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Being a commander of the desert district wasn't easy. It was stressful.
Especially when he received a message from the president. Oh, it was really stressful.
The Messenger gave handed him an envelope: with black wax stamp, signed with red ink.
President Solev
To commander Fortsy
He opened it, the piece of paper inside was small, with only a few lines of text.
Commander Fortsy,
Drop whatever heroic desert nonsense you're doing and present yourself in capital.
Immediately
It wasn't even the first time he was summoned to the capital because someone was bored. This time, at least, the letter didn't just say “fetch”. Progress, he supposed.
He stood in front of the massive doors, the polished wood gleaming faintly in the dim corridor light. His hands were clasped behind his back, posture straight, but a tension ran through his shoulders he couldn’t shake. The guards stationed outside said nothing, merely watching him with quiet, professional detachment.
Finally, one of the guards stepped forward. The doors swung open with a low, echoing creak. Fortsy took a step forward and entered. His senses were on alert, even before he saw Solev’s familiar figure waiting somewhere deeper inside.
Solev didn’t look up immediately–he was scribbling something with a pen, posture relaxed. Only when the doors clicked shut did he lifted his head, lips parting into what looked like a smile.
“Commander” Solev said, his tone surprisingly warm “There you are. You always look so terribly tired when you come here. I hope the desert hasn’t been too cruel to you”
Fortsy bowed his head slightly, stiff as ever “The district is stable, President”
“Mmm” Solev set the pen down with a delicate clink, folding his hands atop the desk “Stable. I like that word. Reliable, steady, loyal… all those fine qualities everyone likes to whisper about you” His gaze softened “I would really want to believe that you could never disappoint me” He made a little, silent pause “You should sit, it will take some time” Fortsy hesitated for only a heartbeat before sliding into the chair across from Solev’s desk.
Solev leaned back in his chair, fingertips brushing together, eyes following Fortsy “You look… well” he said, almost thoughtfully “Better than I expected, I suppose. That uniform of yours suits you. Though perhaps it could use a little less stiffness–don’t you want to be more comfortable?”
Fortsy’s jaw tightened at the soft amusement in Solev’s voice “It’s fine, it doesn’t really disturb me”
“I’m glad, then” Solev’s smile lingered, almost lazy, as if he had all the time in the world “I think we should go straight to the point…Tell me, Fortsy” he began, voice light “have you noticed… odd movements in your district lately? Rumors, perhaps? Or is it just my imagination running wild?”
Fortsy shook his head “Nothing of concern, President. The district is secure”
“Secure?” Solev repeated, his tone curious. He tapped his fingers on the desk “Interesting. Because some people say otherwise. Some people talk about desert people meeting in the shadows, of plans that might… inconvenience Imperia”
Fortsy kept his posture straight, hands folded in his lap “The district runs well. That is my duty.”
Solev leaned forward suddenly, elbows resting on the desk, gaze piercing “Duty, yes. Loyalty, yes. But what about ambition? Or secrets? Surely you have heard whispers… people who claim that not everything is as it seems?”
“I’ve heard nothing, everything is as it should be” he said, his voice tense.
Solev’s smile sharpened “Oh, I hope that’s true. But you see, rumors have a way of spreading. And those who hear them often repeat them" His tone turned casual again, almost teasing. “Have you… done anything unusual lately? Met anyone you shouldn’t? Discussed matters outside the chain of command?”
“No. I haven’t”
“Really? Not even a casual conversation with someone curious, someone who might have ideas beyond their station? No whispers, no secret meetings, no minor indiscretions?”
Fortsy’s jaw tightened “I do not bend rules. I do not plot. Everything is under control.”
Solev’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly he was on his feet making his way to Fortsy’s chair. His hand shot out, catching him by the chin, forcing to meet his gaze.
“So you claim loyalty. And yet…I wonder how far you’d go to protect your precious secrets. Or if you’d simply–bend for me” He pressed his fingers into his chin. Fortsy’s hand shot up, gripping Solev’s wrist tightly, trying to loosen the pressure
“I said–” he began, his voice strained but steady “I said I do not–”
The words barely left his lips before Solev’s free hand lashed out, a swift, stinging slap across Fortsy’s cheek. The impact echoed in the office.
Fortsy’s hand moved to his check in the place where he was slapped. But Solev didn’t step back, didn’t give him a moment to recover. He moved Fortsy's hand away and placed a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek.
Fortsy froze, breath catching at the sudden intimacy, the sharp sting of the slap still burning across his skin. His chest tightened. He wanted to step back, to put distance between himself and the president, but Solev’s presence was suffocatingly close and impossible to ignore.
Solev tilted his head, his fingers slightly brushing Fortsy’s jaw “Obedience is a beautiful thing. It’s not just following orders–it’s surrender. It’s knowing when to stop resisting, when to let go of all that stiffness and just do as you’re told” He leaned a little closer, his breath ghosting over Fortsy’s ear “You do want to be obedient, don’t you, Fortsy? To make this easier for yourself?”
Fortsy was silent, but his unsteady breath and trembling hands betrayed him more than words ever could.
“That’s what I thought. Even the strongest soldier bends eventually” he said, taking a step back “You can go now” Solev watched him as he rose from his chair.
“Be careful, Commander” he added, voice soft “You sometimes forget that Imperia is always watching. I’m always watching.”