Charlotte was already profoundly shocked after learning the news from the newspaper.
The Empire's high officials, great nobles, and even His Imperial Majesty, who had received the news from the battle reports, were more than ten times as shocked.
The Royal Navy of Fars's losses made every level of society, from top to bottom, ache beyond measure. Fars had accumulated this foundation over centuries; it had never been built in a day.
At the same time, the Empire completed every procedure at an unprecedented speed. Less than four hours after receiving the battle report, an official document had traveled from Strasbourg to the Imperial Rose Fleet. Menilman had been promoted several ranks, from a seventeenth-rank Imperial captain to a thirteenth-rank Imperial colonel, and he had been granted no fewer than twenty-two political appointments. It was the sort of thing that, if written into a novel, readers would curse as blatant padding.
The Empire of Fars's favor toward Menilman had increased countless times over.
Although Charlotte had also rendered countless merits, first, most of them had been on remote battlefields, and South Seraph was not one of the Empire's primary deployment zones. The two Brittany Offensives had both nominally had other commanders. Second, his contributions truly could not compare to Menilman's. Third, he had personally felt the coldness of serving a sovereign...
Charlotte was eating breakfast when Sophia Garland came to visit.
Frederica had not come. She had asked Sophia Garland to pass along a message that she would be going to Machu Picchu today to settle the first group of leopardfolk.
Charlotte invited the Strasbourg Rose to breakfast with him. Sophia did not refuse, but she ate with exceptional refinement, consuming only half a slice of bread and a cup of coffee.
As Charlotte casually brought up the great naval