A Battle Unseen

[vesica]

Newport Castle, Bekenial, Adelia, Kingdom of Hutori

Newport Castle stood on the cliffs overlooking the Harding River and the William Canal, its stone walls a stark contrast to the modern skyline of downtown Bekenial. From the castle’s highest towers, one could see Parliament Hill just up the street—a silent reminder that the old and the new still coexisted in Hutori.

Prime Minister Michael Kensington strode through the castle’s grand corridor, his polished shoes echoing against the marble floor. The weekly audience with the King was a tradition as old as the monarchy itself, meant to keep the sovereign informed of government affairs. In theory, it was ceremonial. In practice, with a well informed Monarch, it was anything but.

The heavy oak doors to the audience chamber swung open, revealing King Charles III seated near the fireplace. The chamber was a blend of history and quiet authority, with tapestries depicting Hutorian battlefields hanging above mahogany bookcases lined with decades of state records. The King was dressed simply, in a navy suit and open-collared white shirt, the image of a modern ruler who understood the weight of his station, a leather folder open in his hand.

"Prime Minister," the King greeted, his voice as steady as ever.
"Your Majesty," Kensington replied, giving a respectful nod as he took a seat across from him.

The conversation began with the usual affairs of state—economic updates, diplomatic engagements, the Prime Minister’s upcoming international tour. The King listened, nodding occasionally, his expression unreadable. Then, just as Kensington finished outlining his itinerary for Dorvik, Dolgava, and Kalistan, the King closed his folder with deliberate slowness.

"Michael," he said, his voice shifting to something quieter, heavier. "Let’s discuss something that wasn’t in your briefing."

Kensington frowned. "Of course, Your Majesty. What is it?"

Charles studied him for a moment, then said simply: "Project Satanil."

Kensington’s stomach tightened, though his expression remained neutral. He had expected this conversation eventually—just not today.

The King leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocked. "I imagine you’re wondering how I know."

"It did cross my mind," Kensington admitted, measuring his words carefully. "Project Satanil’s reactivation was meant to be handled with the utmost discretion. Only a handful of people in government and the military were informed."

Charles exhaled slowly, as if disappointed that Kensington even had to ask. "Prime Minister, I am the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. By law, the military ultimately report to me." He let the statement linger before adding, "And, as you know full who my cousin is."

Kensington fought the urge to curse. He had underestimated the King’s access to military intelligence, despite knowing full well that Charles received classified briefings daily.

"I wasn’t trying to keep you in the dark, Your Majesty," Kensington said smoothly. "But given the sensitive nature of the program, I felt it was best to reestablish our nuclear deterrence before discussing it more broadly."

Charles regarded him for a moment before speaking. "Michael, I understand why you’re doing this. I am not naive about the state of the world. Beitenyu destroyed whatever taboo there was when they launched a nuclear strike against Xsampa. Kundrati is testing ICBMs. I know the reality we face." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "But do not mistake my understanding for approval of being left uninformed. You may run the government, but I am still the sovereign of this nation. I will not interfere in matters of policy—but I will not be blindsided again."

Kensington nodded, recognizing the unspoken warning. The King would not publicly challenge him, but if he felt he was being deliberately excluded from key matters of state, the relationship between Crown and government could become… complicated.

"Understood, Your Majesty," Kensington said finally.

Charles studied him for another moment, then gave a slow nod. "Good. Now, tell me about your plans for Dolgava."

The conversation resumed, but the balance of power had been quietly reinforced.

Kensington had won the battle to restart Hutori’s nuclear deterrence—but he had just been reminded who still held the throne.