, just recounting her trip to the Vatican and training.

Viktoriya spoke highly of her superior officer; still a patriotic and well-mannered soldier along with a compassionate leader that valued each member of the unit. Rachel chuckled at the confession that Viktoriya still feared such an adorable child each time she became aggressive with subordinates.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Rachel tapped away the fag above an ashtray. The chances that a tiny child could do anything more than squeak aggressively was laughable.

Then the writer shifted towards meeting her brother, described as shy but approachable if one was alone with him. The observation was the ease with which he could talk if it was about history or something else Rachel did not care to remember. However, possessing the ability to become aggressive and violent in a moment.

It was slightly odd to read, Rachel always concluded her brother was talkative. Whenever she heard Gabriel's name he was at a function or on the peripherals of a speech of some kind. Only the other week he was representing the Crown and Commonwealth at the Dacian peace treaty or something akin to that.

Rachel smiled, the girl was not a talented writer, but it was a cute description of a family member It was good to see the Stuart's little soldier had some fire inside him, it could be good for public reception along with the war effort. They had lost the faith of the people before, and Gabriel had taken a small step to earning it back.

The important fact remained, there was no mention of the attempted assassination by the Dacian Lieutenant. All that was left was to transcribe the document for record-keeping and send it off to the Muscovian's family with new glue. That could be done by one of the maids thankfully. She had better things to do such as modernizing the Empire's navy.

Rachel finished her cup of tea after sliding the letter back into the envelope. It was a nice break from the day and a glimpse into her brother's life. The girl seemed like a nice balance between the Major and Prince. She could slot in nicely to the political imaginings to reassert the Commonwealth as the power of Europa. At the moment it was nice to see Gabriel had another good friend in his life.

11/11/1924 / Imperial Capital Berun, Germanic Empire / Aquilonian Embassy, Entrance / 16:20

Tanya looked up at the Aquilonian Embassy rising tall into the grey sky of early Europan winter. Neither herself nor the salaryman was a connoisseur of architecture. Even so, her novice eyes noted the stone lion and gryphon statues, an abundance of glass windows and red bricks hints that contrasted the grey Germanic city around it. In appearance, the building's only distinction was the flags flew at the masthead behind the iron fence: one for the occupied mother country and the other for the dominions. From her position outside, the multi-floored structure had a distinct "Anglo" feel.

Tanya knew she could spend more time looking for minor details on another day. She was here for the express purpose of profiteering from others' misfortune.

Tanya provided her service and pay book along with her officer's card for the guards at the gate and front door. Tanya nearly lost them when the maid ran off with her overnight bag upon arrival. Away with barely a word before a motorcycle came to whisk her away to the embassy.

Tanya had to prove her identity once more at the reception desk when she stepped inside. The lady was more pleasant and furthered her networking session. After a brief wait and a glass of water, another maid came to collect her. Perhaps this was the strategy for Annabelle, to display wealth through her numerous servants. At this rate, Tanya could take them up to the north for reinforcements.

A quiet walk through the maze of a building ended at a set of doors. Through decorated and maintained hallways into a lounge of a similar decree. Couches and armchairs were arranged in the centre for occupants to disperse around. Drinks cabinets, doors, drawers, and a fireplace were against the wall for functionality and design. Tanya judged the space internally. The one wall devoid of furniture held large windows in place to let in the limited sunlight of winter. The furnishings were nice but second to Being X's building in Rome, unfortunately, that gave the tyrant a point in her private game.

The lone occupant of the room was located by the windows, kneeling in the sun with a rosary facing away from her. Unfortunately, it was Gabriel. Tanya had anticipated a real monarch.

"Shall I have tea made for you, Miss Degurechaff?" The maid spoke softly to respect her master's activity. Tanya did the same while there was an audience.

"Do you have coffee?"

"Yes, Miss Degurechaff. I'll have a pot brewed for you. Please wait until His Highness is done with his prayers."

With the maid's departure, Tanya was alone with a weak-minded fool. An improvement from that morning certainly. Just not the royal welcome one on friendly terms with a head of state expected.

Immediately bored of waiting, Tanya walked over to her benefactor to start their regular interactions. Gabriel would likely stop twiddling his thumbs when he noticed a major in rank was present.

"Good morning, Your Highness." She saluted as she had countless times before, the reaction managing to be a first.

"You may either join me or you can be patient, Major." The Lieutenant did not phase his concentration for her expense. Already back to his silly little necklace than military rules. Tanya suspected she might have grounds for disciplinary actions: disrespect and possible threats towards a superior officer. That's what Being X would want; to see her ruin her career in a single impulsive action inspired by His presence.

Tanya relented, apologised with feigned sorrow, and let the boy say his magic words. It allowed her to observe the changes Gabriel underwent in battle.

The prince was visibly pale, illness suggested rather than blood loss. Both arms were injured, the left in a sling and cast while the right hand hid under bandages. Another was attached to his cheek; any others were hidden underneath the dress shirt and suspenders he wore. It was the first time she had seen him out of his many uniforms, still living up to his ideals of a well-dressed gentleman while snapping at her to not interrupt him.

Tanya waited for Gabriel to finish wasting her time. Marked by a sign of the cross and the boy grunting to his feet.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Major Degurechaff." His sentiment appeared earnest if dulled by the sickness of the body.

"I regret it is under such circumstances, sir."

"We must endure with what the Lord provides. One who asks for more often risks the sin of greed." Gabriel's faculties were still over-reliant on Being X, making it difficult for Tanya to judge his well being. Tanya knew she would have to be more direct.

"Are you well, sir?" An obvious answer could be concluded yet it was the most direct way to her goal while steering away from religion.

"I am better than most."

"You will have to forgive my scepticism, sir. To be direct you don't look remarkably healthy. One might think you have contracted the New Plague."

Tanya tilted her head towards the furniture in the centre of the room. Either it put the idea in Gabriel's head or he was content to follow her will. The Lieutenant stayed on his feet to explain his position while Tanya rested in a chair more comfortable than her greenhouse office in the north.

"It is a consequence of the gas, not the plague." Gabriel trailed off to diverge from the main topic. "We should count our blessings Her Majesty eradicated that the Blood Plague in New World before it had a significant presence in the Old World. It sowed enough death into our lives."

Tanya knew the concept of the most recent disease to scare the world. This version of history had its Spanish flu although its scale was diminished by comparison. An ailment transmitted through inflected fluids, when combined with its visible side effects of the victim's blood evacuation from their body it appropriately was titled as the Blood Plague.

The first she heard of Queen Annabelle was in the orphanage's school. She was cited as the woman that crafted and delivered the cure; not the monarch that lost her home country to a revolution. To her credit, the cure was given out freely to all countries in all corners of the globe, old enemies and eventual friends treated the same for once. The Akitsushima Dominion was openly thankful for their former enemy and siding with Europa to sing praise. In total: it limited the New Plague to minor outbreaks in the Empire before the disease burned out. If her memory was correct the only significant human resource that perished was an unlucky member of the royal Adler family.

The Unitary of Albion never acknowledged the event to Tanya's knowledge.

Tanya privately suspected there was more to be gained than piety. Goodwill went along well with opportunities for covert information gathering or owed favours. All coincided with political influence in North America shifting from Washington to Ottawa. At least objective good came from the endeavour and the queen saw value in preserving human resources. The fact it came from the secular sciences was a delightful fact she could hold against Being X.

"As unusual as this will sound sir, I'm happy it's only the side effects of chemical weapons." Gabriel frustratingly failed to pick up on her humour.

"The doctors explained it as a poison from open wounds. It is curable but it gives a rotten feeling in the blood. As I said, Major." He moved his sling slightly. "I am better than many other men from that day. We can only pray they had a love of God greater than this mortal world."

"I assume the offending party got worse than what he gave." Tanya dodged around the comments of religion with schoolyard tactics. She guessed anyone that shot at a prince would not live without consequences.

Gabriel smiled his unusual smile for a moment to return to a neutral frown. "Yes. The man got what he was tempted to give. We are told to love and pray for our enemy. I truly wish I could be strong enough to do such. I am uncertain how we can after that day."

The internal consistency of Gabriel's religion was of no interest to Tanya. One reason of multiple to shift to the relevant events of the so-called "Attack of the Dead."

Gabriel paced along the wall of windows in recounting the events of that day. Occasionally pausing or skimming over events he did not wish to relive. An exploited loophole with reasonable intent to observe the front lines. Tanya respected the manoeuvring, even if it put her benefactor in the wrong direction. From that point, the plan devolved into single actions. The stupid decision accidentally led to a countercharge earned him a cut on the hand and a bullet into the other. With some luck that might be enough incentive to play it safe from that point onward.

"After I…retrieved the hatchet it becomes faint. I remember moments but not the entire battle. There are long periods that fail to make rational sense. A part of me fears portions of my memory are unreliable because of the poisoning or a flaw with my person."

Tanya got her coffee in the middle of Gabriel's description of mortar fire; maybe he was a royal child sheltered from the world. Had he never experienced artillery in the Rumeli campaign or some mock training exercise? On top of the Stuart's maid failing to make satisfactory coffee, Tanya was torn on how to evaluate her regal supporter.

There was a clever brain shining through that prince's thick skull. It could wield intelligence and be able to manipulate rules while upholding them. He had not yet shown he could use that advantage to its full extent. It made sense why Annabelle told him to sit in on Dacia's surrender and why she had a maid babysit him. Her criticism started with how His highness spent his resources and the general cluelessness in his decision making. It was a terrible plan executed spectacularly.

"If you lacked the tactical ability, why insist on staying? You were only assigned as artillery spotters once you came under anti-airgun fire should have retreated to friendly airspace."

"I could never consider such a cowardly option. How could you justify that to yourself? Honouring God comes before any worldly orders, our Father would not want any of us to run at the first true adversary."

The Lieutenant stopped his pacing to fixate on her in the chair. It was uncomfortable with the prince's dead expression, certainly a test or evaluation of some kind. Not enough to make her flinch or panic under the watchful eyes of someone important.

"You were right, Major." Tanya knew she often was but asked for clarification. "Before you told me there were no expectations of grandeur for me or the 27th. I will confess, I assumed your honesty was being delivered against my person. I understand after witnessing it for myself. You have my thanks for being forthcoming with that information."

How had the prince come to that understanding? That she would openly insult him and risk her good standing with the Stuart family. There might be some disorder in the Lieutenant that led him preposterously to that conclusion. Inadequacy perhaps? Gabriel was technically older and more experienced. To have an active Major inhabit the body of a girl eight years your junior might be a catalyst. But that might only materialise if one was predisposed to behave self-consciously.

"How is the North, Major?" Gabriel continued his pacing at a relaxed posture.

"Cold so far. The worst that's happened is the weather so I will consider the war a secondary threat." Tanya found amusement in her next line. "I believe one of your maids walking through camp in a dress has been the highlight for many of the men."

"Is the front that uneventful?" Gabriel continued his pacing after his seemingly rhetorical question. "That does clarify your presence here. Without question a summons from Her Majesty."

"If you know that already it must mean this is a common practice for your mother."

"She prefers to hold meetings in person."

"Does that mean she will want to have a meeting between the three of us?" This information did pique her interest. Potential seemed to be limitless before Gabriel opened his mouth and ruined her scheme.

"I have not been decommissioned to such an extreme extent before. I was previously left to my duties in Afrika and Anatolia without receiving a word, hence I conclude I have been brought here because of my mistake. Since you have made no such mistake I doubt she would meet with us simultaneously." Gabriel lifted his sling to clarify what that mistake was. If that was the point Tanya sympathised with Annabelle. It would be a great loss to her career if one of her best references choked to death in a shell crater.

"Do you know what she would want to talk with me about?" There was the chance Gabriel would know more if this was routine for Annabelle.

"Forgive my blunt nature. Her Majesty is never lacking for intellectuals of any field or nation. If she has summoned you, then it must be for the content of your character. I could not know what she desires specifically, and neither should I. It is none of my business. Destroying the Unitary and the traitors within is the main goal of the Crown."

An awkward silence followed as Tanya was uncertain how to respond. She had her reservations but lacked a reason to despise the principles of the Unitary. They did house an authoritarian government with propaganda depicting a happy society that operated against a free market – nearly identical to the Commonwealth. They were a neighbouring nation that supplied the Entente or Republic outside of neutral trade – their existence or alleged treason was not insulting to her. The Commonwealth's war was not hers to fight. She was wise enough to keep that information to herself.

"That reminds me." Tanya pulled out her papers and separated the folded envelope from the small pile. She explained the item after putting away her credentials. "Second Lieutenant Serebryakov sends her regards. She wrote it while retrieving my overnight bag, so she asked me to apologise for her brevity." Tanya gave her best smile of innocence while placing the letter next to a game of chess on the coffee table. She was just a happy officer doing her subordinates a favour. Not someone implying the same should happen to her or covertly gloating that she had her maid that was more useful than attracting men and being sarcastic. Her girl could at least brew coffee.

"Thank you, Major." Gabriel sat across from her in the other armchair. Facing her at an angle. The paper disappeared into his suit pants pocket with the use of his single functioning arm. Tanya almost felt sorry for Visha. The half-breed could only claw after the regal attention Tanya was rewarded for.

With his attention lowered, the Lieutenant lingered on the chess set propped on the table. He pawed at his bandaged cheek while running through the formalities of gratitude. Tanya knew an opportunity when she saw one. A drink with an employer, innocent office gossip or an activity shared between interested parties could be made beneficial to those who manipulated them the best.

"Do you play sir?"

"I used to before my deployment." Gabriel's eyes shifted between the checkered board and herself. It must have made him nervous somehow. Meaning she needed to be careful to not add stress to her proposal.

"Well, let's see who's out of practice."

She moved a pawn onto the field with emphasised action to display interest in the game. Moving around pawns was something she was used to after all. After a moment to consider the option, Gabriel silently turned the board to the opposite side to face the players and returned her piece to its starting positing. "White is the first side to moves in chess, Major."

Tanya considered the practicality of tactfully allowing her competitor to win or to crush him. Before she could make a decision, however, the prince managed to corner her into a stalemate with her options bordering on a pyrrhic victory at best. The inevitable conclusion was prevented when the door opened behind her back. She wondered if it was another servant that foregone knocking, that theory proven false by Gabriel immediately standing at attention when he noticed their intruder. Tanya peeked at their intruder and was second to her feet as would be the expected behaviour of her in the presence of the queen.

Annabelle was in a formal red and white dress, her hair still tied into a Frankish braid. Tanya was starting to suspect the colour palette of the wardrobe was intentional. For familiarity in an established leader or comfort in established normality; regardless of desire, it made the blue eyes of the blonde shift into a scarlet red as they peered into her. The queen's voice took on the same commanding tone as her gaze.

"Playing a game, I see." Neither player responded. Tanya from uncertainty in her ability to; she guessed it was something more calculated than her sudden return of anxiety.

Annabelle walked in with the elegant silence speaking for her. She took in each detail of the scene: chessboard, her son, her guest, empty coffee cup. Calculating each detail so she might steer the coming conversation in the way she desired. Tanya wondered if the queen was always so easy to read, or perhaps in such a familiar setting, she felt no need to hide her motives.

"Thank you Major Degurechaff for coming down to see me. I hope I'm not interrupting your duties."

"Not at all, Your Majesty." Tanya performed her routine of saluting and bowing before letting her heart start beating again. It was in her best interest to appear pleased while without risking a hint of cowardice. "I hope I can be called upon in the future you when my insight is necessary."

"Honour bound, polite. You have the makings of a young lady in the making, Tanya." Annabelle stood between herself and Gabriel, her attention focused down while she asked a question. "I hope you do not mind if I take you away before the completion of your game?"

"So long as it is ok with His Highness." Tanya could not care less for a silly game. She had a better mind that moved the responsibility to another while respecting all participants. It was rather clever despite the small scale of the manoeuvre.

The queen turned to her son, her expression and dominance unchanged. Annabelle was approximately three centimetres taller, it made it easier for her to cup his face with both hands and kiss his forehead. A whisper from her mouth escaped to mark Gabriel as "my boy" in a soft tone.

Gabriel committed to his silence and rigged posture. It must have been the attention. Tanya was neither one for it but accepted it as part of the family structure. Maybe the papist thought it was a sin of some kind. She did not need to care if it was.

"Don't you think of scaring me like that again." Annabelle's words remained soft and affectionate as she looked at her son. Broken against the lowly nod and flat reply of "yes Mother."

"I am so proud of you. Next time, I need you to listen to your brother. Understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

"That's a good boy." The queen smiled again, revealing pearly white teeth as she kissed her son's forehead again and wrapped him in a hug.

Tanya was mildly perplexed by the events. Annabelle appeared normal if controlling the interaction. Gabriel on the contrary took up a good soldier's pose in a manner ready for inspection. Remaining cold and quiet, possibly even scared.

Tanya thought of what he said about her alleged criticism. Was there another motive she missed in this, or one imagined by Gabriel? Annabelle told her in their first meeting that Gabriel briefly saw his mother at the Vatican. Did the spoiled child want more time or praise; a reward might not be out of the picture.

Whether Gabriel wanted it to end or continue, the queen ended the physical affection and returned to acting like a leader.

"Now." Annabelle reached into a pocket in her skirt and produced a purple crest. Tanya recognized it from being pinned to the prince's chest during his questionable date. It was some kind of family symbol for the Stuarts. "Miss Sanders will be here in a moment to help you get a vest and tie on. I want you to wear this and I won't have you say no."

"Yes, Mother." Annabelle pressed the pin into Gabriel's hand, then turned back down to her.

"Now, Tanya. I think we should give the prince some privacy." Tanya agreed, bid farewell and followed the queen out into the hall. She doubted it would be long until they were reunited and felt no need to exaggerate the action. It never hurt to show your backers that you respected them, or at least pretended to with lip service.

"Thank you for coming down to see me, Tanya. It must be a chaotic profession in the modern-day." Tanya absolved the queen of any blame. Truthful and wanting to ensure future meetings could still be possible. "The Empire is lucky. Back in Daqin, we had no radios in wider service. We barely had telephones. Now, you have computation orbs that are nearly as good as a telephone and adjutants drenched in perfume."

Annabelle appeared sad for a moment but never relinquished her authority for emotions. Tanya respected the dedication to outward stability while experiencing unpleasant memories. It would be to their mutual benefit if she shifted the conversation in a new direction.

"What is it we need to let Prince Gabriel prepare for? I thought he would be ordered to rest due to his illness."

"I'm pleased to hear you care for my son, Tanya darling." Annabelle led her around a corner and back down the familiar flight of stairs. "I have invited Princess Regina for a visit after her afternoon meetings. My son might not be in the best condition, but I never waste an opportunity."

"I should pay my respects when she arrives, ma'am." Tanya wondered if she could be this lucky in a single day. Apparently not.

` "Certainly not." Annabelle was chipper in her played denial. "Why would I want to jeopardize my time with you my darling? I prefer to have you all to myself for a little bit longer. Perhaps later in the evening when Gabriel and Regina have grown tired of each other."

They were back in the embassy lobby. The secretary was joined by the maid that brought Tanya to the prince. She held onto her military greatcoat and a well-maintained red coat presumably for Her Majesty. "Tanya darling, I fancy a walk outside. Would you care to join me?"

"I didn't realize the embassy had enclosed gardens." Tanya would be committed to any activity the queen wanted if it furthered her ultimate objective.

"It does. However, I will be going out into the city." The bored maid slid the coat onto her employer as Annabelle explained her intentions.

"Are you sure that's wise ma'am?" The maid moved to put Tanya's coat on her, slightly forceful due to the height difference and a lack of tact on the Albion's part. In her abilities, Tanya knew she hid her mild frustration from the queen.

"Are you suggesting the streets of your capital are unacceptable for a ladies unaccompanied by men? If I had known I would have had a man escorted you from the train station."

"That is unnecessary." And mildly embarrassing. "It's just…"

It is just you are far too valuable to my career to become another Inejirō Asanuma or Archduke Ferdinand. If she was that honest the embassy door would close with her on the other side.

"Is it appropriate for a monarch to wander around in the open? The emperors of Rome had an escort even before they followed the Dominant model of governance." Tanya finally turned one of Gabriel's lectures into tangible results. Maybe she did owe him a singular apology. Annabelle appeared charmed but renounced the conclusion.

"I see my youngest son still has his love of history; some things never change. Some might prefer solitude and a veil of mystery. I, however, am just a mortal woman. I am a queen and that does not make my fellow man inferior. Besides Tanya darling." The maid passed a red umbrella to the queen as she used the pet name again. The item was expectedly in sympatry with the rest of the outfit. "I have nothing to fear with the mighty Argent at my side."

There appeared to be no way out of it. At least the Caledonian woman had a logical assessment of the situation. It must have been a field test, an extraordinary one if Her Majesty was willing to walk in a foreign city where. At least it was safer to navigate a capital she was vaguely familiar with than the front or an enemy city. She just had to be ready to throw up a protective shield as they strolled through Berun in case someone attempted to cause a political catastrophe.

Tanya pulled her coat tightly around her body as she was hit with the cold of the outdoors. This time she was untouched by the guards with the Queen of Albion towering over her. The umbrella was extended to protect the owner from the snowflakes that fluttered down. The item, though effective at keeping the snow off her, appeared more ornamental to increase her presence through additional stature and splendour.

The embassy was located within the government quarter of the city which gave them a pre-established level of security. The General Staff Headquarters were within walking distance of. Highly maintained buildings to impress the foreigner through spectacle. Beneficial with low human and automobile traffic in late day and a population least likely to violate the law to attempt an assassination. The rest were influential individuals that saw her in the presence of a queen – like an up-and-coming career officer.

This could be beneficial to her. Soldiers, generals and politicians were the most adherent to law. The nature of the Empire's government removed the rowdy teenagers that committed idealistic murder on the streets from their ranks.

"How did you like your treat this morning?" Tanya thought it was a play for hubris – that seeing a mere employee of the queen was a gift itself. The necessary reminder of the Swiss Rolls with red filling to clue her into the true nature of the question.

"Yes. Thank you for your kindness."

"It is proper to reward good behaviour. You enjoyed them at our last meeting hence I knew they would be a welcomed gift. One day I want to teach Gabriel how I do it – perhaps I can do the same for you one day. But you did not come here to talk about the prospects of baking. I can tell there is something critically important in that head of yours that you want to get out."

There was a suspected notion that the queen would want specific outcomes from this engagement. Now it was a matter of deducing what it was and applying herself to benefit from the outcome. There was an unknown balance between a staunch Imperial soldier and rational political theorist that would lead to success in the meeting. The useless variant of each made her into a xenophobic nationalist or a clueless yes-man.

Annabelle was content to begin discussing topics more relevant to the situation of the continent.

"Since my coronation, the Empire has had my respect for two features. Its ability to produce fine youths such as yourself, Tanya darling, and government efficiency. Here, an officer is allowed to express themselves without the overt fear of repercussions. You are living proof of such respect for individuality. Thankfully, you have not incorporated the Empire's persecution complex into your person."

It was an interesting way to compliment her. One that left a smile on her face, ideally independent from the red tint on her cheeks due to the cold temperature. Tanya did agree with the analysis, the only exception being the illegitimate punishments Being X always bestowed upon her. Every flaw in this life could be traced back to the God Gabriel unwisely worshipped; meaning it was logical defensiveness opposed to irrational fear.
"I thank you, ma'am. But do not understand your accusation of the Empire's policy."

"I believe the Abwehr office is in the government quarter too. Those pests." Annabelle kept her voice positive in contrast to the derogatory claim made against the Empire's intelligence agency.

"I don't understand." Tanya looked up to Annabelle and the large umbrella protecting her from the snow.

"The Abwehr has been caught trying to spy on the Commonwealth. Their tricks might work on other nations but not against the people who invented modern espionage. We already found a wire in our embassy, and they are shadowing our volunteer forces on the Rhine and ships in the north. One would think it is suspicious to fulfil the deal we established at the Vatican."

"Intelligence in my field is usually narrowed down to reconnaissance missions. I usually don't always see it as entirely necessary." Tanya knew she had to be neutral until she could determine the best position to hold.

"Never underestimate the value of intelligence, Tanya darling. How else do you think the Empire learned Dacia was going to attack? An informant warned us of the impending attack and the presence of poisonous gas. Without them, we might not have held on. We may not have known when it would come but we knew to give every man a respirator and where to position our units. Knowledge once again proves to be half of the battle, wouldn't you say, Tanya darling?"

Tanya nodded; it was an obvious conclusion for the military or civilian industry. As it was that a powerful individual with such means would station a spy among her enemies. Tanya considered the piece of information to be a gift that displayed the trust installed in her. That and the revelation about the Federation planes attacking them in Dacia, it would be impossible Annabelle wanted nothing in return.

The queen looked down at her for her next question. "Have you met the Vice-Admiral Tanya darling?"

"Not in this lifetime." His reputation among the students and officer corps was commendable, if vague. A man dedicated to his profession and a minimalist presence in the public eye. "I understand his position as an employee operating to the best of his abilities. Despite how he achieves those feats, I have to compliment an efficient procedure when it is evident."

Annabelle matched her professional tone. Thankfully not blinded by nationalism to interpret an objective fact as a personal slight.

"As do I, Tanya darling. If Vice Admiral Canaris did his job better I might have to suspend my emotions. Unless it is a convoluted ploy to lull my intelligence forces. It is frustrating that the Empire lacks the courage to trust the only nation helping them in their hour of darkness. Great powers need to be cautious for their security. It is a mutual fact. That is why I do business face to face when I want something."

To emphasise the point, Her Majesty playfully tapped Tanya once on the nose. An odd playful gesture that was more appealing to the perpetrator of the childish deed.

Therein lay the purpose of this meeting. So long as it did not result in her death, Tanya was happy to oblige within reason. It was laced with aggrandisement that highlighted the Commonwealth and Invicta Pact while the existing connections with the Akitsushiman were omitted. To say Annabelle was wrong however would be incorrect, but policymaking was not within the limits of her paygrade. If she could delegate a battalion of mages she could logically be entrusted to perform other duties.

"Despite the political hazards in engaging with the Commonwealth, I am willing to do my duty for the Empire. If my intellect can be beneficial I see no reason we cannot negotiate a reasonable settlement."

Annabelle smiled down at her. Hence granting her further insight into the situation within the Commonwealth Command in a sociable manner.

"I have earned the ire of my eldest daughter by commandeering our marine mages for deployment on the Rhine front. Unfortunately, we lack the same manpower reserves as the Empire or Republic. I hesitate to view the gift of life like that, however, as simple numbers. I fear God too much to be that callus."

"Isn't that dangerous for the ships? What if they are raided or attacked in a manner that threatens the integrity of the vessel?" Occasional passers-by would not hear her reasoning, so it was merely a display of concern for the monarch. Tanya embraced for the standard retort of the actuality of the Commonwealth's non-belligerent status within the war.

"I see you and my admirals are of a single mind Tanya darling." Annabelle smiled with red eyes filled with energy. No anticipated defence came at the moment. "That is where you can help me solve this problem our two nations find themselves tangled in."

"What did you have in mind, ma'am?"

"Yesterday, I submitted a request for the 203rd Mage Battalion to be transferred to the Rhine front with the 27th Mechanised Wing. I wanted to ask for your opinion before the generals pursue the matter further."

Tanya's heart sank in her stomach upon hearing the proposal. There was a probable chance Annabelle's request could be accepted due to her position alone. Not a guarantee but a risk too great to be left to chance. She did not expect to be made an advisor that day but returning to the Rhine was not an offer she would willingly accept. Norden was a gruelling experience for everyone but was preferable to even a reserve position in the West. That information must have been available to Annabelle and her personality did not appear to invite ignorance. Which meant to overtly deny or imply any false reality would work against her.

"I'm afraid I can't say I would approve of such a plan." Annabelle's expression did not turn sour, the blue eyes that appeared red peered down enticing her for a worthy answer. Tanya had to double-check each point to ensure it could stand up to immediate criticism.

"It would be counterproductive and impractical not to focus on the weaker of our enemies. If the Commonwealth line can hold for the indefinite future our presence would be unnecessary. Furthermore, it could appear tyrannical for a foreign monarch to demand a unit strengthen her forces without a direct threat or ongoing offensive."

"It is a request, not a demand. I am not a tyrant, Tanya darling." The queen offered mild and welcomed resistance. Ideology was easier to manoeuvre around than pragmatism. "The Communists and Fasces maintain their states by lying to control the population – by telling them how to think. It is my job to let my people speak freely, to find the right path and then show it to the people; it is their agency that will determine if they follow me."

"How exactly does that philosophy apply to the present military matter, ma'am?" Tanya failed to see how the immediate comparison to the present situation.

"Sheep need a Shepard. The nation needs a mother. I plan on providing both."

The logic was coherent if objectionable. Tanya maintained a neutral face to hopefully not antagonise Annabelle further. Sheep are dumb animals and humans are not content to be controlled by their parents forever. Each sentiment had proven true in 1911 when her country broke apart and allowed the world map to be redrawn once again.

Tanya pondered if the Commonwealth could have spared itself potential trouble if Annabelle had abdicated at any point in her reign. The queen appeared intelligent and had commendable results of her labour and policy if all sullied by ever-present past failures.

If a CEO mishandled a crisis to such a scale the company was acquiesced to an unfavourable merger or dissolved as an entity, it would be expected the responsible leader would resign. The revolt in Albion did not appear from thin air. Ancient rules of succession and Annabelle's decision making kept her in power as much as it made her lose the kingdom. This all had to remain private speculation however, she needed to determine how she could stay away from the Rhine.

"If human resources are desperately needed along your section of the Rhine. Might I ask if other reinforcements are available from within the Invicta Pact?"

"Invicta Alliance, Tanya darling."

"My apologies." Tanya resisted rolling her eyes. "But what of your Dominion of Bharat or Abyssinia? Surely they can spare a mage battalion or two, the horn of Afrikan has been at peace for years."

"The Empire has permitted a limited number of soldiers within its borders. I will not show diplomatic weakness by violating a treaty written in good faith." The lilt in her voice remained firm as she rejected Tanya's proposal.

"I would not ask for such a reinforcement for mere spectacle. Supreme Commander Curry described it as a highly strategic area. One that is a near-perfect defence that is a simultaneous deterrent from attack. You and your unit has already proven its might and I view this redeployment as a compliment to both the land and the 203rd. Not to mention Major Hanover's unit already in the area could unlock new opportunities."

The queen looked positively pleased with the apparent potential before her. The smile on her face grew with the excitement. Tanya understood it if not displayed in outward appearance.

"Your units worked together magnificently in Dacia. I want to see if that can be replicated in combination with my ground forces in the army. It could shorten the war by as much as a year."

That was not an inaccurate recollection of events. Their work was mostly independent of each other or limited to mage exclusive tasks. The battle for the capital was remarkably easy for herself, most of the combat relegated to the 27th support role. It could be replicated to greater success with her war maniacs in a leading position.

That was all inconsequential if they were going to winter on the Rhine. She would rather freeze in her boots in the north than do anything on the western front. Tanya paused; the passing thought could be arranged considering Her Majesty's proposal. That would be the alternative, one that seemingly let everyone get something they wanted. Primarily herself,

"I have a suggestion in place of the original plan."

"What might that be, Tanya darling?"

"Prince Gabriel told me he has doubts about their unit's contribution to the Rhine theatre. Deploy the 27th on the Norden front with my unit in combined operations. I have seen the Entente aircraft personally and can confidently attest to their ineffectiveness. Your forces would dominate the enemy with air superiority."

The queen looked less impressed with the proposal than what Tanya expected. Not disgusted, but unimpressed the counteroffer was not to her standards.

"I wanted to avoid involvement in Scandinavia. The kings of Norge and Denemcarc are in my court, it is inevitable controversy with the Empire due to the conflicting interests."

"I see." Tanya wanted to bemoan the reason. It was office politics blown up to the international scale. The former kings should covet their possessions second to the situation and their landlady should be smarter than to listen to baseless whining. Should anyone care about minor details while there was a war going on?

"Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?" Tanya waited for Annabelle to contemplate

"There are whispers of unrecognized foreign support on the side of the allies. Tell me Tanya darling, as a soldier who has fought up there. Do you suspect the Unitary could be involved?"

Tanya was not surprised; she should have suspected the queen would look for how the set-up would inevitably forward her goals. In that regard, they were one of the same.

"I have no concrete evidence but would not be surprised if that were the case. To my knowledge, it is an accepted fact at higher levels in the armed forces. During their initial invasion, I witnessed ineffective strategies and use of materials on all accounts." That omitted the squadron of mages that forced her to play up a heroic death in a last stand. Nothing Her Majesty needed to concern herself with. "A natural evolution is expected in times of war. However, there are materials and tactics that not even hypothetical Republican support would account for. If you factor in the…" She could not say it was Annabelle's fault, no matter how accurate. "If you factor in the political stance of the Unitary and the Commonwealth's support for the Empire. It is not improbable they have equipment and manpower assisting the Entente."

Tanya bit her tongue and hoped for the best. Would that be enough? Annabelle appeared rational but her immense prestige and power meant one always had to be careful what they said. It would not be the first time her spoken word was misinterpreted.

The queen took in a deep breath before speaking. The difficult decision displayed on her stern expression.

"Then you will have my approval. I will telegram the air force to make the proposal when we get back to the embassy and await the order to relocate the 27th. It will be like the coalition wars from days of yore. The Albion and Germanic peoples united against a common enemy."

Tanya let herself feel a sense of pride greater than her usual amount. The sensation was carried in her chest while the details were finalized.

"My son will be combat-ready in the near future. I trust you have the ability to prevent the Stuart family or Commonwealth from further bouts of anxiety?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I will do everything in my power to ensure Prince Gabriel's safety." Tanya understood loud and clear. She might be able to pursuance the fool out of danger but would not be able to keep him tucked away permanently. His commitment to a suicidal countercharge and the words of his mother stated such — why else would she mention the family name or country of origin.

"I will need to suggest a combined operation with my superiors first. I have limited authority for the proposal to be evaluated quickly."

"They will see the merit of your proposal, especially when my officer vouches for its merit. Now, come here."

Annabelle stopped her walking and kneeled in front of her, her height above hers without the red umbrella. Formalities were abandoned and the queen acted like a maid momentarily, touching up her coat and hair to appear presentable. It felt unnerving, frightful in the unbeknown purpose of it. Tanya thought she might look identical to Gabriel while his mother hugged and kissed him.

"Ma'am. What is the meaning of this?"

"Tanya darling." Her smile was pronounced, slightly smug from the pride of her declaration. "There is always admiration for being proactive. I want you to march down to the General Staff Headquarters and tell them of this impressive scheme you came up with. Now." Annabelle poked her on the nose again, the warm smile unchanged. "Go show the General Staff what that cute head of yours is capable of."

Annabelle readjusted her cap then sent her off into the world. Tanya saluted her before walking away to her destination. Her annoyance at being pampered and called cute was put to the side for professionalism. Annabelle waved before retreating to her sanctuary with the umbrella as her only protection. At least the capital was safer than Sarajevo.

It was a productive meeting by Tanya's judgment, it made her smile at the ripe possibilities that lay before her. This plan was already regimented for success and the resulting glory would befall partially to her. She only needed enough to ensure her easy life and to spite Being X. There was a time before she would need to protect the Lieutenant in the frozen north to achieve that goal then she would not hesitate. So long as it was the lives of others that were sacrificed to achieve the goal.

11/11/1924 / Berun, Germanic Empire / Aquilonian Embassy, Second Floor Lounge / 17:01

Gabriel moved his black bishop to capture Regina's rook. Chess was not a preferred hobby, but it passed the time of this alleged date. His bishop was subsequently stolen by the unnoticed white queen of Regina.

Their game was observed by a royal guard styled with an eagle-styled ensign and pale purple uniform stood against the far wall. Noticeable but dedicated to his profession of protecting his royal family from any possible threat. While appearing to be a proper soldier with a proper rifle, not a pale prince who pretended to be one.

"Good move. Do you play often?" Regina shook her head, repurposing the question back to him.

"My nephew is rather good at seeing minor options, we used to play a lot before I went to the war in Afrika. The term prodigy might be applicable, but I have not briefed myself on the definition."

"How old is he?" Regina reorganizes the black pieces collected over the course of the match.

"Eight. I last saw him when he was five."

"You let yourself get beat by a five-year-old?" Regina raised a brow, disbelief without disdain in her voice. The expression lingered as Gabriel reiterated his statement on George's skill. The unimpressed gaze gradually made Gabriel stop talking.

There seemed to be no acceptable response to the question, so Gabriel gave none. The ill-feeling that he wanted to attribute to the poison rose in intensity for a moment.

"I read about what you did in the paper. Father speaks very highly of the Commonwealth. He said some of the General Staff have taken to calling the Aquilonains storm troopers now."

Gabriel stayed silent at the compliments. Praise was deserved but he was not the one to attribute it to. Despite what his contemporaries claimed, he still felt the nagging responsibility for not achieving more. The glory and credit of their victory were for the Lord, any other source was vanity.

"We were lucky, nothing more can be said about that day."

"How can you know that?" Regina expressed her point with her hands in motion for emphasis. The queen she captured in the early game trading hands after each sentence. "There are many moving parts in a machine. My brothers always ramble on about the minute details of the army and war. It's quite tiresome honestly, what else can I expect from a man? I prefer the more, exciting, that's the word. The more exciting parts of it all. Like what you told me at our first meeting. Knowing how these men live and what they eat gives me an idea of how I can help them. On top of seeming like fun under the right conditions."

Regina went on to share that she negotiated for a sale of unsalted meats between the Imperial government and the Commonwealth as a gift for the soldiers along the Rhine. An example of her information gathering and kindness. That he was supposed to achieve the same respect for the Stuart name after one measly battle where he underperformed was laughable.

It was a nice gesture by the Imperial but tainted by the sickness that riled up when forced to remember the previous day of consequence.

"I hope I am not too demanding, but I would rather not talk about the war for today. If you would not be inconvenienced by my request." It was not a favour he wanted to ask, neither was being physically sick in front of someone he might be expected to marry. That own thought made the anxious disease increase.

Regina shook her head, her hands running up the length of her dress to smooth out slight creases. Despite her apparent love of activities Gabriel partook in as opposed to his person, she relented.

"So, what are we supposed to talk about?"

Gabriel recalled faint advice from James back when he was first scheduled to meet the princess. It was the same day he reunited with Tanya, where he first met Miss Serebryakov when he made a fool of himself in front of General De Lugo for queen and country and got this wretched purple crest pinned to his chest.

He never did get that book back from his brother.

His compensation was delivered in the form of supposed advice on dating. "It's best to let the women lead for the first time." Perhaps that could succeed on the second occasion.

"Perhaps you should start the discussion. Your friends, hobbies, family?" That sounded like information he read in a worthless book a lifetime ago. Regina pondered at the prospect of talking about anything she wanted. Why she struggled to find something that was not related to violence was concerning. Inevitably, she went with the last option: family.

"It is said the Adler line is descended from the great hero Arminius." Regina smiled with pride behind her lipstick and white teeth. "In charity events for father, I like to say I'm as young as the concept of Germans themselves. It is a little artistic flair that can win over the patriotic industrialist or officers easily."

Arminius: The Cherusci prince that played the role of turncoat to unify the Germanic tribes against Roman expansion. It was a dubious claim he had heard before. He was only a student of history but had doubts about the legitimacy of the evidence that linked the Adler line to by nearly two millennia. The claim your ancestor bested Augustus was too prestigious to not use, no matter the accuracy. The family already lived through an injection from the faithful Habsburgs similar to the Julio-Claudians had before. To feel the need to cling to a treasonous pagan felt counterproductive.

"That is discounting the treachery and deception of Arminius." Gabriel remembered the figure for what he was, a traitor. In the pre-Christian age of mortal words being equivalent to the gods, the Germanic prince branded himself a heretic. Gabriel had spent his life killing traitors and would continue before his time was done. To live as one was forfeiting value in your existence. He did not quarrel with conveying his reasoning to his supposed date.

"It's not treason to put your loyalty to your people." Regina's justification omitted the oaths of loyalty to the Roman state and its subsequent people that were slaughtered in the Terborg Forest.

"By that reasoning, in a hypothetical civil war in the Empire, the House of Arminius and Adler is suited to win no matter their employed strategy. It could be a monarchy or a possible puppet of the Federation. As loyalty is secondary to victory."

Gabriel realized the truly foul nature of his sentence when the princess' expression told him the exact mistake he had made. The guard that held up the wall appeared ready and willing to run him through with a bayonet for insulting his sovereign's kin. With luck bestowed by the Lord, they might accept an appropriate apology.

It was the divine intervention that summoned a distraction as the Lieutenant tried to work the word "apologise" into his otherwise correct statements.

A knocking at the door stole the words out of Gabriel's mouth. The room was invaded by the often-familiar Miss Canvel. A tray in her hands and tonally neutral Germanic greetings on her tongue.

"Good afternoon Your Highness, Princess Regina." A small curtsy was without disturbing the contents of the tray; revealed to be an assortment of bandages and miscellaneous medical supplies. The pale purple guard stepped off the wall to observe the tray in case a strip of cloth or hypodermic needle could commit regicide. In the hands of Miss Canvel, it might be possible.

Gabriel privately contemplated what was intended to happen. It would be wise to let this play out.

"Her Majesty has requested a checkup on your wounds sir." Miss Canvel deposited her materials next to the chessboard, turning to the Imperial with her hands behind her back. "Would Her Highness find the interest to assist me?"

Regina's discomfort was evident immediately. Further stoked by Miss Canvel's reassurance that blood would easily wash out of her dress. Gabriel saw the purpose but did not intervene in the plan. The maid always had a purpose beyond her perverse hobby. Regina politely declined the offer, excusing herself to the water closet and retreating with her guard in tow.

The clicking of the latch was Gabriel's indication to open up discussion.

"I see your hobbies have not changed, Miss Canvel."

The maid eyed the chessboard as she responded. "It can be entertaining to make certain people uncomfortable for brief periods of time." She moved Gabriel's last bishops to put Regina into checkmate, briefly muttering how neither royal was any good at the sport. "If you cannot tell by my expression, I am brimming with satisfaction, sir."

"I will take you at your word, Miss Canvel."

Miss Canvel forced a small, unsettling smile that gleamed with near murderous intent. Gabriel shivered but resisted the bait. The maid started her work on her master's right hand. Carefully removing the old bandage to rebind the area where Gabriel desperately grabbed an enemy knife. A task that could be accomplished in silence if Miss Canvel wanted.

"The girls and I applaud your actions from the other day, sir. Irrespective of the current outcome."

Gabriel muttered thanks while avoiding eye contact. He wanted to say, to scream rather, how there was more he could have done. More than he should have done. Her Majesty showed him the casualty estimates when she took him from the hospital. How pleased she looked that he did something, while all he could see was a number that could be one lower if he did better.

Miss Canvel unwrapped the last of the bandage. The cuts and resulting stitches were lined red but otherwise stable. The sight made Gabriel's stomach turn; the memory of the incident reappeared in his mind with the accompanying pain. Miss Canvel took no visible issue with the wound and got to work cleaning and inspecting the site.

"Mages seem to have all the luck, sir. A pinch of magic and a kiss on the cheek and you're ready to get stabbed again." Miss Canvel observed her prey for a reaction, none came until she switched tactics and Gabriel shifted. "I will contact Miss Pierre so we can fulfil both requirements in the least amount of time."

"If I am to build off of Peggie's history, it would not be a cheek on my face." The maid was chuffed by the quick response, such as expressed in a rare change from her neutral expression.

"I delivered Miss Serebryakov's letter on your behalf, sir."

Finally, some good news.

"Thank you, Miss Canvel. I hope it was not overly cumbersome for you." Gabriel kept his eyes off his caretaker for this topic. He hated asking for favours from the royal maids.

The maid scoffed as she applied disinfectant to the wound. "I had an assignment in Constantinople with Miss Sanders during the Dardanelles campaign. While you were drinking tea with that little girl that clings to your side, I was getting shot at by the Turks."

"I feel pity for those Turks."

"As did they." Miss Canvel injected a needle into Gabriel's arm. She held off on pushing on the plunger to emphasise her point. "So, I am more than capable of handling the mail."

"If it was only a courier's mission then Rachel would not have sent you. Would I be correct in assuming that would be after reading the letter as she did with Leah's diaries?"

Miss Canvel was silent, informally confirming the accusation by removing her fingers off the needle. Gabriel knew he should have expected it. He should have denied Miss Serebryakov's request for her own sake. He had sacrificed her privacy and dignity at the hands of his sister. Would this evolve into an open invitation for needless security checks and further excuses to intervene in the girl's family?

Miss Canvel seemed to read Gabriel's thoughts, not impossible due to her profession, consequently prompting her to inject the needle's medicine into his arm. Afterwards listing unwarranted details of the Muscovian immigrants.

"Suburb neighbourhood, Kiel, family-owned shop in the city, well-maintained property. Occupants currently at two men and two women; Miss Serebryakov's parents, aunt and uncle respectively."

"What did James write for you to say to them?" Gabriel tried to derail the conversation to temporary success. Miss Canvel asked for clarity, unaware of the item Gabriel described.

"Perhaps it was intended for your sister, sir. My only instructions were to assess the family and deliver the letter." There was the redirection, Miss Canvel put herself on the topic she wanted as she rewrapped the arm.

They were at an impasse between privacy, curiosity, and honesty. Each participant committed to each value to varying degrees. The maid inevitably overcame these reservations and continued with her report.

"The Father, quite the friendly man. Tall, well built, healthy brown hair, handsome face with stubble. Walks with a slight limp and uses a cane."

"How old is he?" The temptation of interest got to Gabriel at the moment.

"Early forties I guess. An untreated injury from the conscription period, so he tells me. I did not evaluate it to be a lie, sir."

"Then there is the mother. Gave Miss Serebryakov her surname. Cold face, shorter blond hair, bangs parted to the left, dismissive of strangers in maid dresses. A former tsarist officer turned industrial orb manager in a factory, skilled enough to climb ranks while young but not prominent or wealthy enough to be accepted into the exiled government in the Commonwealth. Slight accent, unsure how much of her commitment to her old country is natural and what is stubborn."

Miss Canvel shifted; it drew Gabriel's attention to see her face morph to a sly abomination.

"Miss Serebryakov did inherit her C-cup breast size."

"I bid you stop." Gabriel looked away with a sour face, it enticed Miss Canvel to persist. The transparent cover of reporting her findings the safety net to make her master wince at her desire.

"I wonder why they stopped at one child. Fine hips on Mrs. Serebryakov. It is enviable to women such as myself, I can only speculate what it can do for men."

"Miss Canvel!" Gabriel raised his voice against the offender, sternly commanding one of the girls for the first time in a long time. He had to close his eyes to prevent his nerves from reactivating in case Miss Canvel looked at him. "Do not disrespect the women of purity in my presence The gifts of God are not to be mocked for tact. Stop talking or move on, the devil."

Miss Canvel neglected a smile while indulging in her satisfaction from causing her master to be uncomfortable.

"It is a fair question wouldn't you say, sir? Two healthy adults, early forties, stable income, and lifestyle. Why only one child?"

Gabriel was tempted to pursue the thought, why indeed? Miss Serebryakov would be an ideal older sibling; she informally mimicked the role with young Tanya. While intriguing, it was gossip that did not concern them. His effort to relay the sentiment failed to persuade the maid, however.

"One child might not be accurate, sir." Gabriel committed to silence. Whether he asked or forbid it, Miss Canvel would tell him. "Miss Serebryakov's aunt, her father's older sister by a decade, has had three boys with her husband. They were practically adults in boarding school by the time Miss Serebryakov emigrated."

"I assume you will now inform me of Miss Serebryakov's aunt's reproductive organs?"

"That is only fun to irritate others in moderation, sir. Besides," Miss Canvel smirked as she moved onto the bandage on Gabriel's cheek. "The features are most pronounced on the Muscovian side of the family."

Miss Canvel peeled back the bandage and started the same process of cleaning. The new position placed the maid into Gabriel's gaze. The cut would not scar him, Miss Canvel commented that he would "need to wait another day for a heroic scar" with her usual tact.

"Perhaps I can have my lip slit; like Emperor Heraclius."

"That would be rather ugly, sir. You would be better off having a cut across your eye. Girls tend to like that dangerous look."

"I will stick with the one on my hand for today Miss Canvel. I have no interest in losing an eye."

"It would be merely a cut, sir. Girls dislike eyepatches."

There was silence after what might have been a compliment. They were alone. It would be wise to resolve a matter that had been weighing upon the chest of the injured Lieutenant.

Gabriel sank deeper into the armchair at the thought. He knew if he wanted to settle the unfortunate matter now would be the best time. When else could he expect to have a private word with one of the maids he trusted the most? It was not a matter of desires; it was his duty. It could be seen as an extension to the date Her Majesty assigned.

"Miss Canvel?"

"Yes sir?"

"You were the one to oversee the Greenshirt operation in Dacia?" It was a question intentionally stylized as a statement.

"Might I inquire as to your assumption?" The maid predictably made no indication of shock or conformation.

"You used the same method in Tanzania. Find the head of local forces, find their home and send in the mages to go where you cannot be seen." Gabriel swallowed the knot in his throat as he inadvertently exposed a spy.

"Her Majesty will be pleased to hear your skills of deduction remain unimpeded. As am I." Miss Canvel started dabbing the cut with the icy solution that stung the alleged beauty mark. Unconscious instinct had Gabriel flinch away at the temperature. The reflex was temporarily corrected by the woman's other hand locking the scalp in place.

"I thank you Miss Canvel." Gabriel looked away momentarily to regain some of his courage. "There is something I want to ask of you, in relation to Dacia."

"I can provide the file from Miss Sanders if she will allow it."

"That was not what I imagined. My heart wishes to request a matter that is personal in nature."

"I see. It is the destiny of every maid to be ravished by a lustful master."

"There is more purity within you than to joke about that, Miss Canvel." Gabriel reminded himself that this was only a ploy to tease him. To give her a reaction would let her win, equally, she already got what she wanted knowing the sentiment made him uncomfortable.

"What is this personal matter, sir?"

"It relates to Lieutenant Tóth." Miss Canvel paused her action. Her eyes gave no hints to what lay beyond in her mind, but Gabriel felt the woman stare into his soul. She could not have known what happened. The look was just a trait of spies, to assign predetermined conclusions to it would be silly.

"What would you like me to do, sir?" As tonally neutral as always.

"To my understanding, the former Dacian army is unable to return confiscated property due to their defeat. I will provide funds from my pay to have cattle and horses sent to Mrs. Tóth."

"May I ask why you wish to keep this discreet?"

"I would prefer if you did not." Miss Canvel's eyes cut into his skull once again but quickly relented. Followed by confirmation the secret mission would be completed by the end of next week. "Thank you. I am in your debt."

"Please do not consider yourself in such a state, sir. This is my duty as a maid."

Gabriel held his breath until the maid moved back to her tray of medicine. Either she failed to notice or, more accurately, decided not to comment on the action. He provided thanks for her services in the present and future without drawing on them. The weight of his flesh over-encumbered in the chair. The matter of the Dacian abuser should be settled going forward. It was fixed, so he should feel better. No more lingering thoughts or pains that he did something wrong when praying to the Lord.

"A word of advice sir." Miss Canvel paused the organization of her tray to offer her final insight into their remaining privacy.

"The reasoning is not exclusive to the situation with Princess Regina, but I believe it is appropriate. Some decisions might not become easier over time, but you must keep committed to them, sir. There is more always at stake than yourself."

11/11/1924 / Berun, Germanic Empire / General Staff Offices, Zettour's Office / 18:20

Erich von Rerugen watched the little girl leave their office; the child saluted for a final farewell before disappearing into the building. She nearly skipped out of sight in a state of glee.

To say It was a tense meeting was an understatement. Rerugen panned around the room and saw that reflected in everyone's posture and actions. Von Rudersdorf offered and lit a cigar for himself and dual General and Crown Prince Josef. The latter visibly shook when he stood still and took to pacing around the office to hide the fact, the former contained his emotions to a scowl. Von Zettour sat behind his desk intently reading a file that pertained to the topic at hand. After Rerugen included his posturing, the eldest man among them handled the contentious subject matter the best.

The little monster appeared ignorant of the atmosphere she spoke in. Major Degurechaff nearly fooled him – she revealed in the setting.

"It's not an unreasonable proposal." Rudersdorf reinitiated the vacant discussion in the room. "More mage units at our disposal can bolster the North's planned winter offensive. Not to mention provide new tactics previously unavailable to us."

"Lieutenant Colonel Rerugen. What has your friend reported to us?" Zettour made a rare play at humour from his desk. He continued to look amused with himself while staring at the file.

The Albion Crown Prince took a liking to him for an undetermined reason when they first met. Which rendered his position as a de facto diplomat between the two staff. Although it could simply be a precaution to stop further graffiti appearing on Zettour's map. It did earn him a bottle of disgusting Caledonian whisky which sat in his Berun apartment.

"General Stuart has boasted to me they can hold the new territory and their section of the line without further incident. Supreme Commander Curry's report following the battle claims the same, although with more factual evidence. While not explicitly stated, it should be stable without their mechanized mage units."

The other three men listened to him without interruption. Prince Josef spoke a complete thought for the first since the devil walked in.

"If necessary, my units will spare some mage units for air superiority. It will remind the Commonwealth which country they're in." The room accepted the offer at face value. It was rarely so simple, but the Rhine front would thankfully hold regardless of the decision made that day.

"Part of this is embarrassing." Rudersdorf pushed on with a relevant topic, tapping away his cigar's ashes in between puffs. "We have been fighting and steadily losing ground against the Franks for a year. Now the largest push has been undertaken by the Albions in the heat of the moment."

"There spearhead was made of colonial units of all things." The prince muttered embittered with his cigar in his mouth. "How will it look to history that we struggle where a second-class nation prospers?"

"If a race of men can continuously fight like that. I doubt any criticism on their origins would have any legitimacy, Your Highness." Zettour closed the folder. "Drawing back to the main topic. If the Commonwealth can spare the unit and it will grant more options to the 203rd Mage Battalion, I see no reason to deny the major's proposal."

There was unanimous agreement among the men in the room, spare one. The crown prince held military rank and respect among his peers, while there were private concerns about his military analytical aptitude. Rerugen held no animosity to Josef in either field. It was expected his political responsibilities were a priority, if at the cost to his divisions in the army.

"A combined operations force would be a bureaucratic predicament. Seeking approval from the Albion dogs for each mission would weaken our response time and for what?" Josef found it in him to speak in a loud antagonistic manner. "To give the Invicta Pact another avenue into the heart of the Empire. We might as well surrender our sovereignty to them!"

"With respect sir." Rerugen found it in him to nearly recommend the little monster. "Major Degurechaff would still maintain a hold over our troops. It is not a surrender of any kind."

"If her recommendation is approved or involves the Albion or that witch of a queen I refuse to accept it. Their meddling in the Dacian peace deal already deprived us of annexing former Hungarian land and I'm still hearing complaints from officials in the region. We are a powerful empire; it makes us look weak to not take territory from a defeated foe."

Josef rapidly shifted his eyes at everyone. His point was true if exaggerated. The Emperor and Supreme High Command representatives approved of the peace deal — uninterested in appearing aggressive or inviting stability to satisfy the Hungarian politicians and nationalists.

"She should be suspended from active duty and evaluated as a potential threat. She can work as a training officer of some kind with our other mage units in the meantime."

The proposal turned the room against him, even if it was in the spirit of Rerugen's opinion. Degurechaff was dangerous but he doubted it would be from her political aptitude.

"Sir. That's unreasonable." Zettour rose from his desk and walked to the front, passing Rerugen the file he was previously reading. "That girl has shown unwavering loyalty to the Empire. It would be ludicrous to punish her on nothing but suspicion. Her abilities alone are reason enough to reconsider such drastic measures."

Zettour's calm put the prince in an uneasy position.

"She has certainly made herself many powerful friends. Perhaps we should reconsider her deployment on the front lines." Rudersdorf managed to bite back any frustrations he likely possessed in his commentary on the topic.

"I see you're getting through to the General." Zettour made a rare joke, looking towards Rerugen briefly before returning to the serious matter.

"You must be mad. Major Degurechaff would never go through with it. She requested multiple transfers from Doctors von Schugel's testing specifically to be at the front. Finding a replacement with her qualities would be impractical in a wartime setting."

"Queen Annabelle made it a point of embarrassment to my father the day before yesterday because we use a "child" in our army." Josef was back on his personal warpath. Everyone was uncomfortable to challenge the notion that was rooted in fact. No matter how much she convinced them of the alternative, Tanya Degurechaff was still a little girl.

"Perhaps she wants to avoid a guilty conscience of hurting a child when she betrays us, burns Berun to the ground and salts the earth."

"That might have a basis in reality, sir. But we shouldn't let political theories influence our war effort."

"Political theories!" Prince Josef shouted to everyone in the room. His frustration turned to anger. Foul language and derogatory names are directed at their ally and their "alleged" accomplishments. His rant finished as quickly as it started, and Josef was left to lament in his anger and pity.

Rerugen was disappointed the other party that could sympathize with his views on the Major delegitimized the position with his outburst.

"Forgive me. That was unbefitting of me. I should show more respect to you gentlemen." Josef palmed his face; each hand shook independently of its owner. He was defeated without anyone acting as his opposition.

"We are aware of the threat the Commonwealth hypothetically poses, sir. We view it as a resolved matter." Zettour elaborated on his calm declaration. "However, our decisive element is the military. We currently hold an informal theory among the General Staff. In the event of a military engagement, we are projected to easily outclass them on land. It would not be impossible to push them down to the Arabian Kingdom or Suez. At that point, they could be coerced into a white peace within six months to a year."

"The pressing fact is that they are supplying us with necessary resources we struggle to access otherwise. Their goals are the same as ours so we should not worry about military betrayals."

"We have considered all possibilities." Rudersdorf made another pass on his cigar. Just as Prince Josef devolved into a pitiful speech.

"No, you haven't. If you did you wouldn't say these things. You wouldn't be having this conversation and you wouldn't allow that mage unit into Scandinavia." The crown prince still had the fire of his resistance if dampened. His arms continued their irrational shifting as the final points were made.

"You might not see it, but I do. This war doesn't end when we capture Parisii or occupy all of Scandinavia. Those vultures will see the Empire is neutered before they have us fight their war with the Unitary for them. If we're anything more than just another colony we'll have our economy tied to Londinium."

Rerugen felt the inability to speak. A sentiment shared with Zuttour and Rudersdorf. It was an extreme if impossible theory. One not without president but seemingly impossible with the Empire's military at its current strength.

Their focus was on the military, the politics had to be left to the government. There was no point in exhausting any more effort in their defence. Each side made its argument, and neither could win over the other.

Josef ran his hands across his face to abruptly return to a professional — if saddened — state of calm.

"Gentlemen, I don't doubt your loyalties. Neither do I dislike you, despite the likelihood you and many others dislike me. We all value the Empire for one reason or another. I only want to stop our current course before it becomes inevitable. I don't care if it's underhanded or cruel, the Empire must survive."

The prince excused himself and shuffled out of the office. No one attempted to stop him. Life returned to the room when they were sure their heir and the eventual boss was out of sight and earshot.

"I'll propose the notion. Lieutenant Colonel, gather the rest of the available General Staff members in here and familiarize yourself with the Commonwealth's finest. We should start this partnership with a test of our ally's capabilities to cooperate with Major Degurechaff before we plan the Winter offensive further."

"Yes sir." He was prevented from leaving immediately by further banter initiated by General Rudersdorf.

"Do you still hold your views on Major Degurechaff?"

"I do sir."

"You can make your case again when everyone is gathered here. I trust you can be more diplomatic than His Highness."

Zettour started making his way to one of the many maps laid out on a table in the room. Rudersdorf joined him with his cigar still locked in his mouth.

"We should select a target that utilizes our new air advantage and range. Something in their supply system before we finalise the offensive."

The pair of old friends dissented into the small talk of strategy as he left the room. He opened the folder as he started walking around the headquarters. At a glance, it appeared standard, descriptions and photos bound together with paper clips. All the available information they had on the 27th Mechanized Mage Wing and the notable qualities: several talented pilots, mages capable of operating at new heights, the prince that had been making the rounds in the paper recently. It should be expected all of his preservice life would be censored, Rerugen was still unnerved nothing official about that boy was known. All information was compiled on a sheet of brief analytical notes made by Zettour.

A small note was placed on top of the pile, written in unfamiliar handwriting not belonging to any member of staff Rerugen knew.

His Latin was subpar, but he recognized the words from the language.

Deus Vult.

For Aquilonian Embassy. Mr. Prince Gabriel Stuart.

Mr. Stuart.

I'm sorry for the short length of this letter, I am not filled with free time at the moment. I write this while I'm supposed to be retrieving the Major's overnight bag. I assume she'll already have seen you by now and has given you this letter. Someone as considerate as her will understand why I took the time.

I learned about what happened to you from Miss Canvel. She arrived just now and told me along with the Major. She didn't look happy about it either, slightly sick if I can be honest. But that might be said for anyone in these circumstances.

I'm disturbed to hear about your, condition, I guess. I'm not sure how to say it honestly. I don't have the time to figure it out either. Miss Canvel told me Peggie is alive and ok so that at least is good. Have you ever been shot before? I guess not, you probably would have said it or something like that.

I'll pray for both of your recoveries.

I still haven't told anybody but maintain my stance on that topic we discussed. I pray that you will change your perspective Mr. Stuart. There is more at risk than the law.

Write back when you have the time, please. The information is on the back of this paper I "borrowed" from the Major's desk.

For a safe and swift recovery.

Your friend. Visha Serebryakov

A/N:

The first point to address: I am making no direct parallel or imitation of current politics.

The New Plague/Blood Plague was an idea and minor plot point I imagined back in 2019 rather than current events. This is the truth since I'm not interested in overt meta-commentary on the world's politics in a fanfiction of all things. I cannot make anyone believe me, but no one will find a grand stance or opinion piece when it is relevant again.

It is also a reference to Fallout that I wanted to put in. Wiser counsel wants me to use the Ispagnian flu, but I prefer the devil I know.

This extends to all events for the month of February 2022. Most of the chapter was planned in detail and written in December and January of 21 and 22 respectively.

To build off that point. I anticipated this chapter (half chapter by the original plan) would be out sooner but had to be rewritten. The original plan for Annabelle and Tanya had to be redone. The conclusion is still the same but how we got there was different and absolutely none of my beta readers liked it.

In related news to updates (and why this one took longer than anticipated): my current living arrangement has a consequence of restricting when I can edit. Added with the toil of life the story, unfortunately, becomes hard to work on entirely. I am still committed to writing and finishing this story – it just might be delayed due to factors I cannot state out of others' privacy. All I can say is it is unlikely to change, and I am powerless to stop it.

Now a bunch of miscellaneous notes:

I am smug about my decision to make Visha's mum based on her canon light novel appearance. It is not revolutionary but I think it's fun in the context of the story.

I am aware "Mr. Price Gabriel" is incorrect formatting, but Visha plausibly can make such a mistake. Especially if she's writing it in a rush.

I have gone back and added Visha's father using a cane in the flashback in chapter three. It was not a big deal at the time, so I decided to write over it but now realize that was a mistake. It is best to fix it late rather than not at all. It was also referenced briefly by Visha in chapter seven.

The ship at the end (HMS Thabisa Nkosi) is named after the Prime Minister of South Afrika mentioned in chapter three. At least the Hood is currently afloat and sailing with the "good" guys.

The title is referencing a mixture of things but is mostly in the spirit of Canada's zombie army in World War Two. Now that the 27th is going into a "modern war" I thought it was thematically appropriate.
There are no current plans to stop writing the story.

Thank you for reading. God be with you all.