Chapter 5: Everyone report to the dance floor
July 11, 1927
General Staff Office, Imperial Capital Berun
If there was one thing that every officer above the rank of major on the General Staff could agree on, it was that unexpected phone calls never brought good news. Never.
It might seem like a statistical impossibility in a nation that had successfully waged war for over four years, a country which now occupied so much enemy territory it had practically doubled in size. But somehow, good news was always shouted down the hall or brought by an adjutant. Bad news, on the other hand, would wait until you picked up the phone to let you know what it was.
So, when his own adjutant came to inform him that Lieutenant General von Romel was on the line, Colonel von Lehrgen already knew it wasn't to share good tidings. In fact, the conversation was liable to be downright unpleasant. Romel was known for many things, but an easygoing nature was not one of them. He was a man with little patience and less tact. Lehrgen got along fine with him so far as they knew each other, but that didn't mean Romel wouldn't give him an earful.
Degurechaff had been sent down to join the lieutenant general on the Southern Continent some two weeks prior. Negotiations were finally closing with the Ildoans, but before they signed off on anything, they wanted a first-hand look at the situation. Lehrgen had tasked Degurechaff with showing it to them. It was imperative to convince Ildoa of their proposed ally's strength, and he could think of no unit that exuded an air of invincibility the way that hers did.
Granted, it was all for show. There were no battles planned, simply some audacious training maneuvers that would give the Ildoans something to be amazed by. Romel was probably calling to complain about how useless his favorite feral pet was now that she had to play nice for diplomacy's sake.
As soon as Lehrgen picked up the receiver, Romel's uncharacteristically festive mood engendered an ominous feeling in his gut. The summer months in the desert tended to see the least amount of action, and thus very little cause for celebration. With a low chance of anything besides a minor skirmish, there had seemed no safer time to send an observation party.
"Congratulations, Colonel," came through the line.
Lehrgen began to dread the rest of the conversation. Something must have gone much differently than planned if he was getting unsolicited praise from one of the army's toughest commanders.
"You've figured out how to use Degurechaff to her full potential," Romel continued. "Letting her choose how to fight her own battles is the right way of doing it. Restricting her with too many orders never ends well."
Something was definitely wrong. Seriously wrong, in fact. Nothing about his orders to guide a few friendly spectators around to help them understand the current positions suggested that Degurechaff should do anything close to her full potential. No one wanted a reckless ally.
Lehrgen pinched the bridge of his nose as Romel continued talking. The Republic had been trapped and forced to evacuate over the water as far back as Sfaqes. There was little military value in the territory south of the city, but it would give the Empire breathing room now that they possessed more than a foothold above the Sahara.
No one could argue it wasn't a major victory. But being brought along on a mission of any range during the middle of the day in the dead heat of summer, skirting the edge of a passing sandstorm as cover, was the exact opposite of how he'd intended the Ildoans to be treated.
As usual, the casualties were surprisingly low given what Degurechaff had accomplished, but any casualties at all among the Ildoan observers was a problem. They were hesitant enough as it stood. Had he not been specific enough when he'd told her to treat them gently?
No, it's my own fault, Lehrgen groaned to himself, recalling the exact words he'd used. To anyone else, "treat them like they're our own" would have conveyed the appropriate message - be careful with them - but to her, treating troops like her own meant casual and repeated near-death encounters on raids that sounded impossible to anyone that didn't know her.
At least he hadn't said to treat them like family. Given that she was an orphan, she'd probably have interpreted it as a coded message that he wanted the Ildoans dead.
He couldn't even bring himself to be angry with her over it. He should have known better. Trying to reprimand her over it would only result in her being confused. In her mind, she surely thought she'd followed her orders to the letter.
He'd told her to impress them. Whether they were impressed by her formidable ability to outmaneuver enemies or impressed by how little she cared about the sanctity of human life remained to be seen.
Lehrgen sighed and picked up his phone again. Hopefully, Mrs. Schneider would be free to accompany Mr. Schneider on a summer holiday back to Ildoa so that Mr. Schneider could beg his guests' forgiveness for letting the family dog bite them.
Intelligence gave Elya the go-ahead, and they were on a train the next morning. This time, instead of asking after his secrets, the woman who accompanied him shared no few that didn't rightly belong to her. She wasn't shy about disclosing her own either. Apparently, his companion was allergic to silence. To fill the time, most of the ride was filled with an almost unceasing recounting of her personal life. By the end, Lehrgen thought he might know more about her than he did about himself.
Once they'd covered that topic sufficiently, Elya had drawn a few notebooks out of the designer bag that, according to her personal history, she'd bought as a souvenir in Parisee. The journals weren't old, but were already well-worn, the pages crinkled so that they no longer lay flat. In small, crowded writing she'd recorded an extensive array of information on the private lives of anyone remotely notable in Ruma. More than that, she gave a recounting of deeds no one wanted publicly known about themselves.
Antonio Messe, tax evasion. Not terribly uncommon, except in the amount of revenue he'd managed to hide from the government. Vittorio Graziani, bribery of judges. Also a somewhat common practice in Ruma's political scene. Neither of those was likely to elicit much of a response.
Then, she got to the salacious stuff. Vittorio Graziani, drug trafficking. Luigi Dallolio,
human trafficking. Pietro Boselli, several affairs with the wives of other politicians. Silvio Berluscone, the
daughters of other politicians.
Briefly, Lehrgen wondered what damning information Elya had on notable names from Preussland, but ultimately, he decided it was best not to ask. There were no pleasant surprises found in her notes. If it turned out that his brother was in fact his half-brother, as the pages in front of him suggested was more common than you'd think, he'd lived almost thirty-four years not knowing that, and he was prepared to live another thirty-four not knowing it either.
On the other hand, if a certain Ildoan politician by the name of Alfredo D'Annunzio, who Lehrgen knew would jump at any excuse to derail the alliance, didn't want his fondness for the young men working as his aides to be the subject of tomorrow's morning edition, it would be best if he kept his mouth shut and voted in favor of the agreement.
He'd let Elya determine how to discreetly make that known. Lehrgen's only official point of contact was Signor Boroni, whose company he'd grown to enjoy. He wouldn't want to ruin their camaraderie by making the man pass along threats.
His initial impression was that Ildoa needed no reassurance. Elya reported back that there were already signs they were mobilizing. They must have decided that when it came to Degurechaff's brutal efficiency, "efficient" was the part to concentrate on.
A few days into his stay, Boroni owned up to the real reason.
"I should not tell you this, my friend," Boroni sighed, lighting a cigar. "But you don't complain when I talk too much about my mother-in-law. Everyone else tells me theirs is worse. You don't have one. And besides, I know that girl of yours knows things about me."
Lehrgen put his fork down. It wasn't a mealtime, but he hadn't been able to help himself when a plate of fresh fruit had been brought in mid-morning.
"They didn't tell me in advance," he continued, gaze souring. "It's easier to make friends when you don't think you're lying to them."
Lehrgen pulled out a cigarette from his pocket to preempt whatever bad news he was about to hear.
"With how quickly you're advancing down south, all the politicians think you have your eyes on the prize."
"We'd much rather leave Turus for you to take," Lehrgen placated, though he wasn't entirely sure that was true. It was better than letting the Ildoans think there'd be nothing left for them to claim after they joined the war, the crown jewel they coveted in the hands of another power.
"But if you're focused there, it makes one wonder if you've taken your eyes off somewhere you consider safe," Boroni finished, eyeing the map on the table.
Lehrgen didn't need to look to know what he meant by that, to know that he wouldn't be able to finish another bite of fruit. Unredeemed Ildoa had always been a minor point of contention between their countries, but Ildoa had no hope of winning it from the Empire in a one-on-one war. Now, though, with more powerful enemies providing cover for them, it could be their chance.
"And if we promised a fair plebiscite after the war?"
Boroni opened his hands expansively. "Of course, we would take that into consideration."
"Then you'll excuse me for the day," Lehrgen replied, pushing his chair back to rise.
First, he found Elya, to have her gather as much information as she could about the specifics of their military strength, and to figure out who the main instigators of this turnaround in events was. If a few key players could be pressured into changing their minds, that might be all that was necessary. As soon as he was done with that, he sent an encoded message home, asking for permission to make such a promise.
Lehrgen knew it wasn't Degurechaff's fault, exactly, that the government left him waiting weeks for a response. Politicians didn't tend to make decisions quickly, so it was only natural that he was stuck down there while they debated.
Spring in Ruma had been a pleasant affair of breezy days and cool nights. Rain had been occasional, but there was no more of it than there was at home. The end of summer was oppressive in its heat, the days filled with a beating, unrelenting sun. The nights offered little relief. The humidity turned the air into a heavy blanket of suffocating stillness.
An evening stroll under the trees lining the river could only be undertaken if the walker was unbothered by the odor of rotting vegetation and old fish. The scent of rancid garbage emanated from even the smallest alleyway. Temporary respite could only be found in restaurants and cafés, where the smell of exquisite food and coffee overpowered all else.
The residents of Ruma took their dinners after the sun had left the sky and the heat of the day had somewhat abated. It was a sensible adaptation to the climate, but it meant that an open window at night was an invitation for the noise of the ebullient city to invade. Even children could be heard playing in the streets past midnight.
Lehrgen knew he couldn't blame Degurechaff for it. But after somewhere around his eleventh night in a row tossing in bed and swearing never to spend summer south of the Alps again, it became hard not to.
When he got the letter ordering him home, he would have given anything to stay. Home could only mean one thing. There was no future of negotiations with Ildoa.
"Do the politicians not consider it a real threat?" Lehrgen asked General von Rudersdorf, pacing in front of the other man's desk instead of taking the chair that was offered. "Lieutenant Weber's intelligence confirms what I was told by my contact. She managed to scare enough of them back into neutrality, but if things get worse for us..."
"Our Slovanian territory is protected by mountains," Rudersdorf sighed. "The consensus is that we can hold off the Ildoans with the small garrison we have stationed there. Beat the Federation and we could turn around on them before they've done any serious damage."
"And then what, Ugoslavija decides it's time to take Kroatia because we can't be bothered to defend our own territory properly anymore?" he snapped.
"You don't have to tell me," Rudersdorf placated.
"Apologies, sir," Lehrgen replied, swallowing his anger.
His superior gave another sigh. "Problem is, each time we've mentioned we're getting too thin, we always manage to pull out another win. I'm not sure the
Reichstag believes us anymore when we claim we can't do it."
It was a fight not to slam the door on the way out as Lehrgen went back to his office to pray that the assault being planned on Stalyngrad would cripple the Federation's strength enough to keep peace in the south.
August 15, 1927
General Staff Office, Imperial Capital Berun
The next time he saw Degurechaff was in his office, it was with a sunny smile on her face.
"Were our friends impressed?" she asked, the first thing out of her mouth after their perfunctory greetings.
Lehrgen thought about delivering the lecture he'd dreamt up after suffering through countless nights of troubled sleep. He'd told her off a thousand times already in his head.
That will have to be good enough, he told himself. If he spoiled her good attitude towards him, he was positive she'd find a way of making him suffer for it. From the reports about her month training the 203rd, she derived an unseemly amount of glee out of torment.
"Not exactly the way I intended. But the Kaiser was," Lehrgen sighed, picking up the envelope containing information on her next assignment.
She was back in the capital because she'd turned out to be a surprisingly effective teacher. Her battalion remained in the south with Romel, but she'd been recalled to take up her training post as well as serve a stint as guest instructor at the War College. The General Staff was eager for her to produce as many officers as she could who were capable of following her model of rapid, independent action.
Her students, most of whom were at least twice her age, all lived in mortal fear of her, but so far, there were no attempted murders.
Degurechaff had stepped closer, and she glanced down as she took the envelope from him. Her face morphed into disappointment at catching sight of the article he was reading in his copy of
The Times. A grainy photo of her in Arene, an extracted record from a Republican soldier's computation orb, graced the page.
"They can hardly fault a soldier for following orders," she muttered sullenly.
In most cases, Lehrgen would entirely agree. Directly disobeying objectionable orders was classed under the heading of things easier said than done. But she hadn't raised a single complaint. The corps commander that had delivered the orders to her had come to confide in Lehrgen later over how badly her calm attitude towards the ordeal had shaken him. She'd apparently even smiled when he'd given her the news.
"Let's hope it doesn't happen again," he replied, as a means of avoiding explicitly agreeing with her.
"You don't think there will be any trouble over it after the war, do you, sir?"
"Not if we win," he said, "and if we don't, the
Reichsgericht ruled in favor of the War College's interpretation of that particular law."
"That's no guarantee an international tribunal would rule the same," she replied.
"It's not," he agreed. "Especially if it comes to light you presented the original argument. But I've read the brief myself. It's quite…convincing."
The legal case was so convincing, in fact, that Lehrgen had needed to remind himself numerous times that it was Degurechaff herself who'd made those tragic orders possible.
"I simply presented an academic argument, sir."
As someone who enjoyed theoretical debate himself, he was loathe to criticize the practice. But she'd presented her thesis to a War College instructor while her country was at war. Only an idiot would hand a loaded gun to someone already involved in a fistfight and not realize they might use it. And whatever else she was, Degurechaff was not an idiot.
"May I ask where you found a copy of the brief so that I might see it for myself?" she continued.
Lehrgen shook his head. "I knew someone who worked on the case," he said, by way of explanation.
His acquaintance had been so impressed by Degurechaff's paper that Lehrgen was half-afraid the man was going to launch a public movement to allow women to practice law over it. Not that he minded in theory, but under no circumstances did he want the girl in front of him licensed. She might decide one day it would be fun to see just how many laws she could render meaningless via loopholes.
Degurechaff's head perked up momentarily, but she gave a nod, a salute, and then left without further comment.
xXx
Walking into work with a smile on a Monday morning wasn't something most employees could do without forcing it. For Tanya von Degurechaff, the event was rarer still. Perhaps if she regularly got weekends off, she'd be able to face the start of the work week with a grin more often. But a day like today deserved her very best.
First and foremost, her dependable superior officer had made good on his promise to respect her wishes when it came to her assignments. Her only enemy for the next few weeks would be overambitious students keeping her after class and cutting into her vacation time.
The second piece of good news was that her prospects for after the war were looking up. She'd considered a legal career for future employment, so if one of her closest associates was acquainted with a high-up judge, that could be counted as a foot already in the door. So long as the antiquated laws on who could and couldn't practice law were revised in the aftermath of the war, she'd have a degree that promised a cushy job in no less than ten years' time.
She shouldn't have overlooked the possibility that Lehrgen might have some useful connections outside the Army. He had been the one to help install the new Empire-friendly government in Lietuva. You couldn't do something like that without moving in the right circles.
And for once, fate was smiling kindly down on her. Networking for another job while in the office was a bit crass, but there was no rule saying you couldn't have an informal chat over lunch. Two days later, she ran into Lehrgen at her favorite café.
Naturally, he accepted the offer for a seat at her table instead of standing in line. She eased into the conversation and let him pick the subject to begin with. The key to networking, at least to start off, was not to let the other party know you were networking. The minute they sensed you were being friendly for ulterior motives, it was a huge turn-off. When they became comfortable that your presence was genuine companionship, that was the moment to strike.
Partway through the meal, an opportunity finally presented itself. Nothing too strong from her part, of course. Just an innocent show of curiosity.
"About the law, it's a fascinating subject to study, don't you think?" she began.
Lehrgen seemed a bit startled at the turn the conversation took, but a comment like that wasn't enough to arouse suspicion.
"I guess that's true," he replied. "Is there anything in particular you're interested in?"
"I started off with a focus on regulations," she answered, with some honesty. Getting too political could be dangerous, but the General Staff had even more severe views than her own on that subject. Her service record was a testament to their commitment to not giving their employees paid holidays. Their take on child labor laws didn't even need to be touched on. "Truthfully, I think there's a lot of restrictions that I could live without."
Lehrgen made a face at his food. Even officers like the two of them were eating poorly these days, so the taste was never very good. "Is that so?" he asked.
"It's something I'd love to talk to an expert on. There's only so much you can learn from reading."
"...that's true. I'm not sure I could be of much help. Besides military law, I'm not very familiar with the subject."
"In that case, I wouldn't mind debating you on it one day, sir," she offered, an easy transition into what she really wanted to say. "Though come to think of it, didn't you know someone in the field?"
"His specialty is international law."
Even better. Getting in touch with a person like that would be more than a mere career move. They didn't have too long until nuclear fission would be discovered, and by then, it might be too late to prevent an arms race. Someone had to be the one to propose a ban on turning the technology into a weapon. A top-class judge in international law wouldn't be the worst person to have the ear of.
"Oh, that's much more exciting," Tanya replied, giving her best smile to her lunchmate. "It's the most complex of all. There's no international body capable of enforcement, so it all comes down to persuading other countries to see things your way."
Lehrgen bumped his chest twice with his fist like the dried out meat had stuck in his throat.
"Ah, well, with the war going on, I'm afraid he must be very busy."
It was a bit disappointing, but it wasn't a firm no. As soon as the geopolitical scene quieted down some, she could bring it up again.
To her surprise, Lehrgen pushed his half-full plate of food away.
"Is everything alright, sir?"
The menu had gone downhill in the past year, but she didn't think they'd gotten so desperate as to serve anything spoiled. Just in case she needed to stop eating her own meal partway through, she should check if there was a reason.
"There's some days I find it hard to eat much," he replied with a grimace.
Now that was something Tanya could sympathize with. On the front, she had a reason to stuff herself as full as she could - she'd need those calories to replenish her mana. But with the quality of meals suffering due to the blockades, it didn't inspire an office worker to eat more than necessary.
"To tell you the truth, sir, I can't work up a full appetite unless I'm heading to battle either."
Ahh, that might have been a little heavy, Tanya sighed, seeing the pained look on his face. She'd have to read the atmosphere better next time.
September 20, 1927
General Staff Office, Imperial Capital Berun
Tomorrow, Lehrgen repeated to himself, looking across his desk at the calendar.
She'll be gone tomorrow.
Degurechaff was due for departure back to the Southern Continent. His meals would finally be peaceable again. After that first disaster, she'd managed to interrupt his lunch no fewer than four more times. And to rub salt in the wound, he'd been forced to pay for her on top of it. Every time a waiter caught sight of her pulling out her wallet, he would stare at Lehrgen like he was the lowest form of life on the planet.
If Degurechaff was a typical fourteen-year-old girl who wanted to talk about dresses or something, he might not have minded paying for her. He'd never taken much of a liking to fashion, but by their third meal together, he'd briefly closed his eyes and prayed for that to be her topic of choice. At least then he'd just have been bored and not disturbed.
On that subject, he had one more order of business to take care of before she left. He caught up with her in the hall as she returned from a meeting, hoping it would be the last he'd see of her for a few weeks.
"Your request to give your unit a week's reprieve before the next offensive was approved," he told her, starting off with business.
Aside, possibly, from Degurechaff, all the other members of the 203rd were human. A common soldier might be able to perform passably well when exhausted, but magic calculations required mental acuity. Their commander might have managed to teach them how to work under poor conditions, but even then it had only been a month spent operating above capacity. The 203rd was going on half a year.
"And," Lehrgen continued, pulling an embossed envelope from his papers, "you've managed to earn an invite to the ball the royal family funds for the Kaiserin's birthday."
"It seems a bit out of touch in the middle of a war," she said, taking the invitation from his hand.
"It's not nearly as extravagant as it used to be. And there is value in putting on a show of normalcy," he countered.
"I suppose you're right," she said, but shook her head anyway. "I won't be missed at an event of that size."
"You can't turn this down, Lieutenant Colonel."
"I'll be busy with work."
"You'll be on holiday."
"It will be the next to last night, so I'll have to look at the plans for when we're back to the Southern Continent to see if updates need to be made."
Is working the only thing she knows how to do? Lehrgen wondered with exasperation. She was acting like taking a night off from plotting out new ways of killing people was the end of the world.
Realistically, he'd be perfectly fine with her not attending. The thought of her speaking directly to politicians was stomach-turning. But whoever had put her name on the list would not forget the slight. This was not an invite typically extended to an officer of her rank who hadn't been born into the right family. It would end up reflecting poorly back on him if she failed to make an appearance.
"For your own future, it's best if you go," he emphasized.
"Alright, sir. I'll be there," she said, with a heavy sigh.
"May I ask why work sounds so much more appealing?"
"I haven't had the time to acquire the skill set for such events," she said, breaking eye contact and looking down. "I hope no one expects me to dance."
Now there's a funny thought. It was hard not to laugh, though when his amusement faded, it was replaced by a twinge of guilt. From the way she was staring at the floor and fidgeting, he suspected she was telling him the truth. She'd be out of her element and was nervous about making a fool out of herself. A perfectly normal reason.
"You get to bring someone along with you, so you won't be alone," he reassured her.
She considered for a moment. "I think Lieutenant Serebryakov would enjoy the chance to attend," she mused.
"Major Weiss might be a more orthodox choice," Lehrgen countered. It could be overlooked due to her age, but bringing along another woman would turn a few heads. "I can take Serebryakov if you'd like."
Her eyes narrowed in obvious distrust. The one time he was trying to help her, and she thought his motives suspect. He had a free ticket himself, and had simply figured it would be easier on everyone if Degurechaff had someone there to guide her.
"I'll hand her off to you as soon as we're there," he soothed.
"Thank you, sir," she intoned politely. "I would appreciate it."
"Consider it done. Though if you don't mind, please pass the invite along to her on my behalf."
"Sir, will I need to wear all my decorations on my dress uniform?" she asked. "They can be a bit...much."
If she didn't even know that one wore a dress, and not a dress uniform, to a ball, she'd be even more out of depth than he thought.
"Lieutenant Colonel von Degurechaff."
"Yes, sir?"
"You do realize this isn't a military event?"
"Yes, sir," she replied evenly.
"Your dress uniform is not appropriate attire."
"I don't own any dresses," she said flatly.
"Do you wear nothing but your uniform?"
"No, sir."
He sighed. He should have expected that answer. But really, what sort of girl was she?
"Then you'll have to buy one. And this should go without saying, but you can't wear your boots underneath it."
October 22, 1927
Hotel Esplanade, Imperial Capital Berun
Payback. This is definitely payback, Tanya groaned, wincing slightly as another pin slid through her hair, scraping along her scalp.
"Just a few more, Lieutenant Colonel," her torturer told her. "Then it's on to makeup."
The situation was dire enough without her adjutant finding a way to get back at her for putting her through the 203rd's special training. Normally, Tanya wouldn't have passed up the chance to build connections, but if there was one thing worse than leaving no impression, it was leaving a bad one.
For that reason, she'd enlisted Visha's help when it came to the details of her appearance. Her friend had taken some liberties with Tanya's request to look polished and presentable. One of the other woman's good points was her willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty, but at this point, she was just having fun at Tanya's expense. She was smiling too much for someone who wasn't enjoying what she was doing.
Foolishly, she'd thought that by including Visha in the upcoming event, she was doing herself a favor. Anyone looking in her direction for a dance partner would approach the older woman instead. On top of that, she could reward one of her most valuable subordinates with no skin off her back. It had been a win-win situation up until an entire magazine of hairpins was unloaded against her.
From the way Visha was smoothing down a few errant strands of hair, they'd be moving on to the next stage of torture momentarily.
"Close your eyes," Visha instructed. As soon as Tanya obeyed, her face was hit with a puff of powder.
"Not too much," her adjutant continued, humming contentedly to herself. "At your age, you don't want to look like you're trying too hard to get attention."
Honestly, with Visha by her side, Tanya wasn't all that concerned about attracting too much attention. She would admit to having some concerns about her adjutant on that front, though. She would be twenty soon, but she could still be naïve when it came to certain subjects. Unless Tanya wanted the trouble of dealing with the other woman sniffling over a broken heart because someone was only interested in her for a night instead of for the long term, she'd have to keep her eye out. She didn't think her boss was that type of guy, but there was no such thing as being too careful.
"All done," Visha said, using her thumbnail to wipe a bit of lipstick that had strayed out of bounds. She turned Tanya around to face the mirror. "So pretty," she murmured.
"Don't say it like that," Tanya grumbled back.
She didn't want her adjutant getting any ideas about playing dress up again. And - well, it wasn't like there was something wrong if Visha was impressed by her appearance. In any world, being attractive always earned you bonus points. But "pretty little girl" wasn't exactly the impression she was hoping to leave tonight.
xXx
His recent trips to Ildoa aside, Colonel Erich von Lehrgen would grudgingly accede to having one thing in common with Tanya von Degurechaff - he'd gotten as little use out of his closet full of daily attire in the past year as she had out of her nonexistent one. Even when off-duty, slipping into uniform had become a habit.
Despite this, the hands occupied by tying white silk around his throat were so practiced at the art of making a bowtie they operated on their own with an automatic efficiency.
The Empire's eastern estate-holders weren't known for their sumptuous lifestyles, unlike their ennobled cousins in the west or their counterparts in the Commonwealth. They were a more austere bunch. Nevertheless, he'd been required to attend certain social functions for the better part of his life. In fact, he'd prefer not to think about how many years it was now that he'd been attending this particular event.
He met his partner for the event at her hotel. Despite being a military woman, she was refreshingly normal off-the-clock. Both Elya and Degurechaff left something to be desired as far as personally was concerned.
"Thank you again for bringing me along," Serebryakov said, halfway through the drive. "I'm sure Lieutenant Colonel von Degurechaff appreciates it as well. She's not so comfortable with events like this."
"I noticed," Lehrgen smiled.
"Shopping with her was…ahh…very interesting," she continued. "I never thought I'd meet a girl who hates looking pretty as much as she does. You'll barely recognize her. I made her look a proper lady," she said, clearly pleased with her effort.
He mused that corralling Degurechaff into a dress and shoes and makeup and styled hair had probably been more difficult than most battles she'd fought. It was no wonder she was proud of her work.
Within minutes of arriving, he spotted Degurechaff encamped in a corner of the room, and, as promised, escorted her adjutant over to her.
Her words were polite when she greeted him. Her smile was pleasant, if forced. But, while Serebryakov had been rather successful in making Tanya look like a regular girl, as soon as she caught his eye, there was no question in his mind that she was even more terrifying out of uniform. She had expressive eyes. And dressed to kill took on a whole different meaning when the look in them screamed that she'd murder everyone responsible for putting her there if she could get away with it.
As one of the guilty parties, a chill went down his spine.
This isn't my fault, he sighed, wanting to shake her by the shoulders until she saw sense.
Do you see any women here that aren't wearing dresses? Did you want me to let you embarrass yourself?
In spite of every attempt he made to catch up with friends and acquaintances outside the Army, inevitably, one of his coworkers would find him and distract him every twenty minutes or so. Two hours and several glasses of wine into the night, it was General von Romel's turn. By unfortunate circumstance, the man was now convinced that Lehrgen took the same approach to managing Degurechaff as he did, and he'd come over to heap praise on his favorite subordinate officer.
"Wait," Romel said, interrupting what Lehrgen had been saying and pointing over his shoulder with a look of amusement. "Get a look at this."
Lehrgen turned to see. Major Weiss, evidently well-inebriated, was dragging Tanya away from her conversation partner and out towards where everyone was dancing.
Please don't make a scene, he willed her mentally.
He hadn't expected her to be good at it, necessarily, but she was so awful at dancing that it defied the imagination. It was incredible that someone who could be so graceful in the air couldn't make a single step correctly.
The wine he'd drank left him helpless against the fit of laughter that bubbled up at watching her, and Romel soon joined the outburst. They laughed all the harder when Weiss gave up and lifted her to stand on his feet.
When the song was drawing to a close, Romel motioned that the two of them should go over.
I'm not volunteering to injure myself, Lehrgen thought, excusing himself with a shake of his head. He'd let Romel try his hand at teaching her so he might fit in at least one dance with the woman he'd brought with him.
Unlike her superior, his dance partner was extremely elegant and didn't make a single misstep.
"Where did you learn, if I might ask?" he inquired after a few passes.
"It was required in my family," she answered, with a nostalgic smile. "And my mother was insistent I learn ballet as well."
"Ah, yes, your friend Lieutenant Weber did mention something about that," he replied. "I'm impressed you remember so well after all the years in between."
"I…umm…practice by myself, when I can," she said, blushing.
"You should," he replied, "you won't be in uniform the rest of your life. Or at least I hope not."
He realized almost immediately that that might have come out wrong. He hadn't meant it that way. He'd meant that he hoped the war was over soon. He opened his mouth to clarify, but Serebryakov either didn't take it wrong or was graciously avoiding it, because she'd already changed the subject.
"I do wonder what the lieutenant colonel will do after the war…" she said, glancing over her shoulder towards where Romel was engaged in what could only be described as a different sort of maneuver warfare than usual with Degurechaff. He didn't look to be winning.
Lehrgen wondered about Degurechaff's future occasionally himself. As much as seeing her around the office for the next thirty years made him want to consider alternative careers, keeping her in the military would probably be for the best. The hierarchy she was so enamored with would curb her worst impulses so long as she wasn't promoted too far.
The military was rather progressive, but there weren't any women with the title of general attached to their name, and even she might find the ingrained and unspoken rule hard to fight against. God forbid the day ever came that she decided she'd rather start wars than fight in them, and got herself into politics.
"She's very capable. I'm sure she'll find something," he placated. Viktoriya sighed and then nodded.
"I…I just hope she can be happy one day."
"You think she isn't?" She shook her head in response.
"I don't think so. I'm not so sure. I used to…the first time I met her I thought she was like a vampire, but…"
Interesting. And almost pitiful, in a way. Degurechaff didn't like many people so far as he could tell. And here were the two of them, two of the very few people that she did express some favor for, both imagining her some sort of monster.
"She makes a strong first impression," he said, to which Serebryakov gave a snort of laughter, and then a sad smile.
"I used to think she liked it. She's so good at what she does. But sometimes I…I think she's just pretending. I catch her, sometimes, when she thinks no one sees, and she looks so…so…so forlorn. She hides it as soon as she notices I'm there, but…I don't know. I'm not sure what to make of it."
"She's lucky to have an adjutant that cares so much," he said truthfully.
"It's the least I can do. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for her. And she can be nice once you get to know her. A little prickly, but I think she does care about us in her own way."
He didn't reply. What was there to say except that he thought Degurechaff's very occasional instances of kindness an act to ingratiate her with others? If it comforted Serebryakov to believe it genuine, robbing her of that illusion would be unnecessarily cruel.
The subject of their conversation marched over shortly, supported on Romel's arm, to pull her adjutant away, leaning on her friend for balance as they went to find food.
"You should give it a try," Romel said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're better than I am, you might get through to her."
"Politely, sir, I'm going to have to decline."
"It's a bit fun trying to dodge her heel coming down on your toes."
"Ending up in the hospital after she trips me isn't what I'd call fun, sir," Lehrgen chuckled.
"She's not so much worse than I was when I first started."
"Frankly, sir, I think I'd rather have taken my chances with you."
FIN
A/N: A wild YS restaurant appears
