//------------------------------// // 2. Gamble // Story: Regenfall // by Flammenwerfer //------------------------------// [Four Years Later] The music was some of the best that she had ever heard, not that she had been on this earth for very long to come to an objective conclusion. The trumpets wailed, the percussion expertly laid out the cadence, and the rest of the batpony band flexed their musical prowess… all coming together with the well-dressed thestral stallion who was really getting the crowd going with that silky voice of his. He had full command of every pony—straight mares and gay stallions especially—on the massive dance floor… ...this bunch was a collective master of their trade. The thousands beyond thousands in attendance were enraptured—even more the hundreds content to dance the night away. Queen Regenfall was no exception. She forgot how amazing it felt when it hurt to smile so wide. The last few months of diplomatic travel all over Foalshevia and Mareitonia, as well as touring Alemaneian military bases… and overseeing the renewing of trade negotiations had dulled her sharp edges and run her into the ground. She had not been able to even sit, catch her breath, nor process everything since this gargantuan ‘to-do’ list was thrust upon her. She knew well that life as a ruler would be much more demanding, stressful, and overall just generally more difficult despite the afforded pleasantries therein. However, when she was able to have fun in her way after all had been inked and closed, it helped her appreciate it more… even after her first four years as Kaiserin. She was finally able to sleep for twenty hours straight one night to recoup what working entire days had taken from her. She was finally able to get some proper military physical training in with her soldiers to let off the stress and ‘get back into shape,’ as she would say—she was still guilty about how much Mareitonian food she indulged in during her visits. And perhaps most importantly for her, she was finally able to enjoy one of the best times of the year… Siegstadt’s (really the entire country’s) most popular celebration of the year—The Unification Festival. Regenfall paid the whole purpose of this night some thought deep within the back of her mind… even as the forefront of her existence was too busy swaying in whichever way the music took her. It was a night of remembrance when all the little kingdoms that had a shared Alemaneian language decided to unite in order to fight off invasion on all sides. After a short but deadly war, and after the threat of invasion had been driven off, the individual kingdoms realized how effective they were together… how seamlessly they worked to aid their fellow pony. They realized that it was much better to stay together, united under their shared history, language, and goals… than to go their separate ways and wait for this process to repeat itself. And thus, on this day of the twenty-first night of September, nearly sixty years ago, the modern Alemaneian Empire was proclaimed and founded after tense negotiations throughout the night. It was also decreed that festivals would be held all over Alemaneia to commemorate the process and for citizens to celebrate their identity… by partying throughout the night with copius amounts of drinking involved. Regenfall was a citizen of this great nation… and despite being the supreme ruler, she was determined to exercise her right to party all damn night. She had been well-underway with exercising this goal since she arrived to give a speech to all in attendance in Siegstadt. That was her only royal duty, and beyond that, she was free to do as she pleased… which meant that she had been one of the first on the dance floor. Her hooves were sore by this point in the night just by dancing… and her more casual uniform was a bit moist on the inside from her sweat despite the cooler evening. Her mind placed her cares elsewhere. Tonight, was her night. Regenfall had been trained as a dancer as part of her royal curriculum, and apart from being Queen, she had an uncanny ability to draw a small crowd. Her fluid, nigh-perfect movements in tune with the upbeat nature of the celebratory songs certainly captivated more than her fair share of attention… …especially from stallions, which she snickered once she saw them out of the corner of her eye. Perhaps more tragically for her, nopony asked her to dance. Regenfall had gone to extensive lengths to make sure she was approachable by the common pony since her days as a Princess—from foregoing direct flanking of honor guard troops to outright approaching ponies on the streets for idle chit-chat. But despite casting inviting glances to various, clearly interested stallions, their trepidation was as amusing as it was palatable for her. That’s one of the many times she wished she could read minds. Perhaps they were afraid of approaching her… and then immediately getting tackled by plainclothes guards that were hidden in the crowd? Perhaps they feared her shouting them down and laying her legendary voice into them for daring to approach her? She actually giggled out loud at that thought… which she wanted to think helped her approachability after flipping her mane out of her vision. She also knew well that the strung-up lights—which crisscrossed the entire festival and bathed it in a soft, incandescent glow that was easy on the eyes to help light up the night—gave her golden eyes an alluring glow to them. Combine that with the right amount of dolling-up for the occasion and how well her uniform fit her… she knew she was looking gorgeous. In the end, Regenfall couldn’t fault any of them—she was the Queen, after all. She twirled in place during an upswing in the tempo… and out of the corner of her eye she spotted a lone stallion—blue to the coat—taking extremely calculated and anxious steps forward. More humorously, she found—presumably—his friends egging him on. She admired the courage, nonetheless. She ended her twirl just as he stepped into her personal space… and she smiled brightly at him ear-to-ear. “Guten Abend!” she greeted, throwing part of her long mane back behind her ear… which tactically revealed her favorite wing-tipped earrings. The poor stallion was almost frozen and shivering in an invisible arctic gust. “H-Hallo, m-meine Königin… erm, Kaiserin…” he himself shakily greeted, then placed his hoof to her chest and bowed his head out of respect. Regenfall giggled at the gesture and rolled her eyes playfully whilst extending her right hoof. “Oh there shall be none of that tonight! Care to dance?” she invited and fluttered her eyelashes for added effect. That definitely perked him up, and he appeared to shed that initial reticence. “Ja, natürlich!” he replied with much more gusto, and took her hoof. Regenfall could feel her wide smile carving dimples into her face. Finally! She pulled him closer into a more traditional—and more intimate—hold, much to the stallions readily apparent surprise. “Relax, good sir! Follow my lead…” she said. And follow her lead he did… quite well in her opinion. Over the next few minutes, she led him in the common Waltz and happily showed him where to place his hooves, how to hold her, and just how to keep doing what he was doing. He did well, in Regenfall’s opinion, despite him averting his eyes—clearly nervously—from the sustained eye contact with her. The nameless stallion got the hang of it, though… and had completely foregone his shyness by this point once he figuratively and literally got into the groove. Regenfall noticed movement next to her, and to her pleasant surprise, found another stallion—orange coat and clad in a classy-looking vest—coming up to her. He then boldly asked: “May I have the next dance?” The first stallion—seemingly having gotten enough attention for one night—seemed more than happy to relinquish his position. “Please!” he invited… And Regenfall met his gaze when he turned to her. “Thank you so much for the dance, Your Highness,” he thanked with a simple bow much like earlier. Regenfall smiled brightly, and again fluttered her lashes. “Thank you, sir!” As the first stallion skipped away, Regenfall was again pleasantly surprised when this newcomer offered his hoof to her, first. “My Queen, may I have this dance?” Regenfall giggled into her hoof all girly-like. It was the first time in a good while that she had felt her chest flutter. She placed her right hoof into his and met his confident gaze with a curtsy. “I’d be adored!” She allowed herself to be led in no particular dance… and in fact, much like she was dancing on her own, the two of them ended up improvising the entire time, dependent on the current beat of the current song. Regenfall lost track of time entirely as she danced with her new partner—one who was certainly experienced in the art. They had drawn a crowd, and a small lake of ponies surrounded them as they circled each other, vying for supremacy in a little, silent dancing game of theirs that nopony else was in on. It hurt to smile in all the best ways—her looking undignified with her now somewhat unkept mane and sweat-laden face was of no concern to her. And on the final note after… how ever long they had been at this was played, Regenfall’s partner dipped her low, much to an uncontrollable chorus of laughter and squealing from her mouth. The applause that came forth from the crowd was deafening—none could really tell whether it was for the band or for the Queen and her partner. Regenfall placed all of her hooves back on solid ground once her partner released her, but just as she was about to thank him for a most lovely dance, she heard a disturbance from the crowd. She snapped her face towards the sounds and flicked her ears. The chorus of grunts and gentle yelps could be heard as a familiar, official-looking pony carved a swathe through the audience. A well-dressed unicorn burst through the inner layer of ponies, flanked by two in-uniform royal guards. Regenfall would’ve rolled her eyes at one of her royal advisors—Nachtsicht—coming to physically wrangle her. What made her rethink chastising him on the spot during her de facto day off, however, was the rather potent urgency plastered on his cream-colored face. “Queen Regenfall…” he said, then hastily bowed. Regenfall beckoned him to rise. “What is it, Nachtsicht?” Her advisor’s legs were splayed out, ready to sprint at an instant. “Your Highness, something’s happened. I sincerely apologize but you must come with me immediately!” His tone brooked no argument, and Regenfall knew that if Nachtsicht had personally come to gather her, something truly important must have transpired. She turned to her dance partner, who had given her some room once her advisor had made his entrance and smirked regretfully. “Thank you so much for the wonderful time… but I must ask that you pardon me for needing to make a hasty exit,” she said. To his credit, he merely bowed. “Of course, My Queen! Duty calls. Thank you for the honor!” he said, placing his hoof on his heart and smiling back. Regenfall nodded thankfully, and then turned to Nachtsicht. “Very well, lead on! This better be good…” “‘Good’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe this, Your Majesty…” [Alemaneian Imperial Palace | Situation Room] The Situation Room within the Imperial Palace was as no-nonsense in its setup as its name would indicate: a simple, ebony wooden long table with chairs perfectly spaced around its edges. Eight Royal Guards lined the interior perimeter of the room, two on each side of the rectangular room. Regenfall had just gotten comfortable at the head of the table, barely able to wipe her face off or just get clean enough from the night’s festivities. Though she internally grumbled over this (both being dragged from her fun and not being able to even tidy up), she figured the urgency of the alleged matter at hand would supersede her desire to always look presentable. Through parts of her matted, unkempt mane, she spied the appropriate ponies (she presumed) filtering into the room one by one and taking their seats. Nachtsicht sat at her immediate right adjacent to her—most fitting, in her eyes. Through her ruminations about what might have happened and why she was kept in the dark through the entire journey back home, she also drew her gaze over to her adjacent left. There sat Generalfeldmarschall Vorschlaghammer—General of the Imperial Alemaneian Army. Clad in the Imperial, gray officer’s uniform and accompanying visor-cap, the gargantuan rank insignias adorned on his lapels and chest were intimidating in their own right. His burly build, on top of the several scars and wrinkles on his face attributed to battle and age combined to form somepony who unquestioningly looked his part. His experience had never failed him either. Regenfall always trusted his judgement—and in hindsight, she figured that if he was here, whatever happened was of great military importance, too. Regenfall impatiently (and with the addition of caffeine and anxiousness to know) tapped her hoof on her chair as the final ponies were taking their seats—other high and lower level military officers, and Alemaneian diplomats. Hmph. A full circus… After a couple more minutes of servants making their rounds with tea and other light snacks, they were promptly dismissed, and Nachtsicht took the lead: “Alright… looks like everypony’s present, so let’s get on with it, shall we?” Regenfall ushered him onward with a flick of her hoof. “Ja, bitte. Was ist passiert?” she plainly asked—she couldn’t take the ambiguity anymore. Wordlessly, Nachtsicht motioned towards Vorschlaghammer with his hoof, placing all attention on him. He nodded and spoke in his commanding, deep voice. “Danke…” …and then addressed Regenfall directly: “Kaiserin Regenfall… It is lovely to see you again… though I wish on better circumstances.” He then placed a large, detailed paper map in front of her. Regenfall tilted her neck from side-to-side to stretch out her soreness before gazing upon it. A quick scan revealed to her what was a simple section of the Alemaneian-Prench border, just north of the Seele Plains, where the Seele River divided the two nations. She watched Vorschlaghammer’s hoof point to a very specific wooded area. “Yesterday afternoon, the Border Corps manning their usual outpost spotted a company-size of Prench soldiers that had wandered across the border—this in and of itself is not cause for alarm. Accidental border crossing during patrol routes happen once in a while. “However, this was the fourth time in the span of a single month that we’ve recorded Prench soldiers entering our borders.” Regenfall nodded, still staring at the map. “Weiter…” she beckoned further, her thoughts already beginning to stir. “Despite the frequency, usually these instances go as follows: “Two parties stumble upon each other, they argue and exchange words over where they’re supposed to be, and then once the border area is revealed, there’s usually an apology and everypony goes their separate ways. “Not this time. This time, it was reported that Prench soldiers drew their melee weapons, unicorns lit their horns, and rifle and machine gun teams were set up at the base of our outpost’s hill. A standoff occurred,” he explained. Regenfall knew a response was implicitly requested, but she insisted on processing the situation for a moment. Still keeping her eyes firmly glued to the map, she stroked her lower lip with her hoof. “Understood. Go on…” she said. “Of course, in defense, our own troops drew weapons and shouted at the Prench to stand down and make their way back into their borders.” Regenfall glanced upwards at Vorschlaghammer. “Did the Prench say anything?” The General shrugged, shaking his head. “From the soldiers we interviewed, it’s unclear what they were shouting back at us, as the Prench-speaking troops we have give somewhat differing accounts as to what words were said in the heat of the moment… “What was clear, however, was that a shot rang out. A fifteen-minute firefight ensued.” Regenfall felt her head shake at how hard she blinked. She snapped her head upward and locked eyes with her general, a combination of fear and anger welling up in her diaphragm. “What?! Who. Shot. First?” she demanded. Vorschlaghammer shook his head, his stoicism intact. “Unknown at this time. Interviewing our troops has proven inconclusive. It’s evenly split between if Alemaneian’s or Prench shot first.” Regenfall blinked once. “Continue…” she said, hanging on her last syllable as she took a shaky breath. “Unfortunately, there were casualties. Fourteen of our soldiers lay dead. Twenty more were rushed to hospitals with varying severity of wounds—all of the wounded are expected to make full recoveries. As inappropriate as it may be to say right now, we took the day.” Regenfall always felt close to the ponies she ruled over, ever since she was a little Princess. Hearing that her ponies came to harm as a result of a questionable accident of a foreign power made her quiver in a rage she never knew she was capable of harboring. Her hoof trembled on the table, rattling her cup of tea next to it. “I see…” she said coolly. “And the Prench? Surely there was information from prisoners?” Vorschlaghammer’s expression did not change. At all. “That’s… another thing, My Queen…” he began anew. “Our troops wiped out the entire Prench company.” Regenfall could practically feel her eyes widening to the size of her tea coaster. “W-Wiped out?!” Vorschlaghammer nodded once. “Indeed. We counted one-hundred and sixty-five Prench bodies. If there were any survivors, they scattered into the woods back across the border.” Regenfall took a deep, deep breath, and then exhaled into her seat. She stared down the line of the table, past all of her advisors, officers, and diplomats. She concentrated on the plain wall opposite of her while she could feel her thoughts vying for supremecy over the beat of her heart in her ears. She simply didn’t know what to think at the moment, and that truly terrified her. Fourteen of her countryponies were dead… she would be personally writing to their families by her own choice, as well as visiting the twenty wounded in the hospital. It was the absolute least she could do. At the same time though… an entire Prench company? Gone! Regenfall exhaled once more, steadied herself, then sat up straight. She brushed her mane out of her vision and righted herself once more. She took a few moments to ruminate and pull apart her individual thoughts had helped her with some direction—she would deal with her own dead. There was one thing that was an unknown at this point, however… She turned back to Vorschlaghammer: “What of the Prench government and military?” The General cleared his throat. “That’s why we’ve summoned you, Queen Regenfall. I personally informed Prench high command as soon as we knew about the exchange. I explained the situation as best as I could with the information I had. They noted it down and we were working on the details of repatriating the bodies. “That’s when we got word from the office of Prench Emperor Bouclier. They’re… not exactly happy.” Regenfall scoffed. “I can imagine they wouldn’t be!” she said, having made no attempts to veil her sarcasm. “What did the message say?” “Apparently… the Emperor has barred his diplomats from working with their Alemaneian counterparts. Furthermore, Bouclier is threatening to recall his ambassador if he does not get an audience with you to… ‘settle this matter,’” Vorschlaghammer said. Regenfall watched as her General placed a piece of paper on the table and pushed it towards her—the official wiring from the ‘Office of His Majesty the Emperor Bouclier of the Prench Empire.’ The anger returned. She could practically feel the second-hand arrogance from the message. After skimming the words over and ensuring that the gist was the same, Regenfall leaned back into her seat and hissed through closed teeth: “How dare he! His soldiers violated our borders! And he has the balls to demand an audience with me?! I should wire back a message demanding financial compensation for the families of our fallen!” she spat. Nachtsicht interjected: “Your Majesty… while we can do that if it comes down to it, based on the information at hoof, I would recommend meeting with Bouclier as soon as possible.” Regenfall acknowledged him with a sideways glance, and then turned her attention back to Vorschlaghammer. He, too, nodded. “I would also recommend meeting with the Prench Emperor. “Furthermore, we’ve seen no further movement or redeployment of Prench troops along the border. I would consider it a safe option to meet with him.” Regenfall needed little convincing on this—indeed she too wanted to… settle the matter. She resolutely placed her hoof flat on the table. “Nachtsicht—please wire the Office of Emperor Bouclier. I agree to a meeting and I formally invite him to the Imperial Palace to… discuss the matter at hand.” Her advisor smirked and nodded tersely. “It shall be done, My Queen.” She looked back to Vorschlaghammer. “What’s the status of the military? In the unlikely event that this becomes a wider event, I’d like to know where we stand, please?” Her top general smirked and nodded. “Of course, Queen Regenfall. A full mobilization of the peace-trained tranche of the Army would take approximately three weeks to ensure maximum order and ease of transport to the Seele River.” Just to his left, the quiet batpony mare in a Navy Fleet Admiral’s uniform—Flottenadmiral Hochsee—raised her hoof, earning Regenfall’s attention. “Your Highness, the Fleet of Righteous Unification is combat-ready and able to leave port at your orders. If needed, we can also sail battleships down the Seele River.” Regenfall nodded once. “Understood. Thank you kindly, Admiral.” She then addressed everypony in the room: “I’d like to thank each and every one of you who sought it fit to seek my thoughts tonight. My decisions have been made and as we move into the next week, I can only hope that this gets resolved swiftly. I have every intention of being cordial in my meeting with Emperor Bouclier…” She held her sentence for a moment, drawing her gaze over her loyal leaders and advisors. “…but I shall warn you that I won’t be trot over. We’ve dealt with the Prench in the past. We know well that their nobility and leadership looks down upon us as backwater ponies, no matter how nicely they put it. “I just want you all to bear this in mind,” she said. A unanimous chant was returned with genuine, curt nods. “Yes, your majesty. Long Live the Queen.” [One Week Later] She decided to dress her finest today. Regenfall had met her Prench counterpart many years ago and occasionally had correspondence with him. She knew well that—brilliant as he was—he was one who only responded to strength and an arrogance that matched his own, in her objective opinion at least. While she would like to not think of herself as too terribly arrogant, her heart told her that she was already a better pony on a multitude of levels than Bouclier. Nevertheless, she opted for her finest, form-fitting blue uniform, shined boots, her red, imperial sash, and all of her medals and lapels as well as her personal crown. Strength, after all. ‘Armored up’ in a sense, her medals and adornments clinked and jangled as she walked calculatingly down the final corridor towards a specific meeting room within the palace—she could feel a storm brewing within her as she envisioned what could possibly happen in her small meeting. She did not anticipate it being long by any stretch… but it would settle a few things in her head about one of Alemaneia’s regional rivals, as well as insight on how to deal with the Prench Emperor going forward. Nachtsicht and her top military leaders had also graciously provided her with their own insight and suggestions. She would take them to heart… but at the same time, in being true to herself, Regenfall really couldn’t get over how insulted she felt over this whole ordeal. She approached the unassuming door that held two Royal Guards stationed on either side of it. She cast a glance at both of them, and the one to her right motioned towards the door itself. “He’s waiting for you inside, My Queen.” She acknowledged them both with a nod and a lopsided smirk. “Thank you, Gentlecolts…” Regenfall placed her booted-hoof flat on the door and had herself a pensive gaze downward. She stared off for the briefest of moments, retreating into her mind to remind herself to leave her emotions at the door. Even so, Celestia’s words from four years ago echoed in her head: …do not allow yourself to be a doormat… After one shaky exhale, she steeled her gaze and her posture. She turned the knob, then pushed the door open… which heralded her arrival with a gentle creak piercing the silence within. Without paying any mind to who was in the room yet, Regenfall wormed her way inside and shut the door behind her with her hind leg. She spared a glance behind to make sure the door was sealed shut, and then she turned back towards the center of the room. Waiting for her seemingly on cue was the stallion she hoped to see… and despite what she felt outside this room, she smiled genuinely at her guest. “Bonjour mon amie…~” came the deep-voiced greeting. There were no interpreters in the drab room with them—thankfully, Regenfall did not need one: “L'empereur Prançais honore ma présence!” Regenfall said jovially, extending her right front hoof to her side as she moved towards the room’s center. As Regenfall met her counterpart halfway beside the lone table in the room, the light from the one windowpane allowed her to get a good look at what she was dealing with: He had certainly thinned out over the years—and the rather, sharp, angular jaw that existed under his well-maintained and coiffed, auburn facial hair fit him well. Regenfall had to admit, the beard and mustache went well with his cream-colored coat and piercing blue eyes… eyes into which she was able to stare with no problem. She was already on the taller side for an Alemaneian mare, and nearly on par with Bouclier. That uniform though… a dark gold that almost looked too much like urine in the right lighting—that definitely had to go. Same with his own medals and what she would barely call ‘adornments.’ The Prench had an… odd way of accenting their dress, in her opinion. With her thoughts having finally caught up to the present, she formally embraced the Emperor in a single, exactly two-second half-hug and a mutual peck on either cheek… as was customary since she could remember. Regenfall felt Bouclier place his right, gloved hoof on her shoulder. “It’s been some time! My how you’ve grown after only a few years!” Regenfall internally rolled her eyes, but nevertheless brushed his hoof off her shoulder—she also had to remember that the Prench were a lot more… touchy-feely, even amongst the nobility. “Indeed! Rulership can certainly age anypony…” She carefully observed Bouclier back himself up towards the table, while pointing a hoof poignantly at her. “Right you are, Queen Regenfall!” he said, finding one of the chairs at the table and leaning against it for support before continuing onward: “It takes a certain type of pony to ensure that we age well under the stresses of our position… and age like fine wine we do! Some of us more…” He playfully winked. “…beautiful than others.” Regenfall honestly didn’t know if he made a less-than subtle pass at her… or himself. She internally gagged either way. Oh, for fuck’s sake… “I concur!” she replied. “Some certainly more beautiful than… others,” she hung on her last word with intent. The Emperor appeared to understand her tone, as a bout of tense silence reared its head as Regenfall refused to break eye-contact with him. “I’ve always wondered…” Bouclier said, breaking the silence. “You go by two titles—Empress, and Queen. By your title you are Empress. Yet, you and your subjects refer to yourself as Queen.” He cocked his head, giving Regenfall some measure of genuineness with his random question. “Why is this?” Regenfall paused for a few moments and made every attempt to read his next ‘move,’ before responding with disbelief: “I hold two titles—Queen of the Kingdom of Siegstadt, and the Empress of Greater Alemaneia. One may choose to address me by either… surely you should have known this?” The Prench Emperor smiled—Regenfall could practically sense the condescension rolling off of him like a waterfall. “I see!” he said. “You’ll find, Queen Regenfall… that despite my stature, I’m unaware of a great many things.” His mood darkened considerably as he idly stroked the top of a chair. “For… example. I’m unaware of the reasoning—and would like to know—why an entire company of my soldiers is dead…” Regenfall inhaled deeply, popped her neck on either side, and straightened her posture once the cards had been unceremoniously lain on the table. There it is. “Well… I’d like to answer your question with a question of my own!” Regenfall said and stepped forward. “Why did your soldiers cross into our territory and initiate a standoff? On OUR territory? The arrogance!” Bouclier’s complexion darkened. “I beg your pardon?!” Regenfall immediately countered: “Then beg, Emperor!” she exclaimed, much to Bouclier’s readily apparent shock. “Because of your soldiers’ carelessness, fourteen of my soldiers are dead! This is not the first time such incursions have happened! Especially this month!” The Prench Emperor pursed his lips, but his expression became much more stoic from what Regenfall could discern. “I’m certainly aware of such incidents but I can assure you wholeheartedly that they were accidents, and—” Regenfall cut him off immediately with a pointed hoof. “No, Emperor. One time is an accident. Two times is an accident. Three times is suspicious… four times with casualties is probing.” Regenfall wasn’t fazed in the slightest when Bouclier got particularly close and felt him peering into her eyes. “I would suggest you be careful with your words, Regenfall. From how it sounds, it appears you would be accusing me of allowing my soldiers to probe the border for nefarious purposes,” he said. Regenfall cocked her head, unimpressed. “Well they certainly weren’t there to bring tea and candy, were they, Emperor?” she asked rhetorically. She put some distance between the two of them and paced for a few moments as she gathered her next words. The look of hellfire and insult in Bouclier’s eyes was more palpable to her than any Alemaneian delicacy. “I feel the solution to this is simple,” Regenfall broke the small silence. “I’m more than willing to throw my own soldiers to the wolves if they even so dare as to purposefully violate our neighbors’ borders without cause. Since you appear to not be willing to do the same, this is what’s going to happen.” Regenfall leveled her stoicism at Bouclier, who returned her gaze with a dark stoicism of his own. “If such an incident occurs again, I will be directing my troops to respond in kind.” That apparently took Bouclier off guard entirely. “Wh—Excuse me?! Did I hear you correctly? Are you threatening my country?” he asked plainly. A voice echoed through Regenfall’s mind and she took a moment to listen to it. Do not make threats you cannot follow through with. “Yes.” She plainly said. “I’m threatening you. Violate our national sovereignty again, and expect a measured response.” Regenfall watched as Bouclier nearly doubled over in cackling laughter, though his eyes still harbored complete shock and awe. Perhaps he had never been talked to like this? Perhaps… she was a little too overzealous in her words? The hints of uncertainty began to well up in her, and as Bouclier took a few moments to compose himself, Regenfall wondered if she had cast her first major mistake. The Prench were clearly in the wrong but had she been too assertive in her words? All of this died the moment Bouclier cleared his throat… and Regenfall was subsequently reminded of the sheer arrogance the Prench Emperor exuded: “Oh my… Regenfall! Are you truly… truly willing to risk an incident, an escalation, and ultimately an all-out war over a potential, future ‘mistake’ that barely registers as a dot on the continental map?!” Regenfall cocked an eyebrow and responded simply with all the conviction that came naturally in her body: “Are you?” By Bouclier’s now-expressionless silence, Regenfall felt she had made her point. “Now. I believe this matter has been sufficiently settled.” She turned on her hooves back towards the door before creaking it open and poking her head out. “My noble Guards, please be so kind as to show the Prench Emperor out?”