Beckett Berman the Second groaned as he released inside the relieving servant. A female omega with hips, eyes, and the grace of someone of greater nobility. He was young but not foolish. He knew no illegitimate heirs would appear. As he know from his first marriage, his failed marriage, there was nothing to be made of him.
Julianna stood up and placed a kiss on his cheek before leaving his bed. The dorm held ten soldiers per room with beds cramped close. Most of the others had left for training and the rest were distracted by their own interests. And a relieving servant or two wasn't of interest to the focused soldier either way, especially if they feared the higher ups.
"How is Roderick?" He said, breaking the silence as he sat up. The bedding sloped off the wooden holdings and unsteadily wobbled. "He's got to be nearly old enough for his age ceremony."
Julianna sighed. "The boy showed as an omega. They've already begun his paperwork to be a relieving servant."
"I'm sorry."
"What is there for you to be sorry for? It's the natural order."
The still quiet as others in the soldier barracks coughed or scuffled their feet felt heavy in his chest like congestion. He said, lowly, but clearly, "He would be my cousin in other circumstances."
"And yet he isn't. Although, speaking of family," Julianna cut in and grinned. "I hear your sister has just given birth. Congratulations!"
Beckett frowned. "You know how I feel about my sister's marriage."
"Akuhetenan is a good man."
"He's not the right man for my sister," he added pointedly. And he couldn't help it. He's never liked the idea of their arrangement and will never be able to come to terms with it. "He's in love with one of those relieving servants. And too passionate loyal and ignorant to know the difference between allegiance and fleeting emotions. And my sister is a fool for humoring the notion that her husband will simply get over it. Why would you even bring them up? You heard something?"
"You forget that I'm also a relieving servant," Julianna said before her eyes cut away to the outside of the barracks. Something ran by the window unbeknownst to the soldier speaking to her.
"You're family, it's different," he scoffed. "You also forget that my omega father was a relieving servant."
"In the days of pedigree," Julianna countered. "We're nothing but cattle now."
"And I disagree with the notion that we all act the same. Some of us have different goals, desires, and needs. What we lack is a proper leader."
The omega sighed. "You soldiers are all the same, aren't you? You all lack focus. You talk before you think. Imagine if we lived in the capital. We'd already be dead from the treason you just spoke. But Akuhetenan is the ignorant one?"
The words were honest and straightforward. He was not a schemer like his father--not that his father even saw him as an inheritor of their family line.
"If Roderick requires a father for paperwork, you may write me down either way. I will say nothing more or less of my brother-in-law."
Julianna stood up then. Her hands held against her side with dark, black waves of hair falling over shoulders as she hunched over. Beckett couldn't see her eyes or read her surface level thoughts then.
"I wasn't going to ask you but it is a matter of concern."
Beckett clapped his hands over her shoulders and then brushed his thumbs over them. He added, "You're both important to me. And I would rather protect you two then having pretended nothing was there. I won't be blinded by what our people are doing."
"You talk of Akuhetenan but you seem much of the same," she smiled as she gracefully, carefully drew Beckett's hands off her shoulders. She turned around and faced him while holding his hands tight. Affection and their companionship shone clear in her crystalline clear brown eyes. "I appreciate you."
Boots and brooms clattered beside them as one of the younger soldiers snapped, stomping into the room, "You're late for roll call! I'm not covering for you this time. A Berman's name can't save you from chores. Not today! I refuse!"
Julianna laughed. "Enzo, you seem energetic today."
The young soldier paced angrily shaking his fingers in Beckett's frozen face. He grumbled, "You're lucky your father was there. I can't imagine what would've happened if mine, or worse, the new Commander. You need to get your things together. Now!"
Julianna had snuck out in the noise and Beckett furrowed his brows as he asked, "The commander arrived? Already?"
"Yes. Yes. Yes," Enzo waved in the air, hurrying him along. "We need to hurry up for the official roll call to introduce the commander. And get your uniform on! Just thinking with your dick. No sense of time."
The younger soldier complained as he yanked out Beckett's uniform and tossed it in the other soldier's face. With a few spine twists and ankle jostling, Beckett fitted himself in his uniform with ease. The glossy armor and ribbons wrapping over his ribcage with the leg armor tied up around his thighs. His armor nestled under his arm as Enzo yanked him out of the barracks through the sandy pathways that were strangely, and worryingly, empty of the usual walkers.
They reached the winding uphill opening up the view of their regiments lined by squads and headed by their regiment's generals and captains. They slid through the squad lines of uniform soldiers crouching under their shoulders until they pushed into place behind Captain Boucher and General Orellano.
"Commander Rasoya will now introduce himself! Ad Signa!" shouted Commander Berman as the squads and their leads marched through the camp and into the main pathways of the Hada, the Sonhrai Empire's big city and housing of most nobilities in the empire.
People peered out of their housings with worried glances and children were snatched by their parents forced back into their homes. Carriages had been to be redirected into alleyways as the troops continued the march onto the landing near the piers. The walk was long and Beckett could tell both he and Enzo needed more training. He wiped the sweat off his brow as the sun bared down on them even with their helmets protecting them from the sun it was too much. And finally the Commander called out for them to stop.
The horizon ahead showed a ship roped into pier with the flags of the Empire of Carolingian whipping the air. Bright colors shown in the sun and for a moment he forgot how frustrated he was with his people. A sense of patriotism overwhelmed him and even Enzo saluted as the boat docked.
The soldiers began to mingle, break off, even as they crowded the pier.
"I was wondering if you two would make it," Neal clapped his hands on the two soldier's shoulders. His mischievous smile switched between the two guilty looks. "You're lucky the boat was late or you would've missed the march and been publicly whipped. It would've been a really, really bad day for you both."
"Thank you, General Orellano," the two groaned in unison.
Orellano hailed from the southern parts of their Empire and closer to where Enzo was raised than Beckett but the man's prowess in the battlefield and conversational skills kept their squad safe from outside influences. Their differences in birth still led them to the same place. General Orellano was the kind of soldier Beckett hoped to reveal when he became a stronger, better protector. It couldn't be difficult if his father could be a commander. A man of ill morals and horrible countenance.
"What soured your puss?" Enzo said from the sandy dirt ground. He had sat down in the sand relaxing in the sun. "The great commander's son can't handle the sun."
Their generals huddled outside of sight until one by one by entered the pier below officially greeting their new commander. There was a question he kept thinking. He said, "Do you think someone killed the last one?"
Enzo yanked him to the sandy flooring and hushed him. He replied, quietly, "You're not one to get involved with politics. It's not something we should be talking about either."
"But--?"
Enzo waved him in to get closer and Beckett didn't want to show his hesitation as his eyes rolled over Enzo's lashes trailing down his flushed cheeks and his lips rounding into an O. So he leaned in only with ear as his eyes tried focusing on the discussion below at the pier.
"Saavedra embezzled funds from the empire's treasury between shipments," Enzo said quietly and then checked over his shoulder before continuing. "These funds weren't just his money, though. Some of those funds were redirected into one of the royal family members."
Enzo said such a thing as if the royal family hadn't been cursed, or blessed, with a single heir for generations. If it wasn't the king, surely not the queen, there was only one possibility.
"The prince?"
Enzo hushed him again and covered his mouth, nervously. "I didn't say that. And there's no proof who it was." He repeated pointedly.
If this were true, this was enough to execute the crown prince.
Beckett pulled Enzo's hand off his mouth and, for a brief second, committed to memory what it felt like to hold his hand before releasing it. His companion none the wiser.
Trumpets sounded breaking his concentration and chattering raised in volume as guards exited the ship, blocking off the pier. A figure emerged from the ship dressed in a fine armor wearing the symbol of the empire proudly on his chest. Regalia typically associated with formal events worn by the commander of the military.
"Does that look like Rasoya to you?"
"Rasoya is clearly the one in the turban there," Enzo gestured at the pier where an alpha woman stood tall wearing a turban with a gold insignia and tassel. A smaller, young omega man, barely one at that, shivered at her side heavily pregnant with only the aid of a servant holding him steady. "That's her omega. A bastard stolen from the Mawaddah clan. The clan doesn't care much about him but the Sonhrai's Empress was furious. Nothing she could do about it when even the Mawaddahs won't. Clearly, a trap too though."
Beckett blinked as Enzo spoke as if it were another language. He paused. "What do you mean?"
"You need to pay attention," Enzo sighed before he motioned him to lean closer and listen to the conversations below. "Things are about to get bad."
Captain Roy Casas was not having a good day. He could see his brother perched above almost inconspicuously watching them as he felt the errant headache reach him.
The man baring full regalia in front of them was the Prince of their empire. Adventurer in the prince's words but a stowaway by any other terms.
He shuffled around as Commander Berman tried to convince the Prince return back to the empire on the ship.
"He can't be serious," Neal whispered at his side. "Does he know the political situation here?"
"I don't think he cares."
"Then we need to limit the damage.
Captain Casas rubbed his brow before he directed, "Cut off any word of mouth about what's happening. As far as anyone knows, Rasoya arrived to pier and that's the end of that."
"Aye aye, Captain." General Orellano gestured at a few other generals to move out and push the soldiers to spread out their blockade alongside the guards.
Captain Casas joined the fray as the soldiers expanded and the generals ordered a wide sweep of no one gets in or out.
"My father fought in the war prior and he was the sole heir," the Prince countered. His blonde hair scooped underneath the helmet before he yanked it off his head. "I am no less of a man than my father is."
The captains shared a look at those words.
Commander Berman masked his face with a wide smile and gestured for the prince to follow them. It appeared that they would have to convince the Prince that this wasn't a fun day on the island.
A carriage was already prepared in advance but now they had to make special care to support the guards as they marched back to camp. It was quite literally impossible that no one knew that their departure was delayed but by the time they arrived into camp there was little else but questions of who was dressed in the golden regalia armor. It seemed no one questioned who was or wasn't Rasoya. It was a matter of patriotism and power.
Their Commander entered the port with golden regalia like a god. It had to be Rasoya or else the newly made hymns would be a waste of propaganda. Or, at least, that's what Enzo lamented for the rest of the day. His brother waxed poetry about the maneuvers of the royal family in the imperial lands somehow ignoring the wasteful brutality of it all. He thought it was the distance of it all.
And surely their troops would be rewarded to easing away those rumors of the royal family's decline. Nothing about their empire could be called anything but strong.
For awhile at least.
Captain Casas corralled the soldiers to their barracks warning them to mind their business as the commander and his spouse get comfortable. To leave them alone for several days if not a few weeks as they prepare for new regimented trainings. Nonsense, of course, but Roy needed time just to think about what to do next. Implementing such plans were an entirely different thing. He was tempted to ask his brother for advice but he knew his brother wasn't one to stop once he begun.
Moving the Prince to switch clothing with Rasoya, even with great consternation, into the dungeon went smoothly. With some gold and quick thinking, they furnished a large section of the dungeons with bedding, seating, food, and distraction. While the Prince lounged in his furnished new space, the Captain entered into the sunlight above ground and closed the door with guards at either side. It didn't appear he would need the help of his brother after all.
An annoying but all too routine figure appeared as if realizing Roy had become comfortable.
"I hope the order fit to your satisfactions," Castillo Reviere said with glinting eyes. His eyes veered on the shut door. "It is awfully strange to furnish a prison, if you don't mind me saying. We have more cargo in storage that we can donate."
"I do mind," Captain Casas demanded of the weaver with his arms crossed. "And if you have no reasons to be here then thank you for your service. We should be done for now."
"Well," Castillo drawled and he flicked his hand at his fellow weavers bringing chests over. They flipped it open and the insides were empty. "I wasn't sure if you heard of my recent nuptials. One of my husbands used to live here since his father was the former commander. He didn't have the heart to take his father's stuff before but since I found himself here, wouldn't it be grand if I brought him this gift? His father's mementos."
"Cut the bullshit," Captain Casas said and scratched his beard before nodding at some of the soldiers interested in the scene to keep walking by. There was nothing to see here. "What do you want?"
Castillo smirked. "Your business is my business. My ships are stuck at the docks unable to ship out because they're worried someone might stowaway. And the city's legionnaires are unkind to my plight."
"We'll tell them to let your ships through."
"Salutations and well wishes, Captain." Castillo Reviere ended with a snap for the weavers to pick up the empty chests and move out. "I hope you get your issue solved. It's not for our benefit to have incidents cluttering our stable city."
Captain Casas glared at the departing form.
"Do we need to worry about him?"
"No."
He and Orellano gestured for some of their soldiers to stand by in case the guards needed help but what he needed was a break. He reached the barracks and jogged up the stairs to the Captain's quarters to find his son pacing outside. Alone.
"Can you stand guard outside?" He requested of his general. This was a personal request but Neal nodded with one look at the young Casas before leaving the barracks, closing the door shut. The Captain's quarters were split into four sections. Two rooms that were split in half. His fellow Captain, Akuhetenan, was off on a mission leaving the room to him.
His section was larger than most spaces but smaller than the Commander's quarters by half. It was easily large enough to hold a few chests, a dresser, mirror, and a decently-sized bed.
"You know that I can't answer any of your questions."
The young Casas kept pacing as if he hadn't heard him.
"This doesn't involve the soldiers or the layers of command."
Still nothing.
The Captain pulled off his helmet, untied his sandals, and sat at his dresser table waiting for his brother to finally speak. He poured himself a pitcher of water that tasted about as still as stillwater could but at least it was fresh and closed his eyes briefly.
"The Emperor has a bastard son," The young Casas admitted. "And I think the Prince was right to depart to here."