Not long after he finished writing and sending his reply, a dull rumble sounded, and the train gradually slowed down.
Looks like we've arrived...
Lorne put away the pen and paper on the table, walked over to the window, lifted a corner of the curtain, and glanced outside.
There were no banners bearing extravagant slogans, no wildly cheering crowds, and no reporters carrying an arsenal of cameras...
The deserted platform made him breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed the Military had indeed honored his request to keep things low-key and kept the Private Train's arrival time confidential.
The reporters and crowds in Pritz Harbor had already been enthusiastic enough. Backlund would surely be even worse. If his whereabouts leaked, he didn't dare imagine what would happen. The train station would probably be packed to bursting...
"Sure enough, being too famous isn't exactly a good thing..." Lorne let the curtain fall and sighed.
Over the past two days on the train home, although he had told the accompanying adjutant early on that he was exhausted and didn't want to be disturbed, there were always generals or senior officials who thought their status entitled them to something. They shamelessly came to visit, finding all sorts of excuses to chat with him.
Faced with these important figures, he couldn't very well throw them out. He could only receive them patiently.
Whenever sensitive subjects came up, however, he laughed them off and muddled through.
Some simply wanted to befriend him, some came fishing for information, and others seemed to have sought his help because of the scandals...
There were even people who proposed marriage alliances outright. One vice admiral assured him that, if Lorne agreed to marry his daughter, he could use his connections at Military Headquarters to help Lorne gradually swallow his