What are you talking about?
Suddenly, my throat muscles contract, expelling the sweet tea.
Merango, what are you doing?
Saving you, idiot!
"Oh goodness!" Prince Pierre rushes from his seat. "What happened?"
"I ...."
Drats, how am I supposed to explain this?
Prince Pierre, out of nowhere, picks up my cup of tea and takes a small sip before spitting it right back. "Poison!" he barks.
A few guards and medics immediately enter the scene. "Have this cup of tea analyzed," he orders. "Are you fine?"
I nod weakly. "Yes."
"I'm back ... Vio! What happened?"
"Poisoned tea," Prince Pierre says.
"I'll take care of her," Madam Fron says as the guards escort the maid away.
"I'm fine," I say firmly. "I spat it out."
We hurry off to a five star hotel, its fees paid for by Elaise. "This is a popular hotel for diplomats," she says. "I knew you'd be poisoned one day, but I don't expect it to be so soon."
"What? You expect me to be poisoned?"
"Common assassination tactic. The Order's members have been on the giving and receiving end multiple times."
Well, this is the life I have chosen-fighting demons and drinking poisoned tea.
"The King seems to be quite impressed by you," Madam Fron continues. "I heard he wants to give you command of an army."
"I'm an Imperial Guard, not an officer," I say quickly. I was briefly trained to lead armies during my Imperial Guard training; but I have never commanded one.
Madam Fron shrugs. "We'll see about that."
We rest for a few hours in the room. Then, Madam Fron takes me to another hotel room, where the two diplomats are waiting.
"How's the situation?" Madam Fron asks. "We have to at least send something to honor the agreement. Erwing's Western Fleet is available, isn't it?"
"It isn't," Mr Piedmont says, ferociously shaking his head. "There is a Purist uprising in the northern parts of Erwing."
"The Purists ...," I mutter. I still remember the mob of thousands of fanatical protesters when I was in Erwing.
"Yes. Dame Luna has set out north to face them and she has ordered the Royal Navy to bombard coastal holdings."
"I'll see if the Irvinian Navy can spare any vessels," Mr Isabelle says.
"Alright," Madam Fron says while letting out a sigh. "Vio, let's go."
"Where to?"
"You will see."
And the next thing I know, I am in an armored carriage with an aide. "Alright, let me recount the events," I say, attempting to recall the flurry of orders that the Elaise High Command has issued chaotically. "I must lead the left flank?"
Leon, a minor nobleman and my personal aide, nods his head enthusiastically. "It's not a complex order. Just march the army west and fall on the enemy's right flank."
"Hmm."
So the enemy's main army is attacking the Imperial Palace, and Elaise's plan is to face them head on. Allow the left flank to be undermanned and bait them to attack there, then I will sweep in with my army and envelop the enemy's right flank.
If this isn't complex, I don't know what is.
I sigh. "I'll see what I can do."
"Don't worry about that. Dwarves respect you."
"Huh?"
"Us dwarves respect the no-nonsense kind of people. We were awed when we heard Lord Eugene were killed by you," the aide says. He lowers his voice. "Sometimes humans could be too soft by our standards."
"It was the Twelfth."
"You led it."
I arrive to lead a well-trained and disciplined army. A hundred thousand dwarves and a hundred thousand men, all mechanized. They are supplemented by hundreds of combat tanks and pieces of mobile artillery.
We move out to the west along Elaise's well-paved roads and grassy plains. I send out undead ravens to scout the area ahead; their eyes are connected to mine. Many fly into the skies, yet only one come back with peculiar information.
"Enemy movement some ten kilometres from here?" I whisper. "Sir Leon, order the army to slow down its marching speed by half. Send in scouts to the north."
"Yes, Ms Vonville."
I pop my head out of the tank I am in, and I see confused men and dwarves. But their discipline marches on, following orders. With a series of steep hills in front of us, they encircle them. The scouts have returned.
"They are moving here?" I gasp as they report to me, "how many of them are there?"
Did we just catch the enemy's rearguard? Or is it a fresh army High Command does not know?
"Some 800,000 dwarves and 400,000 demons, as we overheard from their officers. The King's brother was there."
1,2 million troops with the King's brother, the leader of the rebels? Then there could only be one possibility.
"Miss Vonville, if the rebel leader is there, then ...."
"Yes, Sir Leon. Order this army to take positions in the high grounds," I say. "And overheat our radios if you have to, but tell the High Command we're facing the entire rebel army!"
I can't panic. I have to stay calm.
Neither me nor my army flinch. I summon thousands of animated skeletons to help dig trenches and carry artillery pieces. In an hour, most of our baggage and troops and equipment have been positioned defensively on the hills.
And they have come.
Swarms of infantrymen, supported by hordes of armored vehicles. Mechanical dragons fly in the skies, casting shadow upon the plains below.
A demon and a dwarf, riding a horse each, approach with a green flag. I immediately grab my speaker.
"We demand your sur-"
"Fuck off!" I shout, to the cheers of my men. "Come and die here, bastards!"
Sir Leon looks at me with shock and disbelief, his mouth hanging. "You have my respect, young lady."
"Begin the barrage, Sir Leon," I order as the enemy advance.
Frontal assault, huh? They probably wanted to annihilate my army before turning against the main one.
Then we just have to hold the ground until the main army arrive.
I raise my arms. I shout to the loudspeaker.
"Not a step back!"