"Your battalion has the strength of a brigade, with Baron Kyle at the helm. Even the brigadier is just a knight serving under him as a captain. If you want to climb higher, you'll need to please the Baron. Promotions, rewards—aren't they all within his power to grant?" Chassie said, her tone carrying a hint of shrewdness.
"So, you mean I should curry favor with Young Master Soren? He's the Baron's eldest son, likely the future heir to the barony. If I align myself with him now, while others are still hesitant, I might earn his trust and be cultivated as one of his own." Caesar's eyes lit up with realization as he connected the dots.
"Exactly. From what you've described, the power structure in your camp revolves around the Baron, the First Captain, and Young Master Soren. Since the Baron and First Captain aren't directly involved in the lieutenant captain election, your best bet is to attach yourself to Soren. Honestly, I suspect this whole election might be a way for the Baron to build a loyal team specifically for his son."
Chassie's insight cut straight to the core of the matter. Caesar had once overheard Warner joking about the possible merger of the third and fourth squadrons into one cohesive unit. He hadn't taken it seriously then, but Chassie's analysis made it seem all too plausible. If a new squadron was established, who would lead it? And wouldn't such a blank slate be the perfect platform for Young Master Soren to train his own loyalists?
The realization struck Caesar like lightning. Overcome with excitement, he pulled Chassie into a kiss and eagerly shared the gossip he'd heard about the potential squadron merger. Chassie only nodded, her conviction growing stronger.
"But why would the Baron begin building Soren's team so early? Isn't it the second son who's currently managing the territory back home?" Caesar asked, still puzzled.
"Why bother with questions you can't answer? What matters is securing our future." Chassie gave him a playful glare. "Your job is to climb higher, Caesar, so we can both have better lives."
Chassie was sharp and practical, but she was still a commoner. While she had an astute grasp of people and their ambitions, the intricate politics of nobles remained beyond her reach—and perhaps she was wise not to dwell too much on such matters.
For Caesar, her words struck a deep chord. He had no grand ambitions beyond ensuring a stable life for himself and Chassie. Her use of the word "we" touched him deeply, and he hugged her tightly. "Our future will be bright, I promise."
The next morning, Caesar woke up with the sunrise, feeling both physically and emotionally invigorated after an intimate night with Chassie. Slapping his face lightly to shake off any lingering drowsiness, he strode confidently towards the barracks.
The two had decided on their approach the night before: Caesar would seek an audience with Young Master Soren and present him with a modest yet sincere gift. Chassie had insisted that the gift shouldn't be extravagant—it should match Caesar's status as a squad captain, something humble but thoughtful.
They settled on two bottles of the fine ale Caesar had shared with Uncle York. Chassie had only a few bottles left, as brewing more would require raw materials they didn't currently have. It was a simple gift, but one that carried warmth and sincerity.
When Caesar returned to his squad's tent, the place was already buzzing with noise and chaotic energy. Young Peter, a sharp-eyed archer and Jon's loyal follower, was on duty at the entrance.
"Brother Caesar! You're back!" Peter called out excitedly, startling Caesar. With a wry smirk, Caesar walked past him into the tent.
"I bet Brother Caesar was still tangled up with that tavern owner's wife last night…" Jon's boisterous voice carried across the tent, his back turned towards the entrance as he animatedly mimed his tale to the others.
Caesar crept up behind Jon silently. The room's atmosphere shifted as the others caught sight of their captain, their amused expressions freezing in place. Jon, ever the scout, picked up on the change and dove forward just as Caesar's leg swept out in an attempt to trip him. He rolled sideways with the agility of a seasoned rogue, narrowly avoiding Caesar's follow-up stomp.
"Alright, alright, I yield! I was just messing around!" Jon said with a sheepish grin, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"Hmph, lucky you dodged." Caesar smirked, letting the matter drop.
Straightening up, Caesar addressed his men. "Yoder, after training, take Phil and a few others to the Green Palm Tavern. Keep things under control there."
The order wasn't lost on the squad. For a mere squad captain to send men into town to 'maintain order' was a bold move, hinting at Caesar's growing confidence and ambition. It also suggested a change was on the horizon—perhaps a mission or relocation. The men exchanged knowing glances but kept their thoughts to themselves.
More importantly, Caesar's order to protect the tavern indirectly revealed his personal ties with Chassie. The men understood the unspoken message: their captain was placing trust in them to guard someone important to him.
By mid-afternoon, Caesar found himself standing outside Young Master Soren's tent. Two full squads guarded the perimeter—an impressive show of force. After passing a routine inspection, Caesar handed over his message to one of the guards and waited patiently.
When permission was granted, Caesar straightened his uniform, adjusted the bottles of ale in his hands, and stepped inside.
This was his first time meeting Soren up close. Caesar had always respected the young noble for his approachable demeanor and battlefield prowess. Unlike many nobles, Soren fought alongside his men and treated them with dignity.
But Caesar also knew one thing: Soren wasn't just any noble. He was a trained fighter who possessed the mysterious combat energy only nobles seemed to have access to. Despite Caesar's own hard-earned strength from years of bloodshed and survival, he knew he was at best evenly matched with Soren.
Yet, this meeting wasn't about strength—it was about loyalty, sincerity, and seizing an opportunity. With his shoulders squared and his head held high, Caesar stepped forward to greet Young Master Soren.