Lucia was feeling uneasy. She didn't know whether Charles would welco her.
He might just refuse outright; after all, it was warti, and he was swamped with important matters, particularly those concerning Belgium's life or death.
Or, perhaps, he might agree to et her but act coldly, seeing her only as the "Lady in White" concerned with intelligence, rather than his girlfriend.
Lucia glanced around nervously. The others' eyes were filled with joy or hopeful anticipation, and she couldn't help but regret bringing them along. She should have insisted on coming alone or, at the very least, co more forcefully. That way, she wouldn't have to face the embarrassnt or disappointnt of her family witnessing everything unfold.
…
When Charles descended the stairs from the command center, he was also preoccupied with similar thoughts.
How should he face Lucia?
Should he simply ask if she had any intelligence to share and then send her away?
That would be too blunt—too impersonal. It wouldn't be very "couple-like" at all.
What should a couple be like?
Charles slowed his pace. Of course, being reunited with his girlfriend after so long would be a joyous occasion. It should be...
He quickened his steps, and soon, he was running.
When he reached the door, he saw Lucia from a distance and, in an instant, called out her na, rushing forward to grab her, spinning her around slightly before planting a kiss on her lips.
This was how it was supposed to be in the movies.
But to Charles's surprise, Lucia seed sowhat resistant.
She gently pushed him away and whispered in his ear, "There are people here."
Charles froze, realizing that there were a few people standing nearby, staring at him in surprise. They must have co with Lucia.
Lucia quickly adjusted her dress and quietly introduced them to Charles, "This is my father, my mother, and my brother!"
Charles was caught off guard. eting the family? That wasn't part of the mission I assigned you!
Mr. Girard nervously rubbed his hands and stepped forward to shake Charles's hand. "It's an honor to et you, General. I'm Girard."
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Girard," Charles replied.
Mrs. Girard bead and stepped forward, her gaze towards Charles sparkling as though she had found a treasure. "Hello, General. I'm Lucia's mother!"
"Hello, Mrs. Girard."
The lively young Stein, however, was frozen in place. Only after Lucia gave him a nudge did he snap out of his daze and hurry forward, grabbing Charles's hands with both of his. "General, I… I…"
His hands trembled and his teeth chattered as he stuttered, unable to speak a coherent sentence.
"He's Stein," Lucia rolled her eyes. "He was just saying he wanted to join the military and fight the Germans. Now he's acting like a scared rabbit!"
Charles smiled at Stein. "That's because I'm not a German. I believe he'll be a warrior when facing the enemy."
"Yes, General," Stein nodded earnestly. "I promise!"
Lucia gave Charles a glare and muttered, "He's only seventeen."
"Oh." Charles quickly understood. He turned to Stein. "Then you should start getting yourself in shape and prepare for the call from your country!"
Stein looked slightly disappointed but stood tall and replied, "Yes, General!"
Mr. and Mrs. Girard were astonished. When did Stein beco so easy to talk to?
Lucia, however, knew exactly why.
It wasn't that Stein was being "easy to talk to"—he had simply taken Charles's words as an order.
As they entered the airport, Stein was once again stunned by the rows of fighter planes parked on the tarmac. He had never seen a Cal fighter plane so closely before. It was the most advanced aircraft of the Allies, and Belgium didn't have any. All he could do was admire them.
…
Charles led everyone to a reception room on the first floor.
According to regulations, civilians weren't allowed into the command center. Many things could leak secrets with just a glance, such as the battle maps.
The reception room had two sofas and a small coffee table. The orderly Adrian brought out so cakes and fruits and poured several cups of hot coffee.
Mrs. Girard kept her eyes fixed on Charles, her smile never wavering, making him feel sowhat uncomfortable.
"Sorry, General," Mr. Girard said. "We didn't an to trouble you, but Lucia happened to co to Ghent to visit us, so…"
Charles gave Lucia a surprised look. "You're from Ghent?"
Lucia took a sip of her coffee. "Back when Belgium was still under German control, where I'm from doesn't really matter."
She then shot Charles a sideways glance, half-jokingly saying, "No one will know you reached Antwerp in just a day, General. Otherwise, I'd have asked you to take better care of my family."
The group burst into laughter.
Mr. Girard quietly nodded. It seed Lucia and Charles were getting along quite well.
Charles inwardly marveled at Lucia's acting skills and her social finesse. She always managed to turn an awkward atmosphere into sothing lighthearted.
"There's sothing I need your help with," Lucia said, making her request.
"What is it?" Charles asked.
His first thought was of cars, houses, bank accounts, or an exorbitant dowry—things that one might discuss when eting the parents. But… foreigners didn't seem to need any of that.
Lucia nodded toward Stein, who was sitting across from her. "He has a revolver."
"Lucia!" Stein shot up in protest, protesting her betrayal.
But Charles rely glanced at him, and Stein imdiately shrank back, sitting back down.
Charles stood up and waved Stein over. "We're of similar age, Stein, and we both have an interest in the military. We should have sothing in common."
"Yes, General." Stein stood upright and followed Charles.
Charles led him to the window and pointed out the fighter planes taking off outside. "Do you know what kind of person we need the most?"
Stein shook his head in confusion. "I don't know, General."
Charles nodded toward the aircraft soaring into the sky with their engines roaring.
"Pilots, Stein."
"Right now, we have fewer than seven hundred pilots capable of executing combat missions. And this is in a ti when the Germans' aircraft haven't even developed enough to cause major damage."
"Can you imagine? We have over a million troops, yet fewer than seven hundred pilots."
"Once the Germans develop new aircraft that can counter ours, we'll be desperately short of pilots."
"Would you rather be one in a million, or one in seven hundred?"
Stein's eyes brightened, his chest heaving with excitent. "You an, I could beco a pilot?"
"Why not?" Charles answered. "As long as you're from an Allied nation and can fly a plane, we need you."
Stein straightened up, his resolve firm. "I understand, General. I want to beco one in seven hundred!"
"Good." Charles nodded and looked at Stein. "If you want to be one of the seven hundred, the thing you need to study now is not the revolver, but the principles of flying and all related knowledge. Do you understand?"
"Understood." Stein stood even straighter. "I'll turn in the revolver as soon as I get back."
Mrs. Girard looked at Charles and Stein from the window, a proud smile on her face as she lightly patted Lucia's hand. "He's excellent. Not just in war!"
"Mm." Lucia nodded, lowering her head to hide the sadness in her eyes as she sipped her coffee.
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