The captain lowered his head, trembling all over with clenched teeth.
He wasn't afraid of the whipping; that would at most leave him bedridden for half a month, but the humiliation of being whipped by the direct order of the Tsar would follow him for life!
Paul I glared at him and shouted, "Are you guys so used to being lax that you even dawdle when executing orders?!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The captain hurriedly stood at attention, and before the gendarme arrived, he turned and ran in long strides toward the officer of military discipline.
Suvorov immediately felt a bit anxious.
He had just confirmed through the flags that an infantry regiment of the Izmailovo Guard was training here at the Gatchina Palace, the elite of the Empire's elite.
And if that officer was publicly whipped, he would basically be ruined—how could an officer ridiculed by all soldiers ever command in battle?
