Grimmeberger
It was fairly obvious Lintz disapproved of his 'speaking ill of the dead.' "I'm sorry. I know Emperor Wyatt was as good an emperor as Waldenburg has had in recent memory, and that by no means erases everything else he did for the country, though I'm afraid I never had the pleasure of meeting the man." After a moment, he added "So it will, I expect. But if we can, let's do our best to avoid that. No need to make things messier if it can be avoided."
Grimmeberger looked thoughtful. "Horenburg? I'll tell Field Marshal Hohenzorn about that, see what he can do. As I said, I believe Grahulm is probably going to get caught up in helping Imperial forces around Wissenholm. I ask no such transfer of you, unless you, for some reason, have an urge to fight alongside Allamunnae; I simply mean to see my people used as befits a proper ally, and not to be regarded as cannon-fodder. I'm afraid that, given their previous orders, our troops in Haaldstadten-Aachensboro may not be ready to move for another week, or so, in any case." As Lintz stood, Grimmeberger rose with him, and, after hearing what Lintz said, nodded. "I hope it does. And with any luck yes, I shall be seeing you again. Until then, best of luck. I suspect we'll all be needing it."
Not long after, sufficiently after Andrew and Amanda had wandered off to their tasks, Zoe practically skipped over to where Steven was sitting, in her cheerfully energetic way.
"Mr. Grimmeberger," she said sweetly "You've settled down some, it looks like." Steven couldn't help but smile back at the Princess as she made an observation most would consider insolent. Of course, it was a valuable skill to stay cool-headed, and even in his Army days, Grimmeberger had never been a stickler for formality.
"Yes, Zoe, I am. Now that I don't have that Yallakian blustering and declaring us idiots, it's quite easy." After a moment, he added "the cider helps, too. I'd offer to find you some, but I suspect your mother would be less than thrilled about me offering you alcohol," he said, indicating the bottle he had pulled out earlier. "Did you wander on up here to pass the time, or is your mother wanting to talk to me about something?" he said.
"Mom was wondering if she could start off with the floor, whenever the recess ends," she said. A moment's pause, and she grinned slyly. "And you're sure I can't try some?" she asked, her voice borderline sing-song. "I am past seventeen...I think," she added, taking on a look of concentration, "So it's not like it would be illegal for me to have some." Her sly smile changed to an innocent one. "Please?" She even threw in some melodramatic eyelash batting.
Steven shot her a look that said he had his doubts. He stood up from his chair and, sighing, stalked over to a chiller and dug out a bottle. "Drink it slowly. I'm sure your mother will find out how you got it anyway, but I won't have her blaming me for your drunkenness, young lady." Almost as an afterthought, he said "And mind how you pour it. It's not aerated, so you have to pour it from a little ways up to get it to be fizzy at all." He added "And remember to share. And I'll pass along your mother's request to Andrew and Amanda, and she should assume the answer is 'yes' unless I make a point of mentioning otherwise."
"Thanks, Mr. Grimmeberger. I'll let her know." Of course, she promptly sat at a nearby table and tried pouring the cider, holding the bottle low. Steven sighed.
"Higher than that, you heathen!"