back in full force. Demansk sighed. "So what is the problem?"
His youngest son's face, in that moment, resembled that of a five-year-old boy after being told he couldn't play that day. Demansk almost burst into laughter. He remembered that face very well.
"It's me! If it doesn't work out the way you plan, I'll wind up sitting on the side throughout this whole war!"
Demansk stifled the quip he was about to utter. As silly as Trae's complaint sounded to him, now that he had the perspective of decades of warfare to look back upon, he could still remember himself at that same age. Eager to prove his mettle in what, for centuries, had been the only real "rite of passage" that meant anything to Vanbert men. Even if, within a short time, he had come to understand that "honor" was a thing with real entrails, and not just a spirit. Spilled ones, usually.
So his response was entirely solemn. "Trae, I need you for this. I can't possibly detach enough actual warships for the purpose. Carrier ships, plenty of them, yes—to take off the refugees. I lied to Jeschonyk about those ships we're having built in Rope, by the way. I told him they were part of my own fleet. But Albrecht will be raging, be sure of it, and he won't let them go peacefully. Those ships will need to be protected,
His youngest son's face, in that moment, resembled that of a five-year-old boy after being told he couldn't play that day. Demansk almost burst into laughter. He remembered that face very well.
"It's me! If it doesn't work out the way you plan, I'll wind up sitting on the side throughout this whole war!"
Demansk stifled the quip he was about to utter. As silly as Trae's complaint sounded to him, now that he had the perspective of decades of warfare to look back upon, he could still remember himself at that same age. Eager to prove his mettle in what, for centuries, had been the only real "rite of passage" that meant anything to Vanbert men. Even if, within a short time, he had come to understand that "honor" was a thing with real entrails, and not just a spirit. Spilled ones, usually.
So his response was entirely solemn. "Trae, I need you for this. I can't possibly detach enough actual warships for the purpose. Carrier ships, plenty of them, yes—to take off the refugees. I lied to Jeschonyk about those ships we're having built in Rope, by the way. I told him they were part of my own fleet. But Albrecht will be raging, be sure of it, and he won't let them go peacefully. Those ships will need to be protected,