"Eloise!"
Mrs. Severton walked quickly to her daughter and placed her hand on her shoulder.
She knew her daughter's character better than anyone.
As a child, she'd been spoiled due to her poor health, and as a result, she'd grown up to be headstrong—capable of anything.
Realizing the seriousness of the situation too late, Mrs. Severton had tirelessly taught her the manners of a lady. But it was impossible to change an already-formed strong character into a more docile one.
Fortunately, as she grew older—as if understanding her mother's feelings—she'd learned to behave decently enough not to arouse condemnation, at least in public.
But when it came to issues in which she was confident she was right, and someone expressed a different opinion, she would *certainly* enter into an argument.
And this despite being told many times to leave such matters to the men.
*"This is a gentleman's conversation. What do you know about war to speak so boldly?"*
Mrs. Severton turned away from her guests and glared at Eloise.
*Eloise, can't you behave yourself?*
The look was so eloquent that the words seemed to ring in the ears.
Usually, when her mother looked at her like that, Eloise—though she would pout—would remain silent out of respect.
But Mrs. Severton overlooked one important fact.
Her daughter admired Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave so much that she had even bought and hung his portrait.
"Why can't I speak out? You, Father, and Pastor Harrison—like me—learned about the war from the newspapers here in Feltham."
Mr. Severton clutched his forehead at the sudden and sharp attack from Eloise, who had been sitting quietly until then.
*"Well, I was wondering why she kept quiet when Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave came up. But as soon as criticism was voiced, she immediately jumped into action."*
Mrs. Harrison—although she had been the first to express her dissatisfaction with Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave—retreated under Eloise's pressure and turned away, making it clear she was no longer taking part in this conversation.
An awkward silence fell.
Sergeant Thornton was the first to break it.
"I've seen Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave much closer than you can imagine, Miss Severton. Therefore—as you said—I, unlike you, who only learned about him from printed words in this remote place, have a better right to judge him."
It was a polite reproach, meaning: *"What can you know compared to me, who saw everything with my own eyes?"*
But Eloise did not back down.
"If distance were the measure of human understanding, there would be no such thing as strategy in the world, Sergeant."
*...*
Ryan paused for a moment at Eloise's response.
*She was right.*
"However, this doesn't give us grounds to ignore information obtained up close. Surely you wouldn't deny that to understand the enemy, you first need to get close."
"Of course not. But!"
Eloise stepped forward, standing directly in front of him and meeting his gaze.
"At least when it comes to the Battle of Ingon, I can confidently say I understand Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave's thoughts better than you, Sergeant."
---
Ryan sighed as he looked at Miss Severton, who—unwilling to give in—looked him straight in the eye.
*"What could she possibly know?"*
The Battle of Ingon was what he was *still* dragged to the war council for.
A battle in which, thanks to an incompetent commander, four infantry battalions had been on the brink of total annihilation. Facing the advancing enemy, he'd had to make a choice.
Die a glorious death as an Albion soldier while fighting the enemy—or, realizing the hopelessness of the situation, quickly retreat and save lives.
A soldier should have chosen the first. But he chose the second.
It had been a failed tactic from the start. No matter how much he thought about it, if they had gone on the attack, only senseless death would have awaited them.
If he'd been alone, he might have chosen the former. At twenty-nine, he felt no particular attachment to life. So dying with honor would have been acceptable.
But he was not alone.
*Charles, who said he would definitely return home and get married this year. Adjutant Henry, who said that if he believed the lieutenant colonel and followed him, he would see his daughter alive. Rob, who had already lost two fingers but had to stay in the army to earn food for his family.*
All these comrades—who, in contrast to his joyless life, made him feel alive—served in the Fifty-Seventh Infantry Battalion.
So, in the end, he disobeyed his command. Instead of rushing forward in a show of bravery and dying like the previous commander, he quickly withdrew the battalion.
Of course, the battle was lost. A complete defeat—so complete that only his battalion remained combat-ready.
After this, many began pointing fingers at him. Even some of his own battalion accused him of disgracing them.
And then it happened that he caught a spy and saved the prince's life, and the Queen awarded him a medal. She even recognized the independence of his battalion.
After this, he began to perform even more feats and soon became known as a war hero.
Naturally, the Battle of Ingon was almost never mentioned. After all, news of victories was far more welcome than of defeats.
But those who disliked him continued to cling to the story of Ingon.
At first, he tried to explain that in that situation—with those tactics and the state of the troops—retreat was the best option.
But those who were hostile did not want to listen to him.
Whatever he said, they found fault with everything and stubbornly insisted on their own version.
Conversations with such people were exhausting to the limit.
Constantly proving to everyone that he had done the right thing was terribly tiring.
So Ryan developed a habit. Whenever anyone mentioned the Battle of Ingon, he'd say: *"You're right, I retreated out of cowardice, and if there's punishment for it, I'll take it."*
After such words, the interlocutor usually fell silent.
This went on for several months, and now the Battle of Ingon had become his greatest sin.
So much so that others thought so too—and Ryan himself subconsciously began to consider himself a coward.
And now, in this godforsaken place, a woman who didn't even know who he was... was *protecting* him.
And with such sincere indignation, as if it concerned her personally.
---
"Eloise, I understand your feelings for Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave, but..."
Mr. Severton, knowing about his daughter's admiration, hastened to intervene.
The dinner had ended so well.
Besides, Sergeant Thornton had turned out to be a much more educated and well-mannered man than they'd expected, and he wanted to maintain good relations with him.
"Do you think I'm saying this out of blind devotion to the lieutenant colonel?"
With these words, Eloise walked over to the bookcase in the living room and pulled out a stack of papers.
These were newspaper clippings with maps. Naturally, they were all connected to Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave.
Eloise laid out the troop deployment diagrams from the newspapers on the map and began to explain.
How disastrous the plan for the Battle of Ingon had been from the very beginning. What the terrain was like at the time. What the state of the attacking battalions had been.
Eloise's explanation was so clear that even Mrs. Harrison—who was completely ignorant of such things—understood everything.
And at the same time, it was so detailed that everyone understood why he'd had to make such a decision, and what the result would have been if he had acted differently.
Having finished her explanation, Eloise—unable to hide her excitement—turned to Sergeant Thornton.
"Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave saved soldiers who were doomed to die because of a faulty order. He himself took the path of a coward to save others, even if it meant court-martialling himself. That's why!"
Eloise slammed the map shut, walked up to Sergeant Thornton, and—looking him straight in the eye—said:
**"I wish you'd be more grateful to the lieutenant colonel, who protected not only you, but also the soldiers of your battalion, and the peace of their families!"**
When Eloise finished, Pastor Harrison—who had been listening to her with his mouth open—almost clapped, but came to his senses in time.
*...*
In response to Eloise's words, Ryan merely ran his hand over his chin—which had been clean-shaven before his arrival—and said nothing.
"And now, if you please, I'll retire to my room. I wish you all a pleasant conversation."
Eloise curtsied as politely and perfectly as she could, turned, and walked up to the second floor.
---
The others exchanged awkward glances. Ryan glanced briefly at the stairs Eloise had climbed, then turned away.
---
## — Departure —
The conversation soon ended.
Mrs. Harrison—being already of an advanced age—could not overcome drowsiness and began to nod off.
Realizing it would be impolite to stay in someone else's house any longer, the guests rose and left Mr. Severton's home.
"How are you getting back?"
"I left my horse at the inn. Even though it's night, the moon is shining brightly—I'll arrive safely."
Hearing Sergeant Thornton's answer, Mr. Severton paused a moment and then said:
"I apologize for this evening. My daughter is very sensitive to everything connected with Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave. She even hung his portrait on the wall!"
"Ah... so that's why she knew this face."
"What face?"
"Nothing. Please pass this on to Miss Eloise."
He looked at the illuminated windows of the second floor and said:
**"Thank you for her understanding, Lieutenant Colonel Wilgrave."**