Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 213 - Two Hundred And Thirteen

The royal court was bathed in a serious, heavy atmosphere. The high vaulted ceilings echoed with the murmurs of generals, ministers, and advisors. King Alistair sat on his throne, looking graver than usual. Beside him stood Prince Liam, his face impassive, his eyes sharp and observant.

Derek stood in the center of the room. He wore his commander’s uniform, the black fabric crisp, the silver buttons shining under the chandeliers. He felt the weight of the room’s attention on him. He was no longer the "skiver" In the court. He was the Commander of the North, and today, he had to prove it.

A spy knelt before the King, finishing his report.

"Your Majesty," the spy said, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "The reports are confirmed. Mercia is mobilizing. Their troops are gathering at the western border of Strathmore. They intend to invade before the first snow falls."

The King leaned forward, his hands gripping the arms of his throne. "Strathmore has sent for aid?"

"Yes, Sire," the spy replied. "A rider arrived at dawn. They are requesting Eudora’s support. They cannot hold the line alone."

The King nodded slowly. He looked at his council. "We cannot let Strathmore fall. It is the gateway to our northern lands. If Mercia takes it, they will be at our doorstep."

He turned his gaze to Derek.

"Grand Duke," the King said. "You are the new Commander. What is your counsel?"

Derek stepped forward. He didn’t hesitate. He had been preparing for this moment for years, studying maps in secret, analyzing old battle reports.

"Your Majesty," Derek began, his voice steady and confident. "A direct confrontation on the plains of Strathmore would be costly. Mercia has the advantage of numbers."

He walked to the large map table in the center of the room. The council gathered around him. Derek pointed to a range of hills on the map.

"Instead of meeting them head-on," Derek suggested, "we should use the terrain. I propose we send a vanguard unit to secure the Whispering Pass. It is a narrow gorge. If we hold that choke point, their numbers will mean nothing. We can bottle them up and force them to fight on our terms."

The generals murmured in approval. It was a sound strategy, one that minimized risk.

"And for the main force?" General Rogers asked, stroking his beard.

"We position the main force in the forest to the east," Derek answered, tracing the line of the trees. "Hidden. Waiting. When Mercia commits to the pass, we flank them. We cut off their supply lines."

The King nodded, impressed. "A pincer movement. Classic. But risky if they scout the woods."

"We will use decoys," Derek said. "Small units to draw their scouts away. We will make them think we are retreating to the capital."

Prince Liam, who had been silent until now, stepped up to the table. He looked at the map, then at Derek. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were cold.

"A sound plan, cousin," Liam said smoothly. "But you forget one thing."

He pointed to a river that cut through the map near the border.

"The River Swift," Liam said. "It is swollen this time of year. If you flank from the east, your supply wagons will get bogged down in the mud. Your men will be slow. Vulnerable."

Derek looked at the river. Liam was right. He had missed that detail.

"What do you suggest, Your Highness?" Derek asked, keeping his voice neutral.

Liam smiled thinly.

"Use the river," Liam said. "Don’t fight it. Use barges. Send your supplies down the river under the cover of night. It is faster. Silent. And it keeps your heavy wagons off the muddy roads, allowing your troops to move at double speed. I have someone who will be in charge of that."

The court went silent. It was a brilliant addition. It turned a weakness into a strength.

The King looked from Derek to Liam. He saw two capable leaders. He saw the future of his kingdom.

"Excellent," the King said. "Both of you. This is the strategy we will use. The pass. The flank. And the river."

He stood up. The room quieted instantly.

"Grand Duke Derek," the King announced. "I am entrusting this war to you. You will lead the combined armies of Eudora to Strathmore. You will defend our ally. You will drive Mercia back."

Derek knelt on one knee, bowing his head.

"I accept the command, Your Majesty," Derek said solemnly. "I will not fail you."

"Prepare your men," the King ordered. "You leave in seven days."

"Yes, Sire."

Derek stood up. The court began to disperse, the ministers already discussing budgets and logistics.

Derek walked out of the throne room, his mind already shifting gears. He thought about the supplies he would need. He thought about the transport barges Liam had suggested. He thought about the formations he would drill into his men.

But beneath the strategy, a heavy stone settled in his heart.

"Strathmore," he thought. "It is days away. The campaign could take months. Winter is coming."

He walked down the long palace corridor, his boots echoing on the marble.

"I will have to stay in the camp," he realized. "I will be living in a tent, planning. I won’t be coming home at night." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

He stopped by a window and looked out at the city.

"I will be away from home for a while," Derek thought, a pang of loneliness hitting him sharp and deep.

"I will be away from Marissa."

He thought of her face when she laughed. He thought of her warmth in the bed beside him. He thought of the way she had looked at him, full of trust and happiness.

They had just started. They had just found each other. And now, duty was pulling him away.

He clenched his fist on the window ledge.

"I have to go," he whispered to the glass. "To protect her. To find out what happened in Strathmore."

But the thought of leaving her, of leaving her alone made his chest ache.

He turned from the window. He had seven days. Five days to prepare the army. And two days to say goodbye.