Lupa, the Iron Fenrir herself, lay at my feet, her glowing eyes fixed on the Grand Duke, unblinking, watching.
The Grand Duke swallowed. Loudly. Then, he began to read.
"I, Grand Duke Alaric von Teutonica, sovereign ruler of the Teutonica Ducatum, do hereby acknowledge, before the Imperator of Spartanum Ducatum and the gathered dignitaries of the world, the total and unconditional surrender of the Teutonica Armed Forces..."
His voice wavered. A pause. He inhaled shakily, then continued.
"...I further recognize the reunification of Teutonica Ducatum and Spartanum Ducatum into one nation, henceforth to be known as the greater Spartanum Ducatum."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the journalists and ambassadors. Some scribbled notes furiously, others simply watched, their faces blank masks hiding their thoughts.
The Gunderian and Poliarian ambassadors sat among them, their expressions unreadable, but their narrowed eyes told me everything. The Grand Duke continued.
"...As per the agreement, I shall retain my title as Grand Duke, though it shall not be passed to my heirs. Instead, I shall serve as Governor of the Teutonica ducatum, swearing eternal loyalty to the Imperator, the rightful ruler of the Imperium, and recognizing his absolute authority over all matters of governance, military, and law."
Another pause. The flashes of cameras intensified. The Grand Duke's hands tightened on the paper, his knuckles turning white.
He knew what this meant. In the eyes of the world, he would still be Grand Duke. A figurehead. A respected noble.
But in reality? A puppet. A mere extension of my will.
If he dared to step out of line, if he even considered rebelling, my Cerberus field agents, disguised as palace maids, guards, and servants, would slit his throat before he could draw his next breath.
He knew this. And that was why he was sweating through his uniform. Finally, the speech was done. The room remained silent.
Then, with deliberate slowness, I stepped forward. The Grand Duke turned to face me, forcing a smile.
For the cameras. For the people watching. For the illusion that he had willingly accepted this fate. We extended our hands.
The flash of cameras became a blinding storm. Our hands met, firm, unyielding. The journalists exploded with questions.
"Grand Duke, how do you feel about the reunification?""Imperator, what are your plans for the newly unified Imperium?""Does this mean an end to hostilities between Teutonica and Spartanum?"
Neither of us answered. Instead, I smiled, that calculated, practiced smile that politicians and generals wore in victory.
The Grand Duke did the same. Then, with exaggerated enthusiasm, I patted him on the back. Another roar of camera shutters.
Then, for one final act, I pulled him into a brief, firm embrace. A display of unity. A lie. But one that the world would eat up like starving dogs.
As the journalists continued scribbling, as the world saw what it wanted to see, the Grand Duke leaned in, just close enough for only me to hear.
His voice was a whisper of barely contained rage.
"...Can I still drink and f*ck as much as I want?"
I chuckled, my hand still on his shoulder, as if we were old friends.
"Sure Alaric."
My voice was low, amused.
"Thats as long as you do exactly what I say."
His body Immediattly relaxed, If he could still f*ck and drink to his heart content, then It seemed like It wasnt so bad of a deal, after all he barely did any governance anyway.
"Yes big brother, oh I mean my Imperator"
I finally pulled back, grinning.
"Thats more like It little brother."
...
I tugged at the buttons of my crimson long sleeved T-shirt, the fabric clung to my bulky and ripped chest, emphasizing the contours of my muscles.
As I adjusted the fit, the door creaked open slightly, and a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Imperator, Miss Lucilia is here."
Zero Four's tone was as neutral as ever, yet the mere mention of her name was enough to make me pause. I left the last few buttons undone, turning around with a smirk.
"Let her in,"
I said, walking toward the mini bar. The clink of glass against wood filled the silence as I poured myself a drink, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow sip.
The soft click of boots against the marble floor signaled Lucilia's entrance. She halted three steps away, standing at attention out of habit, her sharp gaze cautious as always.
"You called Imperator?"
She asked.
"Yeah..."
I drawled, turning arround and leaning lazily against the table, watching her over the rim of my glass.
I gestured lazily toward the ornate box placed beside the dressing screen, the kind you'd find in the chambers of medieval royalty.
"Try it on."
Lucilia's brows furrowed In confusion.
"Try what Imperator?"
She asked as she stepped toward the box, her gloved fingers tracing the intricate gold embroidery of the boxes top, only to see a deep purple fabric after removing the lid. Her emerald eyes flickered between the dress and me, cautious.
"This…?"
She murmured, lifting the gown slightly as if to examine its weight. I took another sip, my lips curling into an amused grin.
"It's not what you're thinking."
She turned her head slightly, skepticism flashing across her face.
"I need a date."
I shrugged, setting my glass down.
"The high, and mighty female vultures of Teutonica won't leave me alone this night, and you're the perfect fit to keep them at bay."
Lucilia blinked at me, her grip on the dress tightening.
"T... this... Imperator but Im an ex w..."
The moment she was about to call herself that, I snapped her off.
"So what?"
I asked my voice low as I looked straight at her eyes, seeing that she lowered her eyes avoiding her gaze I spoke up again.
"Lucilia who am I?"
I asked as I stood up while placing my glass on the table and took a step forward.
"Youre the Imperator"
She answered slightly raising her gaze.
"Then if I say that youre gona be my date tonight..."
I continued as I narrowed the distance between us.
"... then you are going to be my date and If anyone disagrees with It well..."
I said as I raised her chin with my Index finger as I looked down on the 160 centimeters tall woman.
"... Its been a while since reaper tasted blood."
I finished by glancing at my greatsword reaper resting against the table.
Lucilia inhaled sharply but said nothing at first. Then, as if making a decision, she exhaled through her nose and gave me a measured look.
"I see..."
Without another word, she grabbed the box and moved toward the dressing screen to change.
I returned to my drink, swirling the liquid in my glass, savoring its warmth as It traveled down my throat.
The silence was comfortable, interrupted only by the faint rustling of fabric as Lucilia changed. Then a low growl rumbled from the side of the room. I turned my head, meeting the sharp golden eyes of Lupa.
"What?"
I asked, quirking a brow. The massive xeno wolf snorted and rolled her eyes at my dramatics.
Hmph! I'll see how you're going to beg for some scratching later.
I snorted in my mind. The moment I did, I saw Lupa tilt her head and stare at me with those large, guilt inducing puppy eyes.
What the...? I don't remember giving her any telepathic abilities.
I shook my head, choosing to ignore the strange moment, and refocused my gaze on the changing screen where Lucilia's silhouette moved behind the veil of fabric.
Lucilia hesitated before stepping out from behind the dressing screen, her fingers fidgeting slightly at the smooth, high end fabric.
The deep purple gown draped over her form like liquid silk, shimmering under the warm candlelight.
Gold embroidery traced elegant patterns along the bodice, hugging her curves before cascading down her waist and hips.
The slit along the side of the dress revealed her long, toned leg, accentuated further by the golden heels that clicked softly against the polished marble floor.
Her golden blonde hair, usually tied up in a strict military style, now flowed freely in soft waves, framing her face and resting against her bare shoulders.
A matching purple ribbon adorned her locks, complementing the regal ensemble. She held herself stiffly, clearly unused to such extravagant clothing, and her emerald eyes flickered between me and the floor, unsure of how to react.
I leaned back against the table, swirling my drink as I took in the sight before me. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.
"Well, well,"
I murmured, tilting my head slightly.
"Not bad at all."
Lucilia frowned, shifting uncomfortably.
"This feels... strange,"
She admitted, her voice lower than usual.
"I'm not used to..."
She gestured to herself, the fabric rustling slightly with the movement. I chuckled, taking a slow sip of my drink before setting the glass down.
"Then Its time you get used to It"
I said.
"Afterall youre the secretary of an Imperator."