The mess hall was incredibly noisy, a chaotic mix of laughter, shouting, and the clatter of utensils.

The food synthesizer used by the soldiers would occasionally malfunction, producing something strange. As the canines around me good-naturedly teased, I could only shrug at the pink mush on my tray.

“Hey, over here!” I looked up at the voice—a big yellow dog who had helped me adjust my magnetic boots earlier.

“Well, well, isn’t this the Admiral’s little pup? What brings you down to dine with us common folk today?” A coyote at the table sneered, and the others laughed along with him.

“Don’t bully the rookie,” the big yellow dog rolled his eyes and pointed his fork at the coyote, who responded by sticking out his tongue.

“The Admiral’s having dinner with the Captain today, doesn’t want to be disturbed,” I explained, while taking a bite of the pink mush. Wow, surprisingly tasty.

“Captain Arthur?” The fox next to me asked. When I nodded in response, he let out a whistle. Some people laughed, while others looked awkward.

Come to think of it, it was strange. The Admiral had never sent me away during meals with other officers before. Although, his exact words had been, "Enduring your nonsense is bad enough; subjecting Arthur to it would be downright cruel," and "I don’t want to lose my temper in front of Arthur, it would make me seem uncultured."

“Did you happen to ‘accidentally’ overhear anything interesting?” The coyote asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity as he took a bite of his burrito.

“Are you asking for a whipping, José?” The big yellow dog sighed, prodding at his food with his fork.

“Oh, everyone knows that our noble and merciful Admiral—the Empire’s Heart, Archduke of Germany, the Storm Wolf—would never do something so barbaric!” José recited the Admiral’s titles with mock solemnity, earning chuckles from those around.

“That doesn’t mean you can go around tarnishing the Admiral’s reputation…” The yellow dog murmured, lowering his head as he continued eating.

Being the focus of so many curious eyes made me uncomfortable.

“Other than the Admiral being very particular about how coffee should be brewed,” and how sugar should be added, “he’s just a somewhat dull, overbearing, and quick-tempered noble,” just like any other noble. My description seemed to disappoint everyone, and I tilted my head and perked up one ear, signaling my confusion and asking for an explanation.

“Our noble and capable Admiral has a rather peculiar hobby!” The coyote leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Or should I say, a rather unusual taste?”

“What?” I asked, bewildered. The fox tried to maintain a straight face, stifling a laugh, while the yellow dog kept his head down, eating.

“The Admiral likes… how should I put it?” The coyote scratched his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. The yellow dog sighed in resignation, while the fox offered an encouraging smile for the performance. “He’s into being a cuckold.”

“Uh… what does that mean?” Judging by the reactions of those around—some laughing so hard they were slapping the table, others awkwardly looking away—it seemed to be an open secret.

“The Captain’s having an affair with the German Archduchess!” José declared with a chuckle, but my confusion only deepened.

“The head of German House is made up of the Archduke and Archduchess—the Admiral and his spouse, Archduchess Maya. Captain Arthur is a baron of German House, a lower-ranked noble.” The big yellow dog explained. “But the Captain is highly capable and has an impressive record, which is why he rose to his current position. He’s been the Admiral’s trusted friend and partner for many years.”

“I’d say maybe a little too ‘good’ a friend!” The coyote quipped, and the fox gave up holding back his laughter, setting his utensils aside. “During a flagship landing ceremony, Arthur and Maya were caught in the act by an officer.”

“Allegedly…” The yellow dog muttered.

“Oh, our dear Sergeant Ian doesn’t like it when people slander his hero.” José draped an arm around Ian’s shoulders, whispering teasingly into his ear.

“The next time the Admiral deploys the drone swarm to fend off enemy artillery, maybe you should show a bit of gratitude.” Ian finished his meal and tossed his fork onto his tray. “He risked spending the rest of his life drooling in bed just to save your sorry ass.”

“I have nothing but the utmost respect for our great and fierce Storm Wolf!” José protested with exaggerated gestures. “Rationalism prevails—anyone who’s seen him tear a battleship apart with a drone swarm wouldn’t dare think otherwise.” He touched his heart and forehead, making a gesture of Rationalism’s witness. “But that doesn’t contradict the fact that the Admiral has a thing for being cuckolded!”

Ian could only fall silent in the face of José’s attempt to defend himself with logic.

“Anyway, Arthur and Maya’s affair has been spotted more than once, and their level of intimacy definitely goes beyond what noble etiquette allows.” I’d heard that, for nobles, a French kiss was standard social etiquette upon first meeting, so exceeding that limit wasn’t easy. “Everyone felt sorry for our valiant Storm Wolf, lamenting that this might be the downside of marrying into one of the Nine Great Families—a purebred gray wolf, wasted.” José clicked his tongue a few times, shaking his head. “Until one day, a certain destroyer captain…”

“Hoffmann,” the fox interjected with a grin.

“…got ‘drunk’ again,” José nodded in acknowledgment, appreciating the addition. “And spilled a bunch of high-society gossip, that’s when we realized—the Admiral has known about Arthur and Maya’s affair all along, but he doesn’t care and even maintains a close friendship with his flagship captain.” He shivered. “So, I can only say, this friendship is either exceptionally strong, or there’s a simpler explanation.”

“To unusual kinks!” The fox raised his cup in a toast. “Kinks truly are the key to world peace, Rationalism be my witness.” Some people nearby joined in his laughter, but more were like Ian, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

“So, I’m quite certain the current heir of German House, that lame German shepherd, is definitely Arthur’s kid!” José laughed a few more times before picking up his tray and leaving. No one else laughed this time; it seemed he had crossed a line.

“Don’t listen to that flamboyant coyote’s nonsense, José is always like that.” Ian also started clearing his tray, and the fox half-heartedly agreed with his assessment, although Ian clearly didn’t want to delve into which part he disagreed with.

“The Admiral and the Captain have fought side by side for over ten years. That kind of camaraderie isn’t something outsiders can understand. And don’t forget the Marquis of Berlin…” Ian touched his heart and forehead. “Anyone who’s seen those blue eyes knows—they’re a spitting image of the Admiral’s. He’s definitely not a bastard.”

“Let’s just say the Admiral hasn’t had the best of luck,” the fox continued eating his meal. “If he doesn’t produce a flawless heir soon, the Grand Duchy of German is in serious jeopardy.” He bit down on his fork, his eyes taking on a distant look. “Especially since many great House are deeply dissatisfied with the Admiral’s ideology, like his stance on sheltering runaway serfs from other territories, which cuts into their profits.” The fox seemed to be unconsciously scratching his neck, and it was then that I noticed the uneven ring of pale fur around his throat.

Though I was born a commoner from a free city, I still had the chance to encounter serfs on occasion—some lords would rent out their “property” to the city government. Even by imperial standards, the treatment of serfs in the Grand Duchy of Golden was notoriously poor, and I had occasionally overheard them whispering about their yearning for the Grand Duchy of German, though I hadn’t given it much thought before.

However, Ian’s earlier comments hadn’t denied that the Admiral’s wife was indeed having… an intimate relationship with his flagship captain. But I figured I wasn’t in a position to judge others, nor was there necessarily anything wrong with that intimacy. As the fox said, I welcomed any solutions that could bring peace to the world. If it took all sorts of peculiar kinks to make everyone live in harmony, then so be it.

“So… what’s the deal with the drone swarm?” I had heard about it—it was related to the “Storm Wolf” title—but I hadn’t realized the Admiral personally operated the drones. I thought he just commanded them. Although I didn’t really know what “operating” the drones entailed, I just knew it was extremely dangerous.

“I hope you never have to witness the Admiral in battle,” Ian said as he and the fox got up, signaling that their break was over. “But statistically, that’s impossible. So, I’ll just say, you’ll understand when you see it.”

After Ian left, the fox gave me some tips on using the food synthesizer, then introduced himself. “Just call me Abel.” He gave me another smile before following Ian out of the mess hall.

I continued eating my somewhat strange-looking but surprisingly delicious dinner, mulling over all the new information I had gathered.

It always felt so distant, like something I could never influence, so I never really understood the situation within the Empire. It was like some kind of castle in the clouds, unreal. But Abel’s neck reminded me that the undercurrents of imperial politics were very real, affecting everyone living within the Empire—even those outside of it.

For the first time in my life, I felt as though I had stepped into murky waters with depths I could not fathom, where countless undercurrents surged, ready to sweep away anyone who couldn't find solid footing, pulling them into an immense vortex. When those insignificant and tiny beings were engulfed, they wouldn’t even have time to utter a whimper before being lost forever.