Of course not.
And really, it would all depend on who you asked.
But for most of the galaxy, it was a move that might actually be appreciated.
Just as Marshal Julian was about to appreciate the unexpected boon that was about to land on his desk.
Curtis stord into the Marshal’s office without knocking.
Normally, this would be grounds for disciplinary action.
But Eden, who had been prepared to lecture him on basic decorum, paused when she saw the look on his dorky face.
That was not a man arriving with routine paperwork.
The Marshal glanced up from the logistical nightmare he was reviewing. The profiles of all those masters who just requested clearance were certainly alarming.
Curtis looked like he had seen the end of the world.
"Curtis. Did soone die?" Julian asked calmly.
"Soon, Marshal," Curtis replied. "If we don’t do anything, soone just might."
That was more than enough to get the Marshal’s full attention.
Julian gestured for him to co forward. Eden quietly moved aside.
Curtis walked in, already pulling sothing up on his terminal before pressing play.
They watched the screen.
Silence.
Then the Marshal squinted. "What is this supposed to be? So kind of threat?"
"I wish it were that simple," Curtis muttered. "That’s the House Kyros flagship. They arrived to support their heir. Apparently, he is taking a special licensure exam for chanics."
"That explains the flood of master chanics on Nova," Julian said, rubbing his brow.
Eden leaned forward. "Huh? But I thought Luca Kyros was a pilot. Then what kind of licensure exam would require all these master’s? And even then, why would so many people show up? Even the hermits were here. It looked like a pilgrimage."
"Exactly," Julian replied. "Go and ask the Royal Military Academy for a formal explanation. These things take months to plan, so why weren’t we inford?"
Curtis cleared his throat. "Actually, I think I know why."
He reached into his bag and carefully brought out a small, ornate box.
"This ca in from the clearance bay. Sent directly by Duchess Alia Kyros."
Julian raised an eyebrow. Eden leaned in.
"The Duchess is requesting a reservation for airspace tomorrow. The guard said she claid House Kyros intends to present an offer to the military that is of significant value."
Julian nodded. "And the item?"
Curtis held the box out as if it were ticking. "Unknown. She said she would only provide the unlock code after direct confirmation that you, Marshal, are the one holding it."
The room went quiet.
Julian looked at Eden. Eden looked at Curtis. Curtis looked like he regretted every choice that brought him here.
Finally, the Marshal reached over and turned off the surveillance feed.
"If this is how she wants to play it," he said, "then we better get her on the line."
The connection stabilized. Greetings were exchanged — brief, polite, efficient.
Duchess Alia, as always, did not waste ti.
"I’ll be direct," she said. "This is a hasty request due to the last-minute nature of our son’s exam. If the military is interested in acquiring more of what’s inside the package, we would greatly appreciate your approval for an airspace reservation."
Her tone was perfectly pleasant. Her smile? Practiced serenity.
Marshal Julian raised an eyebrow but gave her a small nod. "You may give the code."
She did.
Curtis keyed it in, and the mont the seal broke, a faint shimr of spiritual energy escaped the box like a whisper. Julian, Eden, and Curtis all instinctively leaned in.
Inside was... a tin.
Small. Round. Innocent.
Julian carefully opened it.
And imdiately furrowed his brow.
"What... is this?" he muttered.
Eden blinked. "It looks like a... dried plant?"
Curtis leaned closer. "No, wait. It’s crunchy. And green. Is it moss? It’s glowing a little."
Julian picked one up with the caution of soone handling an unstable explosive.
The thing was crisp. Leaf-like. Slightly curled at the edges. And absolutely reeked of pure, concentrated spiritual energy.
"I don’t know what it is," Eden said slowly, "but I can feel it from here."
"Sa," Curtis muttered, already reaching for the lid to reseal it.
Julian didn’t even argue. He snapped the tin shut and turned back to the screen.
"Duchess Alia," he said carefully. "Are you saying... you’re offering the military a favorable deal... for airspace?"
The Duchess, calm as moonlight, replied, "It is not just airspace. That is our support for our son. So yes. We are willing to offer a favorable deal for that gesture."
Julian’s throat felt dry.
Whatever that tin contained, it was practically what they needed.
Duchess Alia continued, "Once the exam concludes, and should you find yourselves interested, we could arrange a proper eting. Marshal Julian."
He looked like he wanted to say sothing clever. Sothing commanding. Anything, really. But all that ca out was a quiet sound of agreent.
He glanced at Curtis, then gave him a nod.
"Authorize the reservation," he said, then cleared his throat and added, "...but please, keep the support displays within reason. We don’t want to frighten the public."
Duchess Alia chuckled. "We are of the sa mind. Thank you, Marshal. I’ll see you soon."
The call ended.
Julian slowly leaned back in his seat. He stared at the sealed tin as if it held the fate of the galaxy.
And in so strange way... maybe it did.
He exhaled.
"Eden."
"Yes, Marshal?"
"Tell the Academy to reserve a few seats for us. I want to witness this exam. Personally."
Which, frankly, was just within expectations for a certain duchy.
anwhile, aboard the battleship of House Kyros...
"If anybody missed the opportunity to sign the support banner, they better do it now before the file is sent over to the carrier blimp."
It was just a reminder.
And yet, Duchess Alia had a strong suspicion that no one had missed the opportunity. The mont she brought it up yesterday, the entire duchy leapt into action as though their lives depended on it.
After all, no one wanted to be left out of showing their actual support for the Young Lord.
Duchess Alia still recalled how hard she had cringed earlier. But she also reminded herself very firmly that she had agreed to this for a reason.
When Master Quinn had first raised the idea of Luca undergoing the licensing exam, he had looked like a man trying to balance between recognition and safety.
He had concerns. Valid ones.
This was not just any test.
Obtaining a chanic’s license this early, and without going through the usual path, ant placing Luca under the scrutiny of the cha masters. Because the only way to have gotten it this early was to call forth their attention deliberately.
And cha masters were not exactly known for their sense of restraint.
If anything, they had a reputation for being brilliant, wildly unpredictable, and completely incapable of rembering that secrecy and safety were important concepts.
Master Quinn had said it clearly. They were like hounds that had caught the scent of sothing valuable. Once they fixated on Luca, it would be impossible to redirect them.
And he was right.
After all, they do say that geniuses tend to be a little unhinged.
Calling their attention would be easy. Removing it once they had locked on was another matter entirely.
Especially because Luca would soon beco the youngest licensed chanic in recent history, even worse, he would likely outpace half the professionals in the Empire within the year. Months, even.
So yes, they had originally planned to reveal him gradually. To introduce him as a product of House Kyros’ investnts and strategy.
That plan, however, unraveled in two days.
Because Luca just had to attract that much attention that fast.
And then Ollie, who had been present during the exam frenzy, shared an unexpected detail. People were speculating. Rumors were already circulating. Whispers said that Luca had been secretly nurtured by the duchy all along.
The earlier silence had worked in their favor. It allowed others to assu that Luca had received private training for years, fully supported by House Kyros.
So even believed that the story about his unruly past had been a deliberate cover to hide his long-standing developnt.
If people already believed that, then perhaps it was ti to lean into it.
After all, the Expo was drawing near. If they wanted to showcase their strength, there was no better ti.
Naturally, Duchess Alia gave herself the task of coming up with sothing that would generate attention in such a short period.
Only for Xavier to casually make a suggestion.
"?"
"Duchess Alia. What about the fireworks we saw during our first visit to Planet Kyros?"
"...Huh?"
Fireworks?
Now, see, she had apparently been spared the traumatic display and only found out about how they welcod Luca back into their ho much later.
She had no words.
And Duchess Alia nearly challenged her husband to a duel when she discovered that the outrageous fireworks display had actually outdone even the glowing-eyed statues he erected back at the Manor.
Had Luca been anyone else, soone not kind and good-hearted, he would have demanded emancipation. And frankly, she would not have blad him because had she been in his place, she would’ve likely done the sa.
But Luca, as always, endured it quietly.
Still, when they showed her one of the fireworks for demonstration, she had to admit that it was undeniably effective.
If they wanted attention, that display would certainly provide it. If they wanted people to believe Luca had been raised with overwhelming and unhinged support, it would deliver that impression effortlessly. In fact, they’d all start thinking that the mbers of House Kyros were crazed lunatics.
Well, they were, but not that bad.
That maybe with that kind of fanfare, they’ll think that it’s because he’s been raised with such support, it would be difficult for him not to grow up into soone incredible.
Hopefully, they wouldn’t imdiately realize that all this ti it’s really been Luca carrying the weight of the entire house on his back.
It was one thing to be accused of riding on nepotism, but quite another to single-handedly revive a crumbling house.
It was settled, but because Duchess Alia didn’t want Luca to just have that insanity, she said they’ll have to do sothing else.
And so she ordered all those interested to produce a banner of the House where they could all sign short ssages of encouragent and support.
"There would be no faces," she nearly roared at her husband, whom she was sure was about to ask.
Sure enough, but instead just asked how much space they could use up.
"Just enough so that all of those who love him could fit."
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