Inside the carriage, the only sounds were the scratch of a pen across paper and the faint rustle of documents being picked up and set down.
Chris sat deep in a high-backed velvet seat. The folding mahogany desk before him was fully extended, covered not with maps but with stacks of files and reports demanding his attention.
He was busy-so busy that even aboard the train to Treasure Island, he had to make time to review and process documents.
Amid the faint scratching of his fountain pen, the door opened, and the Clerk entered, expressionless and dressed as plainly as ever.
He approached the desk and placed a red document before Chris.
"Urgent dispatch, Your Majesty."
Chris did not stop writing. He barely even lifted his gaze from the document before him.
He merely picked up the red-covered dispatch with his free left hand, flipped the cover open with a fingertip, and quickly skimmed it out of the corner of his eye... It looked less like reading than checking a prediction already formed in his mind.
Sure enough, the report detailed the movements of several rebel factions gathered on Treasure Island... The surviving nobles of the former dynasty were trying to empty their coffers to purchase weapons and equipment and recruit desperate men.
The report listed the quantities of firearms and ammunition these rebels had purchased, along with how many fools had been taken in by their slogans and joined the so-called Minisia Restoration Army, preparing to launch an "uprising" in Treasure Island City, kill Chris, and restore the rule of the Minicia Kingdom.
An almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips. But just as he was about to toss the document onto a corner of the desk, Chris paused and brought it back in front of him.
"Huh?"
As