Unrequited Love and the Two-Faced Rats

Chapter 1

"Colonel (L.Name)! The Brigadier General wishes to speak with you!" a disembodied voice rings out from behind the stacks of paper on my desk, the sound of cloth shifting alerting me to the saluting status of my subordinate. I sigh and begrudgingly pull myself away from the mounds of paperwork before me. 'I was hoping to get back into my quarters before nightfall, try to get a decent night of sleep for once. So of course the General wants to talk to me.'

"Understood. Continue working on this paperwork for me while I'm gone, would you, Lt. Hawtrey? It's all just admission forms from the cadet trainees. I want you to only look at the ones that were specifically recommended by the Corporal." I get up and leave the room, heading for the General's office.

"Yes ma'am!"

~~~~

"Colonel (Name) (L.Name) reporting in, sir," I quickly salute as I walk into Brigadier General Amor Westbrook's office. The familiar smell of cigarette smoke and honey wafts into my face as the General turns from his window to greet me, his long, deep red mahogany hair smoothly adjusting to frame his white porcelain face as he turns to the door. His golden eyes curve with minor amusement at my entrance. His eyes and hair color were unnatural in this country, a clear symbol that he's a foreigner in these lands. 

Though he may have been born as a foreigner, he certainly has quite the reputation to his name. He managed to work his way to the top through mysterious means that have been snuffed and buried in the catacombs of history; among the lower ranks of the military he's known as a man of an alluring, dangerous nature, the kind that pricks your arms with goosebumps before he even speaks. And with a voice as smooth as the sweet honey scent which follows him, he's able to charm his way into getting what he wants. There are a select few among the upper ranks who can recall General Westbrook in his early days, when he was fighting in the front lines with his hair cut short to military standards. They recall the sadistic glint in his eyes before battle and the countless ways he liked to toy with his targets while they were on their knees begging for mercy. These stories are few and far between, as the people who recall them tend to disappear after retelling them.

Westbrook's golden-rod eyes peered down at me with a warm fire in his eyes as he mentions for me to sit down. "My, look at how you've grown, Colonel (L.Name)~. I remember when you were but a small babe in your father's arms! And now here you are, at the prime age of 20 and already with so many accomplishments... Oh, you even have your own personal brigade!"

"General Westbrook, if you would get to the point already. I have no time to recount things I'm already aware of," my deadpan voice rings as I take a seat in front of his neat desk.

"Ah, fine, fine~" his warm demeanor shifts to stoicism as he rests his chin against the backside of his palm on his desk, scooting closer to the edge of his seat, "To get straight down to business, the temporary peace treaty has come to an end once again. The King continues to refuse aid from our allies, and instead he's deciding to antagonize them." I interject with a small sigh, realizing where this topic was going.

"So in essence, the king of Ducral has decided to declare a world war while the country's already bleeding out our resources from paying reparations. It simply wasn't enough to surrender and accept defeat against Steudan and Esmar. Now we have to go against Yoshailes as well..."

The General's eyes glimmer in a hidden smile, "I understand how you're feeling. Our glorious country has been at war with Steudan and Esmar for the past 1,000 years, and you've been heroically fighting for the cause your entire life. It's really such a shame that negotiations fell through again," His smile becomes warm again as he continues, "It must be so hard, having to go through this terrible war all by yourself."