The Morning After – Leadership Begins
The next day, Vera's new reality set in.
She had fought for her right to command.
Now, she had to live up to it.
She sat at the head of Fantasia's war room, her arms crossed as she scanned the reports stacked in front of her.
Battle reports.
Territory defenses.
Supply chain distributions.
She could fight for days without breaking a sweat, but staring at this sea of parchment, numbers, and tactical breakdowns?
It gave her a bigger headache than any battle ever had.
The First Command Meeting – Resistance from Officers
"With all due respect," said Commander Berrick, a grizzled veteran who had been with the military for decades, "I don't see why we need to change anything. Fantasia's defenses have held for generations under this structure."
Vera narrowed her eyes.
"Yeah? And the last war almost wiped us out."
Berrick bristled. "And yet, we survived. My point is—why fix what isn't broken?"
Vera tapped her fingers against the table.
"You think nothing's broken?" she asked. "We have outdated battle formations, slow response times, and zero adaptability in field combat."
A few of the officers exchanged glances.
"You're exaggerating," Berrick scoffed. "Our soldiers are well-trained, disciplined, and efficient—"
"Disciplined, yeah. Efficient? Not always." Vera leaned forward. "Tell me, how long did it take our eastern unit to respond to that last border skirmish?"
Silence.
She already knew the answer.
"Four days." Vera let the weight of it sink in. "Four days to respond to a hostile force attacking our people. That's not discipline. That's a disaster waiting to happen."
Vera took a deep breath, then stood, pulling a map of Fantasia's military divisions across the table.
"Here's what's changing," she said.
"No more slow bureaucratic chains. Every region will have a rapid-response unit, able to move within hours, not days." We need backup command centers, spread across key regions."
The officers murmured among themselves.
Berrick still looked unconvinced, but some of the others nodded in approval.
"You're restructuring the entire military," one officer said.
"Yeah," Vera said, crossing her arms. "Because we're not gonna wait for war to come to us. We'll be ready when it does."
"Lady Vera," an older councilman spoke from across the room, his tone polite but rigid. "You must understand that such drastic shifts in policy require approval from the council."
Vera narrowed her eyes.
"The council?" she echoed. "Since when does the council run the military?"
"We oversee all matters of governance," he replied. "Including resource allocation. And a full restructuring requires funding, authorization, and careful implementation."
Vera bit the inside of her cheek.
She hated bureaucracy.
She had assumed that now that she was in charge, she could make the calls.
Instead, she was realizing—commanding an army meant navigating politics too.
By the time the meeting ended, Vera felt like she had fought another battle.
The officers respected her more than yesterday.
But respect didn't mean compliance.
Some were still skeptical. Some were resistant to change.
And the damn council?
They were another beast entirely.
Vera slammed her fist onto the table the moment the room emptied.
"Politics," she muttered under her breath.
She hadn't signed up for this.
She wanted to fight. To lead.
Instead, she was stuck debating funding allocations and logistics.
A chuckle from the doorway made her look up.
Rhyker.
"You're learning the hard way, huh?" he said, leaning against the wall.
Vera exhaled sharply. "Tell me this gets easier."
Rhyker shrugged. "Nope. But you'll get better at it."
Vera rolled her shoulders. "I'd rather be back in the ring."
"Then think of this as another kind of fight," Rhyker said, stepping forward. "You don't just need to win battles on the field. You need to win the minds of your soldiers and the trust of your higher-ups."
Vera stayed quiet for a moment.
Then, reluctantly, she nodded.
"Yeah," she muttered. "Guess I do."
Vera thought leading an army would be like leading in battle.
She was wrong.
The fight to earn her soldiers' respect had been brutal.
But the fight to maintain control?
That was just the beginning.
It was barely midday, and Vera had already attended three meetings, reviewed two battle reports, and rejected six useless proposals.
She had expected command to mean leading on the battlefield.
Instead, she was buried in logistics, politics, and strategy.
And worst of all?
Resistance.
"Commander Vera," said Lord Marek, one of Fantasia's political overseers, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're restructuring an entire military division in less than a week. Do you not think that's… rash?"
Vera leaned back in her chair, unimpressed. "You mean efficient."
Marek sighed. "I mean reckless."
Vera's golden eyes narrowed.
She wasn't stupid.
Marek and some of the other council members didn't want change. They liked the old ways—the slow, predictable chain of command.
Too bad.
"I was put in this position to make us stronger," Vera said. "So, I'm making us stronger."
"You're acting without proper consultation," Marek countered. "The King should—"
"The King trusts me to handle this," Vera interrupted, voice cold. "Unless you think you know better than the person who put me in charge?"
Marek hesitated.
He didn't like her, but he also wasn't stupid enough to challenge Kairo's decision outright.
Vera smirked. "Glad we're on the same page."
Marek exhaled sharply, defeated.
One problem down.
A hundred more to go.
Just as Vera was finishing her latest round of reports, an urgent messenger burst into the war room.
"Commander! We have a problem!"
Vera looked up immediately. "Talk."
The messenger unfurled a map, pointing to the southern border of Fantasia.
"An enemy force was spotted near the Valin Outpost. They're moving fast. Too fast."
Vera frowned, standing. "How many?"
"Small group. Maybe fifteen to twenty fighters. But their movements—they're coordinated. Not a random band of raiders."
The officers in the room exchanged wary glances.
Berrick, the same veteran who had doubted her before, crossed his arms.
"We don't have enough intel," he said. "We should hold back until we assess the situation."
Vera stared at him.
"Hold back?" she repeated.
"We don't know what we're dealing with," Berrick insisted. "Sending forces in blind could be dangerous."
Vera clenched her jaw.
This was exactly the kind of slow-thinking, overly cautious strategy that almost got Fantasia wiped out in past wars.
She looked at the map.
The enemy was already moving.
Waiting meant giving them the advantage.
Her golden eyes hardened.
"No," she said. "We move now."
Berrick's expression darkened. "You're making a mistake."
Vera ignored him, turning to the messenger.
"Deploy a Rapid Response Unit. Small team—fast, skilled, in and out. We intercept them before they reach the outpost."
The messenger nodded and ran off.
Vera turned back to the officers, arms crossed.
"If you don't like it," she said flatly, "fight me about it."
Silence.
No one challenged her.