The door closed behind them, sealing in the warm, spice-scented air. Kraft now wore a Golden Oak Leaf Badge on his chest. Professor Fernand had brought it, and the Duke of Westminster had pinned it on the recipient himself. Judging by how its weight dragged one side of Kraft's collar down, it was probably solid gold.
After leaving the room, Professor Fernand looked somewhat tired. He walked on ahead for a while, then stopped by a sunny window and complained to Kraft, who was walking with him. "Professor Kraft, as you saw, the Duke often has ideas of his own, which can make him seem confident to the point of stubbornness."
"Often?"
"Yes. In fact, you could say he's always been that way. He hasn't changed much since we first met as young men. It's something I've always admired." He straightened his mustache, centering it, his expression a complicated mix of nostalgia and emotion.
It sounded as though the Duke of Westminster and Fernand were actually the same age, and close friends to boot.
You wouldn't have guessed it. Even with tuberculosis and some unknown illness, the Duke rarely seemed tired when lucid. His hair, beard, and clothes were neatly kept, and he looked at least fifteen years younger than Professor Gandalf.
"His nature served him well in his younger days. Courage is undoubtedly a fine quality in a commander. But we must admit that everything has two sides. As a doctor and as a friend, I find such an aggressive approach to treatment worrying."
The worry seemed to age Fernand even further. It was hard to say which of them would give out first.
"I don't mean to interfere with the surgeons' plan. A new approach is an unexpected blessing, but before that, I'd like to hear your thoughts