She could clearly hear the young soldiers beside her breathing heavily, see their hands trembling as they gripped their weapons, and feel the fear hanging thick in the air.
A hundred thousand—this number alone was enough to make even battle-hardened veteran soldiers tremble inwardly, let alone these troops, most of whom were facing a spectacle of such magnitude for the first time.
"Hold steady! Warriors of Rhineland!" Charlotte's clear voice rang out, overpowering the wind and reaching the soldiers in the front ranks. "Remember your training. Trust those beside you! Behind us lies our homeland! There is no retreat!"
Her words were not particularly impassioned, yet they carried an unquestionable resolve. She drew her sword, its blade tracing a chilling arc beneath the dim daylight. "Today, I stand with you! Glory to Rhineland!"
The soldiers looked at their young female knight, at the unwavering gaze beneath her helmet plume. The panic in their hearts seemed to be soothed a little by her eyes and words. Their formation steadied once more, and subdued voices of agreement rose through the ranks.
Yet only Charlotte herself knew that her heart was pounding in her chest like a war drum, and sweat had begun to gather in the palm gripping her reins. The pressure brought by that boundless enemy formation was so real, so crushing.
Against her will, she thought of her son Klein, far away in the safety of the rear—of his soft calls and innocent smile. She thought of Karl, the figure hidden deep within her heart. A thread of sorrow and a fierce resolve surged up at once—perhaps they would never see one another again.
But that thought lasted only an instant before it was crushed beneath a stronger sense of duty and an iron will.
No, she could not retreat.