Grand Duchess Amane stood tall at the center of the makeshift war camp, her silver armor gleaming faintly beneath the morning sun.
Kyle had only just departed, and already murmurs began to circulate behind her back.
One of her senior aides, a stiff nobleman with narrow eyes and a nose turned permanently skyward, sneered as he watched Kyle's silhouette disappear over the horizon.
"He's grown too arrogant. To think he just walks off without awaiting your orders. Has he forgotten his place? He's your fiancé, not your equal."
The man muttered.
Another joined in.
"The way he commands, it's as though he leads the entire war. He should be grateful for your support, not acting like some… rogue warlord."
The Grand Duchess slowly turned toward them, her eyes sharp, her voice frost.
"Are you finished?"
The nobles shrank back.
