Sovereign

"An unending struggle in vain. No matter which side you choose, no matter how little power you have, no matter how screwed you have always been - you're a man, and you are the enemy, and all the blame will be for you."

- Journal of a Gallian Restorationist General, sixty years after the Arcane Wars.

+++

A Colonel.

A Major.

And a Lieutenant Colonel.

When the Royal Guard knights removed their blindfolds and sent them to the empty negotiation room, they staggered to their seats after their baggage was tossed to them.

"Behave yourselves." One of the Knights, a woman in her thirties, coldly warned as she looked at the three. "Filthy rebels."

But the Colonel didn't flinch, even when he was still disoriented by their "hands-on" handling of him.

"Noted."

"Her Majesty is arriving soon."

She slammed the door after the rest of the Royal Guard contingent left. The Colonel noticed a slight glow in the wall when she left, indicating magic.

Of course, we're being watched.

He looked back at his fellow officers.

"Damn…she handled me rough, man. Felt like my ribs cracked." The Lieutenant Colonel complained. "Is this really how they handle diplomats, Colonel?"

"Don't kid yourself. We're not diplomats to them. We're cockroaches."

Colonel Simon Torvus sat down at one of the chairs as he checked his briefcase for the papers necessary for the negotiations. It wasn't exactly a pretty sight, as Defense Minister Heindhöff needed someone to talk directly to the Queen.

And the only way to do that was to be subjected to the abusive whims of the Royalists. As such, almost no one volunteered.

Except for the three of them.

Major Patrick Weiss, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Doria, and himself.

"Well, also, we're technically just Army officers. Mutinous Army officers. Shouldn't be a surprise." Major Weiss cracked a laugh as the three sat and checked their belongings.

It was mostly paper documents, folders, and files. Any and all weapons or electronics had been checked as they would be confiscated (and they didn't bring any with them). Not even mere radios would have passed through their security checks.

"So…are we sticking to the plan?" Lieutenant Colonel Doria asked as he fished another folder from his briefcase.

"Of course."

Their plan was to get the Queen talking and talking. They hoped that the temporary cessation of hostilities, alongside some 'amicable' gestures would strike her in her heart, and allow them to prepare for their planned offensive before winter arrives.

On their agenda were POW exchanges, humanitarian evacuations, and the possibility of "peaceful surrender". Of course, they weren't expecting her to agree to any of it, but the Grand Duchy campaign had been…draining to them.

At least in the short term.

While on most other fronts, the revolution was pushing the Royalists like a hot knife in butter (with reports stating that Thein herself already being in the sights of the Republican Army), the Royalist defense in the Grand Duchy (and even the Free Confederation for that matter) had been nothing but stalwart.

The force concentration of the Royalists around Halia, the quagmire around Heiflitz, the artillery strikes on the bridges and pontoon bridges on the Ludendorf River, and the stubborn defense south of the Free Confederation prevented full encirclement of Halia.

Not to mention, they feared that they didn't even have enough manpower (at the moment) to clear out the Royal Capital without pulling away troops from the simultaneously occurring offensive on the Archduchy of Löt and Duchy of Oldrach - both of which being important heartlands of Orland's magical industry.

"So…when is she going to arrive?" Asked Lieutenant Colonel Doria again.

"Who knows." Replied Colonel Torvus. "She's probably making us purposely wait."

The Major beside him laughed.

"Of course, she would. Gotta send the message to the peasant men of their place, after all."

"I would caution you two from being disrespectful to the Queen." Colonel Torvus declared. "Remember the mission. We will take a hardline approach, as the Defense Minister directed. But we shall send the message respectfully, as proper envoys would."

"I don't object to that." The Major replied.

"Good."

Suddenly, the door finally opened. Royal Guard Knights flooded the conference room, each armed with their Arcano Rifles, and some with advanced staffs and wands. Behind them, soldiers with a yellow armband - with the logo that said "16th" followed in, their faces obscured by the visors attached to their helmets.

And finally, Her Majesty herself. The Colonel noted her appearance, as she wore the same uniform in her televised address. Behind him was the same man during that address. He didn't have a helmet, but his uniform was the same as the soldiers of the "16th".

He recognized him. It was Major William Porter himself - head of the JTF-Ludendorf.

One of the Royal Guard Knights announced her arrival.

"Her Majesty is here! You three would do well to prostrate in her presence!"

Surprisingly, the young Queen giggled at her overenthusiastic Knight and told her to stand down.

"There's no need for that. We're just here to talk." She declared, and the Colonel's respect almost rose, if not for the fact that he noticed that the Queen's halo was subtly present.

Which indicated that she was passively casting spells, either to protect herself or to be ready to put the three down.

Normally, women developed sets of rules whenever envoys and diplomats met. No wands - no magic. It was decreed that when one discusses peace in the name of the Goddess, there was no point in offensive gestures that signaled hostility. Bringing a wand to a peace conference, after all, was akin to bringing an assault rifle as a diplomat.

But of course, being nothing but men, and worse - rebels, such rules of niceness didn't apply to them.

But…we're surrounded by armed troops anyway.

The three straightened themselves and stood up. The Colonel himself extended one of his hands at her.

"I am Colonel Simon Torvus of the 87th Republican Combined Arms Brigade. May this 'talk' be an eventful one then."

+++

Amelie looked down at the extended hands of the rebel Putschist before her.

Torvus?

That made her pause, and she looked back at the older face of this man, all as she remembered that young soldier outside with whom she had conversed.

Simon Torvus and Jon Torvus…are they perhaps related?

She took his hand and forced a smile for him.

"Well, Colonel Torvus, I'm quite optimistic that it would be a productive one."

"I appreciate that."

All of them took their seats, as she eyed the strange trio. These were the same rebels that were trying to overthrow her from the throne. The same men who did not trust her vision for the Kingdom - and burned it down.

Royalist war propaganda painted these men as savage brutes who did not care for the deaths of countless innocents, all for deranged gains.

Men that, many would say, were below human. Someone that you could not talk with, someone who merely barks as he tries to bite you, and shave off your skin.

She disapproved of these propaganda efforts, which she had no control over (as Aristocrats who controlled the media would say whatever they liked), but she sometimes felt…attracted to their slanderous accusations. It made her feel better at times, at sleeping at night.

The comfort of viewing the enemy you were killing, as someone who deserved death. It was something…nice.

But these three looked normal. Too normal for her. Unlike the almost deranged OIA agent she "interrogated", these three didn't have that burning, searing hatred against her. Sure, they looked resentful, but most of all, they all just looked tired.

"So…why are you…interested in these negotiations?" Amelie started, as she wanted to test the waters. These men's intentions weren't really pure, she knew that, but she wanted to know why they would go to such lengths to talk to her.

The identified Colonel Torvus shuffled a few documents from his files.

"We believe that this battle has been…quite costly for both of us. As such, we are hoping for the possibility to settle all of this peacefully. And perhaps, more than that. Maybe we can end this division of our nation peacefully as well."

"And how would that happen?"

"We believe that no proper negotiations can occur when one side holds…most of the cards to themselves. To pave for a proper peace settlement, the Provisional Government believes that…both sides must vacate the Grand Duchy and leave it under the auspices of a Joint Administration, that will facilitate the terms of proper reintegration of both sides, into a coalition government of sorts."

Amelie narrowed her eyes. Essentially, he wanted her out of the Royal Capital. Of course, both sides would vacate it, and officially, it would be administered "Jointly". But that was, to say the least, nonsense. She would have handed her symbolic throne to them.

And she would have handed the Grand Duchy to an untrustable entity. And a coalition government? Was the Provisional Government even serious?

There was no way that Her Majesty's Government (now based mostly in Eutstadt) and the Provisional Government could rule Orland as parallel governments - even if temporarily.

The truth was, one had to go. Only then was it possible to achieve peace.

"Colonel Torvus…it is an interesting proposition, and it may save countless lives and spare us from much bloodshed, but isn't that too much?"

"I believe the Royalist stance here is too much." He countered. "How can the Provisional Government trust the crown in peace negotiations if you cannot trust us in enforcing, what essentially amounts to a peaceful cessation of hostilities in the heart of our nation?"

He had a point. How could a peace treaty be signed if both sides couldn't even agree on an extended ceasefire? All it would take was one overly suspicious unit firing their guns, and suddenly a ceasefire violation leads to the lifting of a ceasefire agreement - and thus any chance of peace negotiations.

Not to mention, the revolutionaries believed in revolution. It wouldn't be so revolutionary if their own government allowed her - the enemy that these revolutionaries wanted out of power - to sit on her throne.

"Perhaps there are other terms we can discuss for now."

The Colonel looked at his fellow officers before he gave an extremely subtle sigh.

"I understand. Let us talk about the subject of POWs."

Amelie nodded in response. The subject of prisoners of war would be a good one. Perhaps it would aid in building some constructive communication between her side and the Putschists.

Not that it mattered, again, these men wanted her out. She wanted to be on her throne to enact her vision for Orland. It was a fundamental clash of interests that…would not really be solved by a diplomatic dance.

But, as William advised, she should dance with them for now. Tie them up to at least de-escalate for a while. A full peace was difficult, nearly impossible, and an outright delusional task for her to negotiate for at the moment.

But if she could get some beneficial deals while the ceasefire was ongoing (and perhaps extend it), like prisoner exchange and further civilian evacuations, it would aid her side a bit.

And the military aspect. Never forget that. The more we talk, the more time I can give for the OAF to fully relieve us.

"Alright, I believe your side holds…" Amelie gestured for William to hand over the file that detailed the amount of MIAs in the Grand Duchy, and the projected amount of prisoners held by the rebels. "A total of twelve thousand OAF servicemen, and eighty-eight RGO servicewomen. Care to hand them back to us?"

"And you hold three thousand of our brothers in your cells." He crossed his arms. "Will you hand them back?"

"We'll hand all of your men back in the course of twenty-two days, provided you agree to a ceasefire extension, and that you will hand over all RGO servicewomen, high profile nobles, and three thousand OAF servicemen. Would that be agreeable?"

Amelie remembered the intense arguments between William and Pristina when they two drafted the demands. William insisted on getting the OAF troops out first, as he knew that the Putschists placed a heftier price for captured women (as they were more valuable captives) than men.

Naturally, Pristina was livid and insisted that she'd rather "leave all OAF prisoners of war" for now than "extend the suffering" of her sisters.

And…well, I agree with her. But, it would be too unfair.

Which was why she gave them a compromise. William naturally found it a loss though, as he ended up with the short end of the stick, as potentially above ten thousand of his men were going to be stuck in POW camps after the exchange.

But he begrudgingly accepted.

"That's almost a month. And that's…not exactly a fair exchange for us." The Colonel said although he wasn't exactly too angry about it. That was nice…if he was Heindhöff, he'd have been shouting about how 'arrogant' she was.

"But Colonel, that's why we're here. Please, let's negotiate the details first before you refuse."

"...Alright."