*
His eyes were like polished lacquer, the firelight flickering within them, dark and grim.
The young man's eyes were exceptionally clear, yet now they seemed veiled in a black mist.
After a long moment, he said softly, "So it was a dead end."
He then picked up a steamed bun and handed it to Amy.
A silence fell, broken only by the CRACKLE and POP of the fire.
"Little General," Amy clapped her hands lightly and grinned at him. "Didn't you want to serve the country with utmost loyalty, to pledge your life in its defense? Why do you seem so afraid now?"
"If I had been born in a time of chaos, alone in the world with nothing but my own life, then losing it would mean little. But now, with our home and country in peril, even if I have the heart to repay it with my death, I fear I cannot single-handedly prop up a collapsing mansion."
