Draco had led Oliver out of the council room and to a private balcony.  He cupped both of Oliver's cheeks and pressed his forehead against his.

"Forgive me," Draco said quietly.

"Why are you apologizing?"

Draco sighed. "For too many things... but most recently, for starting this war."

"It's—" Oliver started but stopped when Draco shook his head and shut his eyes like he was in pain.

"Have you experienced any peace since that war?" Draco's voice was soft but filled with guilt. Oliver's life had been filled with nothing but war and heavy responsibility.

"Of course I have," Oliver said lightly and pulled at Draco. "Come, let us see what disasters these men have come up with."

He walked back to the council while holding Draco's hand. They were touching, but Draco could sense the distance between them. He could feel Oliver putting up his defenses and walls to become the General he thought he needed to be. 

He hoped Oliver would be forthright and vent his hatred of war, express his reluctance, or whisper his fears. Draco craved an honest response, not empty words to placate him.

However, Oliver's expressionless face was a mask that Draco was too familiar with. This was the face of the General.

He was becoming the General who never revealed his true emotions. The one who had to remain steadfast and sharp—because distractions kill soldiers. He never let anyone know if something was inconvenient for him and would take on the extra burden without complaint. If he believed it would lower morale, he would never expose what was in his heart.

General Oliver Kardos was brilliant and enchanting to watch. However, he was a lonely man living in self-isolation. Draco felt guilty for starting this new war, yet he hoped Oliver would still confide in him and not bottle in his misery.

Draco took a deep breath. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was his ability to go head-to-head with Oliver. From now on, Draco would fight a battle to break down the resurrected walls of the General. However, it would be worth it if he could show Oliver a sliver of peace and security amid a war. He would remind Oliver that he was not fighting this war alone.

The two of them entered the room and the chatter tapered off. Oliver walked up to the map that had banners set up to show proposed strategies to attack Bierze. He pursed his lips with obvious disappointment as he saw the sloppy army formations.

"Report." Oliver suddenly said. With one word, he was in control of the room again.

Ian briskly came to his side and saluted. "Boss. The Ravager King occupied Bierze and enslaved the noble families and King. Many hidden bandit camps have fallen under the Ravager's banner and set up camp within the capital's walls."

Oliver stopped him before he could continue. "And Wynter?"

"King Draco had Wynter evacuated to Rucrea. Some of the smaller villages are being cared for in Osmela." Ian answered.

Oliver turned a grateful look towards Draco. "And where do we stand in our plight against Bierze?"

"At this time, we are rallying the armies of Abrorg, Osmela, Rucrea, and Wynter to attack Bierze. We will be ten legions strong within a few weeks. However, we have had conflicting ideas on the plan to attack."

"These plans are obviously not Imran's. I heard something happened to him and Aris." Oliver said plainly. 

The people in the room muttered lightly. They all knew that he had just woken up but didn't realize that he had rushed here without knowing their current situation. Still, he could determine that Imran did not draft these plans with just a glance at a map.

Ian hesitated. "They had both fallen unconscious a week ago. It was sudden, so we were left unprepared."

Oliver frowned. "Sarah," he called out.

A woman rose from the bleachers and rushed to him. No one had noticed her before except for Oliver. He had fought quite a few years by her side and knew how she would blend into a crowd.

She saluted, but her eyes were red, and tears threatened to fall. "Oliver." She said softly.

Oliver patted her on the shoulder. "You've been well?"

"Yes, boss."

"You were in Wynter with Cora. Did she return home safely?"

"Yes, boss."

Oliver sighed. "I have a job for you before we catch up. Go to Ewen's room and search it. Have a priest accompany you."

"What am I looking for?"

"Letters, plans, and poison."

She bowed and took off out of the room.

"Ian, what of my uncle?" He finally asked but dreaded the moment the question left his lips. A somber mood blanketed the room. He took a deep breath and forced himself to remain patient. "Nevermind. Tell me later."

Ian nodded and stepped back so Oliver could have the floor. 

"We are glad to see you awake, King," Castor said with a bow.

Oliver's brow creased. He had started getting used to others calling him King, but he needed to be something different in a room where everyone was conscious of rankings and titles. He needed to converse without others tip-toeing around words because of a crown. 

"Right now, I am not speaking to you as a King but strictly as a General until my uncle returns." He said.

Draco restrained himself from wincing from the declaration. He had expected it and understood Oliver's intentions, but it still caused his worries to gnaw away at him.

The men from Wynter and Rucrea saluted. "Yes, General."

Even after hearing the familiar title, Oliver couldn't relax. He walked over and removed every army marker from the map. And positioned himself on the Bierzen side of the map.

"What everyone is ignorant about is that Bierze is a topological fortress. Defending it is as easy as breathing." Oliver said.

Draco's lips curled, knowing Oliver was the only person who could be arrogant enough to say this.

Oliver continued. "We need to know our risks before anything. The first would be our lack of information on whether the bandits and Ravagers have emptied their caves. It's best to assume that they haven't. This means that our southern route has been cut off because of the bandits' hideout in the Camwood Caverns. Even if we avoid them and enter Duke Holt's lands, we will be stuck in the marshes... The north is also blocked because of the Ravagers hiding in the Asksno Peaks. In addition to Ravagers, I do not wish to fight the wraiths and beasts that plague the foothills and Misty Passage."

He continued to point to several other locations, explaining why it would be difficult to attack. He was intimately aware of every way to defend Bierze and did not hide it. He took his knowledge a step further and discussed difficulties they would encounter in the lands of the other kingdoms. 

An Abrorgean pointed to a seemingly flat piece of land that seemed a perfect entrance to invade; however, Oliver responded with a laugh.

"This is the Petal Cliffs, my favorite place to defend."

Draco had moved next to him and looked at the area that Oliver was pointing at. He hated those damnable cliffs because of how well Oliver had defended there.

"This place is a sanctuary for natives but a curse for those who do not know how to navigate through them. A fog dwells there, making it easy to lose your way. You can easily fall into the hidden ravine that lines the cliffside. Or, your enemies can set up camp at the top of the cliffs and rain down fire and hell."

Oliver tapped the map. "When fighting three armies, I must use every advantage I have on hand, including nature. Be it fog, mountains, or cliffs; I will use it to keep my men alive."

He sighed a little, and his voice became softer. "My greatest weakness would be the sea or drawing me towards the desert."

Draco hated Oliver's tactics as an enemy, as did the rest of his army. They never wanted to fight on Bierze's soil when Oliver was General. Yet, when they tried to pull him away from Bierze, he would use their landscape against them. After the Battle of Sand Waters, they could not draw Oliver out to the Sand Desert.

Draco watched Oliver continue to explain certain tactics on the map. He started to list out scenarios and attack formations that he was familiar with from all kingdoms. He also proposed his contingency plans, giving them all possible scenarios he could think of and how to defend.

Bierze, bandits, Ravagers, magic—it didn't matter to Oliver because he had a plan.

Draco stepped back and watched Oliver pour over the map and give commands. He had watched Oliver lead his armies and saw how he prepared to defend his land... but this was something different. He had never seen Oliver commanding over a war room. He had never understood what lengths he would go to to find the safest possible means for his men. It was no wonder why his small army of debtors and criminals could hold up against three kingdoms.

Conrad had approached Draco's side and watched Oliver with the same awe as those around him.

"I..." He started but could not find the words to finish.

"If he is incapable of leading our armies in this war, then no one is able to," Draco said quietly.

"He's..."

"Extraordinary." Draco finished for him.

Aaron and Sophia had heard that Oliver woke up and entered the council room while Oliver explained a formation. They stood behind Draco, Quincey, and Conrad while watching Oliver take command of the room.

Oliver continued to fight and debate until his voice was hoarse. One Abrorgean was stubbornly combative and refused to accept Oliver's suggestions.

Surprisingly, Oliver only leaned back on the table with a smile. "Then tell me, soldier, what suggestions do you have?"

"You're being facetious." He sneered.

"I'm not too arrogant to refuse to listen to another's opinion. If you have another idea, present it to the council, and we can discuss it."

The man flushed with embarrassment and anger. "It's not that. I do not believe we should blindly trust the words of a treaty breaker."

Treaty breaker? After what Piers put him through, will people still insult his Kardos name because of this mysterious treaty?

Half the room erupted with angry shouts. The Kardoses paled a little, but all held their head high. Only Oliver and Draco seemed to look unaffected.

Oliver raised his hand, and the room fell silent. "Although I have never read the contents of this treaty, I am aware that it does not contain the information we have always assumed. There was a reason for the Belelots to hide it."

"Yet we will never know the truth because you don't have it." He scoffed.

"We have it." Aaron's voice broke through the murmurs. He held out his hand, and Quincey gave him the scroll. "Oliver and Quincey have risked their lives bringing it out of the palace. However, there is a seal on it."

He tossed it over to the Abrorgean. The man tried to open it and then laughed when he couldn't. He handed it over to another person, and several others tried in vain.

"How convenient," the Abrorgean said sarcastically.

"Only one of Belelot's blood can open it," Aaron said.

Oliver's eyes turned towards Quincey. Although his blonde hair had grown out and his blue eyes were striking, it seemed that only Oliver could recognize him as Piers' cousin. His skin was tanned, and his demeanor was rough from the days he lived as a thief. The way he held himself was entirely different as well. Piers was a child throwing a tantrum, but the Quincey standing before him was mature. He was the true king.

Quincey met his eyes, and then his shoulder dropped with a heavy sigh. "Nothing slips past you." He said quietly.

"Don't," Oliver called out when he saw Quincey step forward. "This matter is trivial."

"You need to lead us, General. But they won't follow you if they see you as oath breakers." Quincey argued.

Oliver shrugged. "I have experienced worse. Whether they choose to trust me or not, I will help them the best I can."

Quincey shook his head. "I will not be satisfied with that." He took the scroll from one of the man's hands and hooked his finger under the seal. "Besides, I have been hiding for far too long. It has become boring."

Quincey snapped the scroll from a man's hand, and his fingers played with the seal. He took a deep breath and cracked the seal. A gust of wind rushed around him, and the scroll fell open in his hands.

"Belelot!" Several yelled, and suddenly swords and spears were pointed at him.

However, Oliver, Draco, and Aaron were faster and surrounded Quincey to protect him from the attacks. An onslaught of harsh words abused them.

"What is the meaning of sneaking the enemy into our camps?"

"Traitors of humanity!"

"Loyal dogs!"

"You should have never woken up!"

When the last sentence was uttered, Draco became enraged. Black scales started to creep up his neck, and his teeth elongated. He opened his mouth and released a soul-shaking roar.

He wrapped his arms around Oliver, holding him from behind.

"Ignorant cowards." He nuzzled his head in Oliver's neck. "We can return to Rucrea. Let them figure out this war themselves."

Oliver chuckled. "If it comes to that, then we will."

Draco sighed, knowing that Oliver didn't mean these words. He cared too much about the realms.

At the same time, Quincey gave Aaron a knowing look. Aaron nodded and stepped forward.

"I'll officially introduce Quincey Belelot, the only son of King Gideon Belelot, true heir to the throne of Bierze." He said loud enough for the room to hear. "Almost thirty years ago, King Gideon had married in secret and hid his wife away because of the threats inside of his palace. Guardian Antony and I were in charge of holding this secret.

"In truth, King Gideon and I were close friends, and he wished to break us from this treaty, doubting its contents. He had been searching for it within the palace for years. I appreciated his efforts, so when he asked me to help guard his unborn child, I did so willingly. I helped hide him from the world.

"One night, I received word that King Gideon had found the treaty and was going to meet us to deliver it... he never came... that was the night he was killed."

Chattering and whispers buzzed in the council room. There had been many revelations this day that could change the entire course of the war and the realms.

Quincey stepped forward and gave Oliver an apprehensive look, terrified that Oliver would hate him because of his blood. "Piers' father found out about the treaty and my existence. He killed my father that night... I never meant to hide it from you for so long, General. I never lied when I said I have no love or loyalty to the Belelots. My hatred can rival yours."

Oliver nodded. "I know."

Oliver tried not to show it, but he was perplexed. The way Quincey was speaking was different from the carefree child he met in the treasury. He talked to him as if they had known each other for a long time, and the way he addressed him as General was natural, like it was a habit. However, Oliver was more puzzled by the statement Quincey had repeated... Quincey said this in his previous life. Did he remember as well?

"I won't betray you." Quincey insisted, interrupting Oliver's thoughts.

"I also know this." Oliver nodded slightly, pushing his suspicions to the back of his mind. He motioned towards the open treaty in his hands. "If you don't mind, enlighten us on the words that have entrapped my family for generations."

Quincey looked down at the contents with a slight smile, but it fell quickly as he paled. He jerked his head up towards Oliver, and his eyes misted.

"This isn't a treaty," Quincey said with a shaky voice. "These are terms of surrender."

The room stilled when they heard this.

He started to read out loud:

"Of the year 763 of the New Era, Clarence Belelot, King of Brieze, was found to be conspiring with the remnants of the Kirith Empire. Because of the imminent risk to the realms, Guardian Cecil Kardos and his men have subjugated Bierze and will seek out the Kirith Empire survivors and banish them to the Asksno Peaks.

"Clarence Belelot has surrendered to the Guardian, and will remove his crown, naming his brother, Evan Belelot, to become the new King of Bierze. The Belelots will provide the funds to help restore the lands and compensate the people who have suffered because of their cursed alliance with the enemies of the land.

"Additionally, the Belelots shall surrender their army to the Kardos family. They shall lead the military power and restore honor to the disgraced soldiers of Bierze.

"Finally, the Belelots can retain their crown and status as royalty in Bierze; however, they will swear fealty to the Guardian of the Realms and will be of the lowest standing royals of the established kingdoms in the continent."

The room was shocked into silence. How often have they looked down on the Kardos family for tethering themselves to Bierze? How many times did they mock them? However, they were all tricked by the Belelots. 

"Guardian Cecil and his men were wiped out in the end," Aaron said darkly. "Probably because the Kirith remnants and Bierze tricked them. With no one to enforce these terms, they hid it, lied about its contents, and used it to threaten us... Fuck... we have been made into a joke."

Oliver was trembling with rage. He honored the treaty blindly... but this changed everything. 

"A joke... for thirty years," Oliver muttered under his breath. "Thirty fucking years."

"Oliver," Draco pulled him closer. 

The room was still buzzing with noise, but Oliver was silent for a while. Oliver's face was buried in his chest, trying to curb his rage. His hatred and grudges ran too deep to allow others to see. 

Finally, his shuddered voice broke through the room's babble. "Do you wish to give me a gift still, Draco?"

Draco's fingers caressed the back of his neck. "Name anything, and I will deliver it."

"Piers... I want to throw him into a cage and strip him of all his titles. I wish to remove his very name and give him a moniker of shame," Oliver snarled. 

Draco's lips pulled into a small smile. "You shall have it."

Oliver was still shaking in his embrace. "Then I want him to suffer. I want him broken, skinned, burned... I want him to suffer endlessly for thirty fucking years."

"Consider it done," Draco said with a bow of his head, his lips brushing on the top of Oliver's head. "We will use these thirty years to consider the best way for him to die."

Oliver relaxed a little and looked up at Draco. His violet eyes revealed more emotion than before. He was grateful for Draco's understanding and embrace. 

At the same time, Quincey was still staring at the scroll's contents with shaking hands.  

Aaron reached out to him. "This is not your fault," he tried to comfort Quincey.

Quincey shook his head solemnly.  He then fell to his knees before Oliver. "I am just one man. I do not wear a crown or sit on a throne. As much as I hate it, I am still a Belelot, but my loyalties will always be tied to you and your family. I, Quincey Belelot, will abide by these terms and swear allegiance to the Guardian."

Oliver and Draco helped Quincey to his feet. Oliver gave him a reassuring look. "You're my brother-in-arms, not my subject. Leave this matter to the current Guardian, my uncle." 

Oliver patted his shoulder but then looked back to his family, ready to breach this topic again. 

"Now that we are on the topic of Guardians...  Where is my uncle?"