He nodded, signaling for Karl to sit in the chair across from the desk, then returned to the main seat behind it.
"You arrived with the troops." The earl spoke, his tone a flat statement of fact rather than a question.
"Yes, my lord," Karl answered just as briefly. "Three thousand men, and three hundred cavalry. I led them personally."
The earl picked up the silver teacup on the desk and took a light sip of hot tea, yet his gaze passed through the curling steam, studying Karl thoughtfully.
"A little slower than I imagined." He set down the teacup, his fingers tapping lightly on the smooth desktop. "That is not quite the style of the army under Karl von Schmidt's command. I remember during the Carnford Defense Battle, your redeployment and counterattacks were famously swift and decisive."
Karl met his gaze and merely smiled faintly. "I was simply continuing to use a marching standard that has been proven 'effective.'"
He deliberately slowed his speech, enunciating every word clearly. "Earl Eisenberg's 'standard speed' when rushing to reinforce Carnford—I feel it is very much worth learning from."
When his words fell, the office sank into a brief silence.
The crackle of firewood burning in the hearth sounded especially clear, yet beneath that stillness, some invisible, unspoken undercurrent surged between the two men.
There was no need for another word of explanation. Both of them understood the icy calculations hidden beneath the other's words—delay, watch, avoid reaching the frontline too quickly, and if they could drag things out until Eisenberg's side had either already collapsed or fought the Sauron to mutual ruin, so much the better.
Deep within Earl Rochefort's ice-sealed eyes, there seemed to flash the faintest trace of cold light, almost approving and nearly impossible to notice.
Toward that colleague