Chương 275: 55. Muster 4

By the time I'd walked Olivia all the way to the entrance of the main command tent, I still hadn't fully registered how serious this situation was about to become. Or rather — I had registered it. I just hadn't registered how fast it would happen. In theory, none of this was strange. Ignicia, having arrived at Three Rivers Fortress first, personally leading the Dragon Kingdom's forces, sitting in the command tent now, handling the reception and deployment for the fortress — perfectly normal.

Olivia, arriving with the full Eisenberg logistics framework and the army's supply backbone, being brought directly here by me — equally reasonable. The problem was: What's reasonable in theory and what's lethal in practice have never once been the same thing. I was standing outside the tent, hand already on the flap, when this painfully simple, painfully fatal fact finally caught up with me. I closed my eyes. Well. That's done it. Hadn't expected it to be this soon. But that's usually how life works.

You already know there's a pit ahead of you. You're already standing at its edge. And there's still someone behind you, pushing you forward. So I gritted my teeth and threw the flap open. Inside, it was far quieter than outside. The main table was already buried under maps of the river channels around Three Rivers Fortress, sketches of the outer camp expansion zones, progress logs from the transit gate worksite, and the projected distribution charts for the incoming kingdom forces.

The lamp at the center of the tent cast a steady, unwavering light — steady enough that you could read everyone's expression with uncomfortable clarity. And Ignicia was sitting right in the middle of it. No armor today, but she still sat like a blade resting in its sheath. Hair tied back, red eyes calm, a few freshly annotated dispatch sheets at her elbow. She looked up at the sound of the flap. Her gaze landed on me first, then — very naturally — slid past me to the person just behind my shoulder.

A second later, Olivia stopped walking too. She didn't speak right away. She simply stood just inside the entrance and lifted her eyes, slightly. In that instant, the air inside the entire command tent felt as though someone had taken a fine needle and stitched it shut. On the surface, nothing happened. It was even, technically, quite polite. But standing between them, I was acutely aware of one thing: If someone were tactless enough to sneeze loudly right now, the atmosphere alone might slice them clean in half.

Fortunately, Olivia moved first. She stepped forward, the sweep of her cloak and skirt settling with exact composure. Her bow was impeccable.

"Your Highness." Her voice was warm, clean, without the slightest misstep. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Ignicia didn't slight her, either. She remained seated, but inclined her head — a return greeting calibrated to the same precise degree as everything else about her.

"Olivia von Eisenberg." Her tone was even. No deliberate pressure. No extra fraction of warmth offered, either. On the surface, this was two people of significant standing completing a perfectly proper first meeting under the banner of a shared campaign. The problem was— I'm not blind. So I could see it. Buried inside Olivia's "Your Highness" was a standard of etiquette so textbook-perfect that it made the distance between them unmistakable.

And when Ignicia returned only her name, with no title attached beyond what duty required — it wasn't rudeness. It was simply, precisely, the line drawn exactly where she wanted it. In short: Both of them were being exquisitely polite. And the more polite they were, the more I wanted to turn around and walk straight back out. Olivia was the first to push that suffocatingly proper air one step further. She lifted her eyes, her smile unchanged, her tone still as gentle as morning tea.

"That we were able to reach Three Rivers Fortress without incident is owed entirely to Your Highness securing this transit node ahead of us. House Eisenberg has been charged by royal order with assuming responsibility for the ongoing supply lines, camp expansion, distribution, and long-range transport connections from here forward. We ask for Your Highness's patience and cooperation." That was beautifully said. Too beautifully said. Beautiful enough that nearly every word translated to: You got here first.

Well done. I'll be taking over the actual operations from here on out. There was no way Ignicia hadn't heard exactly that. She leaned back slightly in her chair, red eyes lifting, her voice cool.

"Since you're here, see that you manage what you brought properly."

"Naturally." Olivia's reply came without a beat of hesitation.

"After all, ensuring the vanguard can fight without looking over their shoulders is exactly what the rear is meant to do." Standing off to the side, my brain had room for exactly two words. Here we go. Every line they traded could have been lifted straight into an official record — and underneath, the arm-wrestling had already begun. Making it worse, they were both, infuriatingly, flawlessly composed while doing it. This kind of scene, frankly speaking, was not good for anyone's health.

The worst part was that I was the one standing in the middle of it. Perhaps the tension on my face was a little too obvious, because Olivia suddenly tilted her head and glanced my way. There was even a faint trace of amusement in her eyes. As if to say: My lord, you look like you're having a difficult time. I crushed the instinct to take half a step back with both hands. No. Retreating now would be too undignified.

So I cleared my throat, forcibly dragging myself out of my current status as the tent's most useless decorative fixture.

"So—" I looked at Ignicia, then at Olivia.

"Since everyone's here, why don't we sit down and go over things?" The tent went quiet for half a heartbeat after the words left my mouth. Then Ignicia looked at me. Then Olivia looked at me. The content of those two looks could not have been more different. The first said: At least you remembered you have a mouth. The second said: My lord, you're rather endearing when you finally force yourself to speak up like this.... Fine. At least neither of them had thrown me out directly.

That was already more courtesy than I'd earned. I moved quickly, stepping aside to guide Olivia toward the table. The moment she sat down, the logistics apparatus she'd brought with her locked into Three Rivers Fortress's framework with the timing of something that had been counting down to this exact moment. Short, unhurried reports began filtering in from outside the tent.

"Eisenberg wagon column, third section, connected to south outer camp."

"Artillery corps moisture-control shelters relocated per updated manifest."

"Two additional night-lantern arrays installed at the river unloading points."

"Duplicate inner-city warehouse ledgers delivered to the clerk's desk."

"Outer perimeter cooking stations beginning redistribution." One after another. Short as knife cuts. But each one made something unmistakably clear: this wasn't just someone arriving. This was a new order, complete with its own teeth and bones, beginning to take over a portion of the fortress's breathing. Ignicia listened to the reports without any change in expression. Olivia, quietly and without ceremony, pulled off her gloves, set them at the edge of the table, and reached for the distribution chart.

"Then, Your Highness," she said softly.

"Where shall we begin?" I stood half a step behind and between them, watching the lamplight fall across maps, papers, and the overlapping shadows of two women's hands as they both reached for the table at once, and felt a very clear premonition settle over me. Three Rivers Fortress was about to become unbelievably, absurdly busy. And I— was probably never going to see another quiet day again.