Chapter 3
“Greet your commander!” roared a soldier.
The soldiers, including those with their wounds tightly wrapped in bandages, promptly straightened their ranks and saluted the approaching figure. It was the first time that Chloe was seeing the commander, having dedicated her time to caring for the wounded in the barracks. The tall, blond man was so impeccably dressed that one might have assumed he had just emerged from a royal function at the palace. Chloe parted the curtains a touch wider for a clearer view, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“Earlier today, I received news of the passing of the First Army’s commander,” the man announced.
A hush descended over the usually boisterous soldiers, the faint chirping of a cuckoo the only sound that punctured the silence.
“As you all know, the commander of the First Army was my father, Duke Wilhelm von Thisse.”
Chloe caught her breath, then exhaled quietly. She felt her hand twitch as she clutched the curtain.
“He was beheaded by the enemy, who has chosen to display his head on their castle walls.” The commander’s voice did not waver as he described his father’s grisly demise.
Chloe marveled at the composure of this man who had assumed command during the five-year war and who, at twenty-two years old, was just three years her senior. She waited for his next words with bated breath.
The commander turned to one of his soldiers. “You there. Do you wish to return home?”
Startled, the soldier hesitated without answering. The commander stepped closer.
“It does not seem like you do.”
“N-No, sir! I do!” the soldier stammered.
“Why is that?”
“My wife was with child when I left for the war. She gave birth without me by her side, and I wish for nothing more than to see my son!”
“I see.” The commander turned to another soldier. “And you, do you wish to return home as well?”
“Yes, sir!”
“And the reason?”
“I worry for my mother, whom I had to leave sick and alone at home. She cannot walk without my help.”
“I must work to support my young brother so he doesn’t starve!” another soldier declared.
Hearing the anguish overflowing in the men’s voices, Chloe felt her eyes grow moist. After listening to the last soldier’s answer, the commander spoke once again. “As you can see, there are countless reasons why we must end this war and return to our homes. I am no exception. I have had to bear arms without being able to recover my father’s body, let alone hold a funeral to put him to rest.”
The soldiers inhaled sharply, as though suppressing their tears.
“In two days’ time, we will traverse the mountains once more. We will be weary, wounded, cold, and hungry, but we will press on. Are we doing this for our nation? No! It is to protect those we hold dear!”
Chloe sensed the commander’s words reverberating through the entire castle. She laid a hand on her chest. Her heart was beating loudly, a testament to the power of his speech.
“Do you yearn for home?” the commander shouted.
“Yes!” the soldiers responded in unison.
“How desperately do you wish for it?”
“So desperately, sir, that I’d give my life for it!” cried the youngest-looking soldier, raising his bandaged arm. Tears stained his face.
“It is not through God’s will that a war is won or lost. If we are defeated, it will mean only one thing! That they longed for victory more desperately than we did!”
“We will not let that come to pass!” the soldiers roared, their voices ringing throughout the grounds.
“I refuse to back down, nor will I allow my soldiers to taste defeat. In honor of my late father, I shall raise another flag of victory for House Thisse. Not for my country, but for myself alone!”
His words were a dangerous proclamation for the commander of the Royal Army to make, but no one dared challenge him. There was an undeniable fire in his eyes and conviction in his voice.
“No commander is more capable than I. I have proven this time and time again, and I shall continue to do so. I shall do everything in my power to lead my soldiers to victory, for this is a matter of House Thisse’s pride and dignity. Now, it falls upon all of you to transform the desperation and longing you’ve displayed into action!”
The mood among the soldiers had transformed in an instant. Eyes once filled with despair and resignation now shone with determination. The garden resounded with voices pledging their allegiance.
What a captivating speaker. Chloe had read about the importance of a leader’s oratory skills in books, but she had never witnessed it in action. One thing became clear to her—the man possessed a fiery passion.
A flush of warmth spread across Chloe’s pale cheeks. Before she knew it, she had pulled back the curtains and opened the windows, her attention fully claimed by the man rallying his troops below.
“Let us return home bearing the banner of victory! The people will praise our hard-earned triumph, and your families will bask in the glory for generations, as shall mine!”
“Hurrah!”
The soldiers raised their fists as they chanted their leader’s name. Chloe watched as the commander slowly turned his head, making eye contact with each soldier. And then…
“Oh!”
He looked directly at her, as though he had been aware of her presence all along. Startled, she stepped back from the window. Leaning against the wall beside the window, she took deep breaths. It was only then that she noticed the lamp still burning on the table. She bit her lip in consternation.
It was obvious that the brightly lit room would have been conspicuous in the darkness outside. Chloe stretched out her arms to draw the curtains closed before limping over to the table to extinguish the lamp. Even as darkness enveloped the room, her heart continued to race. She lowered herself onto the bed cautiously, first hoisting her sound leg up before using her arm to lift her disabled right leg. Then, she reclined on the bed, her thin, pitiful leg visible through her rumpled poplin nightgown.
Chloe adjusted her dress and blinked in the darkness. She could hear the lively commotion of the soldiers outside, their voices growing louder as someone delivered their evening meal.
Damien Ernst von Thisse. What an extraordinary man.
That was Chloe’s first impression of the commander. His unyielding composure, even in the face of adversity, and the magnetic sway he held over his audience were awe-inspiring. Chloe wondered if she could ever exhibit such strength after hearing of her father’s passing. The mere thought of losing him sent a chill down her spine.
Chloe closed her eyes, but sleep eluded her. Finally, she decided to sit up. She could still hear the crackle of the bonfire and the soldiers’ chatter outside. The commander had likely returned to the barracks, deep in thought about how to fulfill the promises he had made.
Although the evening prayer had long since concluded, Chloe clasped her hands together once more. “Please, grant us victory. Please allow those soldiers to return home so they may look after their loved ones.”
* * *
Chloe awoke with a light heart early the following day. As she parted the curtains and looked outside, she was greeted by the sight of a clear, blue sky. The color of the dawn sky was Chloe’s favorite, offering a hint of light within the surrounding darkness. On particularly clear mornings, the sky would sometimes take on a breathtaking periwinkle shade that left her spellbound and gazing in awe.
Chloe dressed herself as usual and hurried out of her room. It was best to move quickly, for complications might arise once Marie, the head housemaid, woke up. Chloe stealthily made her way past the maids’ quarters near the stairs, where the weary servants were still sound asleep, and navigated her way through the kitchen before exiting the castle. Since the soldiers were occupying the barracks, she decided to take the path adjacent to the stables.
“Lady Chloe,” Gilles called out, noticing her from near the stables.
Chester had brought him, a mistreated child from the market, into their household so long ago that Chloe could barely remember it. If Gilles had any shortcomings, they were his reserved nature and his habit of rising before everyone else.
“Good morning, Gilles.”
“What brings you to the forest so early in the morning?”
“I’m going to gather some medicinal herbs.”
“Herbs, my lady? I can procure them for you.” Gilles offered politely. Gone were the days when he had addressed her as an equal, earning him an earful from Chester. He now treated her with the courtesy expected of a servant.
“And whatever shall we do if you end up picking the leaves of silver bell flowers again?”
Gilles blushed, recalling the time he had mistaken poisonous herbs for medicinal ones. “I’ve learned my lesson.”
“I’ll feel more at ease if I gather them myself, Gilles.”
“That may be true, but it isn’t safe. Besides, the air is much too cold.”
Chloe cleared her throat as she studied Gilles, who wore a look of concern. This was precisely why she preferred to slip out early while the rest of the household was asleep. The servants tended to be overly protective of her, given her delicate disposition—especially the dark-eyed youth standing before her.
“Gilles, have you completed the assignment I gave you?”
“Yes,” Gilles answered after a short pause. “I have.”
Chloe’s gaze fell upon the vest he was wearing, which had once belonged to Chester. Seeing how the vest that used to drape past Gilles’s waist now covered his tall, lanky frame, Chloe felt a pang of envy. Both Gilles and Alice, who were close in age, seemed to grow taller with each passing day, like saplings reaching for the sky.
“Would you like to see my work?” Gilles asked.
“No, that’s all right. But I could test you on it.”
Gilles blushed deeply and remained silent, avoiding her gaze as if he lacked the confidence for a test. As Chloe passed him, she silently apologized. She knew that if she delayed any longer, dawn would break, and she would be far more likely to be noticed.
“I must be on my way. Remember, Gilles, not a word of this to anyone else.”