The two remained silent for a while. No—while Mia stayed quiet, Etienne stood guard by her side with visible tension. Seeing his flustered rambling, it seemed he hadn't planned to say anything particularly embarrassing. Though Mia had lived without romance or relationships, she could see what was coming as clearly as her own palm. How could she not? At court banquets, there wasn't a single fool who enjoyed playing with fire yet hadn't uttered those words at least once. But none had ever spoken with such a guilty expression. Perhaps that's why, when Mia finally opened her mouth, she couldn't hide the confusion in her voice.
"...But why?"
Etienne awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"...It's because I... you..."
Mia stared at him as if urging him to continue.
"No. Forget it."
"If you end it like that, how could I possibly forget?"
This ranked among the worst outings in Mia's eventful life.
"Leonard."
Starting her day by seeing his face... this must be terrible luck. Mia turned her head toward the window. Whatever the deputy commander came to say at this point would be predictable—hardly worth listening to carefully.
"Your Excellency. We must leave this place immediately."
Ah, how utterly unsurprising. Even his belated attempt at courtesy seemed laughable now.
"Oh? I've heard no such orders."
"This is a time-sensitive emergency! We can't have our elite forces rotting in this backwater for another week!"
His agitated voice echoed through the cramped room. Only then did Mia turn to face him.
"Hmm... Desk-bound politicians like myself often lack understanding of war strategy."
"Yes! Exactly!"
"Which is why we occasionally devise such 'ill-advised' plans."
Her sarcasm-laced voice was transparent enough for a toddler to understand. But Leonard, desperate to sway her, failed to grasp the underlying meaning.
"You're absolutely right, Your Excellency! Even the goddess would admire your prudence. Please... reconsider."
"Fine, fine. But Leonard—"
"Yes?"
"Since when do staff officers have the authority to bring such matters to me?"
"......"
"Did Etienne send you?"
He flinched. Despite Mia's casual use of the general's name, Leonard maintained perfect military decorum.
Mia suppressed a laugh. This man truly didn't belong in high office—too timid for power plays yet insatiably ambitious.
"So you're asking me to override a decision already rejected by the general himself?"
"......"
"Why would you think that? Did my authority seem so fragile?"
"Your Excellency, we don't have time for—"
"Has the full-scale war begun? No? Then we're still gathering intelligence, conducting reconnaissance, and refining strategies. Wouldn't it be regrettable if officers collapsed from overexertion now? Such matters require careful handling. Don't you agree?"
"Your Excellency—"
"Or... is there another reason for this haste?"
After the red-faced deputy commander retreated in defeat, Mia settled at her desk. Pushing exhausted troops would only bring greater losses—every word she'd said held truth.
Affairs were progressing smoothly. The army needed to stay. Secretly, Mia felt relief—her first attempt to change events was working as planned. No more variables needed.
'If we remain in Glenn as scheduled, the next phase should be...'
Tap. Tap. Her thin pen holder clicked against the desk—a habit when organizing thoughts.
When the sound ceased, she began writing.
⌜Grenier,
I have an urgent request.
Make Etalon culture fashionable in the capital. Clothing, luxuries, food—anything. Position it as something every noble must own. Release all stockpiled goods—they'll soon become necessities anyway. Inform all merchant guild members.
You'll understand. No reply needed.
Stay safe.
M.E.B.
⌟P.S. Your name may be needed soon.⌟
As someone who empowered ostracized magnates to build political influence, Mia knew Grenier—head of Veridian's Etalon Merchant Guild—remained her most reliable ally. He consistently supported her political maneuvers.
The letter was brief. They didn't need context for her decisions. Sealing it in a cylinder, Mia headed to the estate's dovecote.
She hoped for solitude, but found an unexpected guest.
Crimson light streamed through narrow windows, casting sunset hues over fair hair to create an ethereal aura. The man blinked long lashes as he inspected three message-bearing pigeons. His simple clothes only accentuated striking features.
His beauty could only be described as divine—calling him an angel wouldn't embarrass anyone.
This 'angel' seemed too busy to notice Mia. Truth be told, his focused expression while attaching letters was... beautiful.
Yes—Etienne Rochefort was beautiful. Since first seeing him as an honorary officer years ago, Mia had never denied this. Though wars and guilt had dimmed that memory.
But beauty aside—having recently used his authority to expel the deputy commander—Etienne now ranked among those she least wanted to meet.
As if sensing her thoughts, he turned.
Even face-to-face, his beauty remained devastating. Mischievous eyes locked onto hers as he smiled, eyelids crinkling...
'Is he looking at me?'
Mia finally snapped back to reality. His beauty must be addictive—how else could eye contact derail her thoughts so completely?
She found herself speechless. Pathetically so.
"Why are you here?"
A stupid question. What else would the general do at a dovecote? He likely had messages to send.
Fortunately, Etienne ignored her foolishness.
He simply approached with the radiant smile that had become irritatingly familiar lately.
Mia stepped back. Her unyielding composure crumbled before the handsome general's grin.
'Dangerous.'
As if proving her right, Etienne closed the distance—two steps forward for every retreat. Their gazes tangled.
"Mia."
"Yes?"
He leaned close. Warm breath grazed her ear as his laughing voice settled lightly.
"So... when will you confess?"
