To the War Council

Walking through the palace commons, you make your way to the war council. On the way, you pass by several sights. Widows of officials and couriers wailing in mourning and guards marching through the halls. Several snap to attention as you pass by. The air of uncertainty fills the palace.

As you round the corner, you find yourself locking gazes with a young maiden. Dressed in a royal tunic typically reserved for navy officers, her smoky eyes bore a hole into you. Without a doubt, she knew precisely who you are. You break your gaze as you let your eyes drag downwards, admiring her hourglass figure and prominent rack complemented by the snug fit of her uniform. Noticing your attention to her womanly features, she scoffs at you in disgust before picking up her pace to pass you.

_Fine by me, _you think to yourself as you turn to observe the movement of her pert ass as she walks posthaste.

You finally arrive outside of the war room and walk up to stand by your best friend and marshal. The two of you enter at the same time and join the ranks of commanders. Before long, the day is consumed by logistics and tactical plannings. It will not be long before the ultimate test of leadership meets you on the battlefield.