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Part 3. Crying Out War in the Rascal Field
After returning to Philander, my days were a continuous stream of work, reminiscent of the early days of my reign.
Kaleb's face grew increasingly grim moment by moment, Cecil was running around day and night, and the officials, as well as the nobles, seemed drained from the workload, but only those three maintained cheerful.
‘Ugh… those rascals…’
The three of them had even set up a table in one corner of my office for their strategy meetings.
As I was giving them a sour look, the door opened, and Cecil entered, limping slightly.
“Your… Majesty…”
Her voice also sounded off.
The moment I could hardly figure out whether the paper in her hand was a resignation letter or a report, I quickly handed her a white envelope.
“I wrote this thinking of you all night.”
Hearing me, Haven, who had been burying his head in maps, stretched his neck to look our way.
