The emperor's carriage stopped before a large, sprawling palace.
Its spires jagged against the snowy sky—a fortress of dark stone, crumbling from the ruthless shelling of the siege artillery.
Soldiers stationed on the steps saluted as the emperor stepped out, flanked by his two generals.
With a small smirk, the emperor surveyed the crumbling palace.
"A place fit for a king, or at least it was," the emperor remarked, his voice laced with amusement as he climbed the crumbling stairs.
The air was thick with the scent of essence and gunpowder, distant wails could be heard from the ruined courtyards, and children and mothers huddled in makeshift camps.
Levi puffed his pipe as he glanced at the camps.
"You have a strange sense of humor, nephew."
He grumbled stepping over a dilapidated statue.
"The Dvergr were always tough basterds, it felt good putting them in their place."
Vor sighed, hands behind his back as he observed the large Blackwood doors ahead.
Beyond the doors was a long carpeted hallway and dozens of imperial soldiers.
They moved ammunition crates, shoved servants, and tore down tapestries adorned with Dvergr crests.
And replaced them with the purple of the gold of the empire.
The emperor continued his stride into the palace.
His caplet caught the dim light filtered through the shattered windows and scattered lanterns.
Reaching the throne room, the emperor and his generals were greeted by Lieutenant Colonel Kenobi.
"Ah, emperor," Kenobi said with a wave, exiting the throne room.
He stepped towards the emperor, before bowing deeply.
"I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever show."
The emperor chuckled. "I wasn't aware my schedule revolved around you, Kenobi."
Kenobi winked, "I'm simply teasing, though I must say, if you're here to see the tsar… you'll be disappointed."
The emperor raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Kenobi crossed his arms, "The poor lad hasn't moved or spoken since we took the palace, I believe he's gone mute."
The emperor's smirk softened, "How unfortunate, perhaps I should speak to him, alone."
Kenobi took a step back.
"Are you sure?" He asked, his words hesitant. "His armies have been defeated, but he's still a warrior."
The emperor huffed.
"Do you not have faith in your soldiers, Kenobi?"
Kenobi sighed, before turning to open the chamber doors.
The emperor glanced at his generals with a knowing look, before stepping forward.
Inside, the vast chamber was a shadow of its former glory.
The high ceilings were cracked, chandeliers hung precariously, and torn curtains blew from broken windows.
At the far end of the room, the tsar sat—slumped in a broken throne.
Two imperial soldiers stood guard on either side, their rifles at the ready.
The emperor raised a hand, and the guards saluted before exiting.
As the heavy doors thudded shut, the room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the winds outside.
The emperor approached, his boots echoing against the floor.
"Tsar Norrell of the Dvergr, I'm sure you're familiar with the language of your conqueror, yes?"
He spoke calmly, his voice carrying the edge of authority.
The Tsar didn't move, his tattered coat rising was the only sign that he lived.
The emperor tilted his head, unfazed by the silence.
"It's a surprise you stayed in the capital, I was certain you'd have fled with your family." He stepped forward, "Speaking of, where are they?"
The Tsar remained silent.
"Your people must be jealous, especially your soldiers." The emperor smirked, "I know they would've loved the opportunity to send their families away… instead of watching them burn."
The Tsar tightened his gloved fist—raising his head to meet the emperor's gaze.
For a moment, there was no response.
Then, slowly the Tsar's lips parted. "Do you think of yourself as a god?" His voice was hoarse but defiant.
The emperor smirked, stepping closer. "Why do you ask, is it because you fear me?"
The Tsar's fists tightened.
"Fear? I fear no man. But you, boy, should reel your hubris before it puts your head on a pike."
He gritted his teeth as he narrowed his bloodshot eyes.
The emperor's smirk widened.
"Bold words." He replied, pacing slowly. "But I wonder, would you still speak that way if I offered you peace?"
"Peace?" The Tsar echoed, "You humans don't do peace, you're only offering it because you know your armies can't stretch further east."
The emperor nodded. "You're a sharp one, I guess that's why you're in charge." He paused, "but… You can't afford this war anymore either. Your armies are scattered, generals are broken, and cities lie in ruin."
The Tsar let out a bitter breath.
"My empire stretches far, we'll rebuild and endure."
The emperor's expression didn't falter, but his tone grew colder.
"Watch your tone, you stumpy little creature. I'm offering you an out, because I'm feeling generous.
You can either surrender the land I conquered, or I can rip it from your cold dead hands.
I am not to be trifled with, I will not hesitate to raze this kingdom until even the ashes forget your name."
The Tsar's bloodshot eyes burned with anger, but the slump of his shoulders showed the weight of defeat.
The emperor turned on his heel, stepping towards the door. "You have a week before I finish what I started."
— — —
"And François Academy brings home the national trophy!"
The crowd went wild with cheers as red and gray confetti rained from the sky.
Cameras flashed from the stands.
Fans tried to rush the field.
And the team celebrated.
Raphael lifted the massive trophy handed to him, cracking a wild grin as the team gathered around him.
Some danced, like Jules.
Others posed stoically, like Karl.
And Alexander found himself standing to the side with a smile.
He shook his head before turning, "Not my style."
He joked, not making a step before he was tackled by Elizabeth flying at Mach Jesus.
The duo crashed into the cold turf, Elizabeth giggling all the way down. "You did it Alex!"
She exclaimed, planting kisses all over his face.
Alexander tried to wiggle free, pushing against her chest. "Elizabeth! I'm dirty and stinky, stop!" He said with a strained chuckle.
Elizabeth raised her head to reveal an obsessed glint in her eyes. "Never!"
Just as Alexander was about to respond, a picture was snapped of them.
"That's front page news!"
A photographer grinned, looming over the duo as he snapped another photo.
Not even a day later, Alexander stared at a newspaper with him and Elizabeth plastered on the front.
"Alexander, AKA 'The Little General' and Princess Elizabeth celebrating the nationals as a couple!"
Alexander groaned. "Damn it."