The soldiers followed his order. Ferbien raised his eyebrows at the words that came from the woman’s mouth once she could breathe freely.

“Why, why are you here……”

The prisoner’s gaze was fixed on the face of the man who had been speaking with him until now. Though she was on her knees, her desperate writhing to get away from him in any direction was pitiable.

Ferbien asked the man.

“You know each other? Well, you are from Treven after all.”

“I know her all too well. Your Highness, might I make a request?”

“I’ll hear it and think about it.”

“I want to take that woman to my tent.”

William’s eyes rolled back wildly as he looked at Celian. 

 * * *

 Four days had passed, but no proposal came from the enemy to negotiate over Celian.

The heavy snow had significantly slowed the march on both sides. The friendly forces’ situation was slightly better, if only due to higher morale.

In front of a tree where snow had accumulated finger-thick, Jade appeared beside the standing Izer. With a sandwich in his mouth, he held out another to Izer.

“Eat, Second Lieutenant Chesterfield.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The hand opening the sandwich he had taken indifferently was trembling. Jade clicked his tongue and took the sandwich back. Soon the unwrapped cold sandwich returned to Izer.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes.”

“You know when I say ‘sleep,’ I mean more than three hours.”

“Then no, I didn’t.”

Izer’s eyes were fixed far away on the enemy camp’s tents where smoke was rising. The distance between the two camps had narrowed considerably during their march.

“I’m ashamed. I’ve only caused harm by mismanaging the household.”

“No one thinks that.”

If Izer hadn’t joined the war, Celian would never have gone to Porchmen, and she wouldn’t have been kidnapped by the enemy. That was the decisive reason why the higher-ups were being careful around Izer.

Because most of them had hoped for Izer Chesterfield’s participation in the war.

“I wonder how long the General will delay operations. It seems like we could wage a full-scale battle at this distance.”

“It’s not just because of your wife. The biggest factor is the weather, and you heard what the scouts said. Internal factions are divided and things are unsettled. We need to strike when they’re most confused.”

“And my wife is contributing to that unrest. Because Letters isn’t ‘sharing’ her with the other officers.”

“……”

While Treven kept quiet about Celian’s kidnapping, Letters’ side was the opposite.

They were initially excited about capturing Marcotti Berienne’s daughter, then about the prisoner being the Duchess Chesterfield.

Above all, they applauded that the woman was kept in Grand Duke Letters’ tent. The s*x-starved soldiers imagined her position under their lord every night, pressed their ears against the tent, got erections, and m*sturbated.

Izer heard the scouts’ reports directly. Despite the soldiers’ efforts to filter their words, Izer wanted to hear everything.

He even urged them to find out the names and positions of the bastards who said those things. While listening to the filthy talk those soon-to-die beasts shared about his wife, he bit his nails until they bled and smoked cigarettes he’d never touched before.

Meanwhile, reports came in of Winston being seen near Letters’ tent.

“I should have killed him when he was in Treven.”

“……”

“What was I thinking, letting him cross the border just because he claimed he’d live cleanly.”

Winston had been forgiven by Renéee before. As her son, he had ended it with exile, thinking that hurting Winston further would be an insult to Renéee’s decision—now he wanted to tear apart and kill his past self.

Jade, who had been hesitating, carefully corrected his words.

“Winston needs to be captured alive. His Highness said he has something to ask of him. Though I completely understand your anger towards him, even if you get the chance to kill him……”

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill him easily.”

“……Get some sleep, I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“It’s not even noon yet. You should go in, Captain.”

Early winter sunlight poured over Izer’s face as he was left alone.

General Schwenn, though apologetic to Izer, was reluctant to carry out a hasty rescue operation. The problem was that Celian was known to be in Letters’ tent. It would be impossible without a massive operation capable of killing the enemy commander.

He wanted to storm the enemy camp alone. Dozens of times a day, no, during all his hours including sleep, he imagined rescuing Celian.

In the tent he shared with Jade, papers lay scattered showing the enemy camp’s structure and Letters’ tent location, based on what they’d heard from scouts. Which was the most efficient route to enter the Grand Duke’s tent, how to move by the hour to hide in shadows……

Dozens of unexecuted operations were drawn, burned, drawn again, and burned again. Meanwhile, he didn’t breathe a word about his kidnapped wife to anyone except Jade.

Unable to stand by, Jade went directly to General Schwenn, but he only clutched his head and answered that for now, they could only aim for one decisive strike.

He rubbed his face, which was dry and rough. He couldn’t remember when he’d last shaved. Celian would probably sigh if she saw him.

When he was in his teens, there was a day when Celian stood on her tiptoes, grabbed his cheeks, and exclaimed.

‘What’s with the scratches on this handsome face!’

‘People can hear you, Miss.’

‘Who did this? I’ll beat them all up.’

‘Father was just teaching me how to shave……’

‘……I take back the beating. Should I learn and do it for you?’

‘That’s dangerous. I’ll become skilled at it myself.’

If he’d known this would happen, he should have taught her how to shave back then. Then she could have slit all their throats while pretending to offer the courtesy of a shave.

You always exceeded my expectations. You might have been capable of it……

Cigarette smoke rose into the air. 

 * * *

 One blanket spread on the dirt floor and one fur coverlet—that was Celian’s place.

The first day she was brought in, when Celian nearly fainted at the sight of shackles, Ferbien shrugged and removed them. The area was full of soldiers anyway, and she seemed to know the tent was the safest place.

Instead, Ferbien connected Celian’s ankle to the tent pole with a thick rope and turned away with these words.

‘I don’t prefer taking civilians as prisoners. Sir Winston did this on his own.’

‘……’

‘I can’t just throw you anywhere in the camp. Not all soldiers follow my control. It’s regrettable that the enemy commander’s tent has become the safest place for you, but bear with it for now.’

‘……Until when?’

‘Until we get negotiation terms we like. You can be proud of your husband. Second Lieutenant Chesterfield is a threat to us. As long as you’re here, he won’t be able to make bold moves.’

Voices were heard outside. Celian, who had been trying to untie the rope around her ankle, gave up and curled into herself.

Ferbien entered through the fluttering waterproof canvas, confirmed Celian was in place, and immediately turned around. As he removed his jacket, Celian spoke softly.

“You must be tired.”

It had been exactly a week since their strange cohabitation began. Though she could guess what people were saying outside, Grand Duke Letters actually treated her quite gentlemanly.

Although one ankle was bound and she slept on the floor, it was quite decent treatment for a prisoner.

Ferbien gruffly asked back.

“Are you consoling me? Have you forgotten who’s responsible for your husband being on the battlefield?”

“You keep having meetings elsewhere because of me. Instead of in Your Highness’s tent.”

She was a burden in the commander’s tent where security should be tightest. Ferbien hung his jacket on a chair.

“No fool would discuss tactics in front of you. The leadership agreed to this.”

“You speak as if I might act as a spy.”

“You are Marcotti Berienne’s daughter after all.”

Celian swallowed at the name that came out so casually. Seeing her face turn pale, Ferbien continued speaking his piece stoically.

“You must have learned something watching your father. Caution is a virtue for a leader. Information leaks must be prevented at all costs.”

“You, how dare you……”

“Marcotti Berienne was an excellent general.”

Celian jumped up in an instant. The rope around her ankle went taut.

Of course, she was subdued too easily. Bent over the desk with her arms twisted behind her, the woman cursed and struggled.

“How dare you speak my father’s name!”

Who was Ferbien Letters? He was the general who led the past Treven-Fairville war. The period that would be recorded in history as the war between James III and Ferdinand II was, in reality, the battle between Marcotti Berienne and Ferbien Letters.

Ferbien’s voice came from above her.

“But he failed to catch the rat. That was General Berienne’s only mistake.”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

Celian, who had been breathing heavily, widened her eyes. Between her previously numb b*ttocks, she felt something hard. Looking down at her as she suddenly froze, Ferbien sighed.

“I’m a man too. This is quite provocative.”

“……!”

The rough hands started lifting her skirt. Celian screamed and struggled, but in terms of strength, Ferbien was far superior to even Izer.

Hot tears streamed down her eyes filled with humiliation. She had forgotten, fooled by his gentlemanly demeanor. This man was the enemy who had caused her father’s death. Now he had driven Izer into a death trap. Rather than giving satisfaction to such a person, it would be better to bite her tongue and die now…….

The hands holding her suddenly lost their strength. Simultaneously, hot liquid poured down her back.