The Trash Guide Awakens: The Youngest General's Hidden Wife

By the following evening, the Rythundeir flagship crossed the outer threshold of the family’s protected star domain. The hum of the anti-gravity engines echoed through the metallic corridors as the massive vessel glided toward its berth.

Rhaevia spent the better part of the day recovering in her quarters, nursing the lingering ache from the Ancient Sovereign Seal’s erratic energy fluctuations. Her mind remained restless, continually echoing with the cryptic warning that had lodged itself deep within her consciousness.

When the king returns, find the shield.

She still had no idea what the shield actually was, nor why the ancient Zerg memory attached itself to her mental sphere. Yet, despite the looming ancient mysteries, a far more immediate matter demanded the household’s full attention.

An uninvited visitor had arrived at the domain.

When Rhaevia stepped through the automated doors of the main dining hall, she froze. Standing calmly near the centerpiece of the enormous dining table was Major General Raevor Veyr.

Dressed in his crisp, dark blue imperial military uniform, the youngest 3S Sentinel in the Empire looked unfazed by his surroundings.

Positioned directly across from him were her three brothers, their postures rigid and their expressions unyielding. The thick aura of hostility hanging in the air was practically tangible.

Her eldest brother stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes fixed on the guest with open distrust. Her second brother maintained an unreadable, calculating expression, assessing the General like a strategist calculating threat vectors.

Meanwhile, her youngest brother stared at Raevor with undisguised intensity, attempting to figure out how many maneuvers it would take to bring down a 3S Sentinel.

Rhaevia pressed her lips into a thin line to suppress a breath of amusement. This is going to be absurdly difficult to get through, she thought.

Her mother, the Duchess, noticed her entrance first and smiled warmly.

”Rhaevia, come sit,” her mother requested softly, gesturing toward the head of the table.

As Rhaevia stepped further into the hall, Raevor’s gaze shifted toward her immediately. Their eyes met for a fleeting second, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between them before he inclined his head respectfully.

She took her seat beside her mother, only for her youngest brother to promptly drag out the adjacent chair and sit right next to her.

Raevor sat directly across from Rhaevia, while her eldest and second brothers flanked him on either side, effectively surrounding the guest.

Rhaevia glanced around the grand table. Six people were seated for the evening: her parents, her three overprotective brothers, and one highly suspicious major general. She nearly smiled at the sheer absurdity of the seating arrangement.

The meal was served, but for the first thirty seconds, a suffocating silence settled over the room. Nobody made a move to eat.

Finally, her second brother set his utensils down with a sharp, deliberate clink against the fine ware.

”So, General Veyr,” her second brother began, breaking the silence with a cold tone.

Raevor calmly lifted his eyes from his plate, showing no hint of nervousness. ”Yes?”

”What are your intentions toward my sister?” her brother asked directly, leaning back in his chair.

Rhaevia nearly choked on the liquid she had just sipped from her glass. Beside her, their mother continued eating as if nothing unusual had been said, while their father remained expressionless at the head of the table. Her youngest brother watched the general with sudden, intense interest.

Raevor did not blink.

”I intend to keep her safe,” he answered evenly.

Her eldest brother narrowed his eyes, his voice lowering a notch. ”That is the same line you gave back on Planet V-17.”

”And it remains true today,” Raevor replied smoothly.

”Keeping her safe from whom, exactly?” her eldest brother pressed, resting his forearms against the table edge.

”From anyone who attempts to harm her,” Raevor stated without hesitation.

Her brother leaned forward, his eyes tracking every slight movement in the general’s facial expression. ”Even if that threat comes from the Imperial military itself?”

Raevor met his gaze head-on. ”Especially if necessary.”

Silence descended upon the dining hall once more. Rhaevia lowered her head, hiding the small, amused smile threatening to break across her face. He is actually taking their interrogation seriously, she realized.

Her youngest brother leaned across the table, chiming in with a frown. ”And what about political pressure from the Higher Command?”

Raevor turned his head toward the youngest Rythundeir. ”I will deal with it personally.”

”And if High Command issues a direct order demanding you hand her over?” her youngest brother demanded.

”I will refuse,” Raevor answered plainly.

Her three brothers exchanged swift, unreadable glances with one another. Rhaevia raised a single eyebrow, realizing that this family dinner had degraded into a high-stakes military tribunal in a matter of minutes.

Her mother finally set her glass down, addressing the visitor with a calm, refined demeanor.

”General Veyr,” the Duchess spoke, her voice cutting through the tension.

Raevor immediately adjusted his posture, turning toward her respectfully. ”Yes, Duchess?”

”You must understand that Rhaevia is no longer viewed as an ordinary academy cadet,” her mother noted gently.

”I am well aware,” Raevor replied.

”Her awakening as a 3S Guide has drawn the unwanted attention of the Empire, the High Command, and forces operating far beyond our borders,” her mother continued, studying his reaction.

”I understand the full scope of the situation,” Raevor confirmed.

”And despite knowing the weight of those factions, you still intend to remain directly beside her?” her mother asked.

Raevor’s dark eyes shifted across the table, landing squarely on Rhaevia. His cold, disciplined expression remained steady, but his gaze softened ever so slightly.

”Yes,” he said simply.

At his answer, Rhaevia felt her heart give an unexpected, sharp flutter against her ribs. She immediately dropped her gaze back to her plate, trying to compose herself. Why did those words sound so entirely different when he said them out loud?

Throughout the entire interrogation, the Duke had remained utterly silent. Unlike his sons, he had made no effort to intimidate the young general. Instead, he had simply sat back, studying Raevor’s body language and judging every response with practiced eyes.

Finally, the Duke placed his silver utensils onto the table with precise care.

The room instantly fell deathly quiet, every member of the family freezing in place. The Duke’s dark, commanding eyes locked onto the guest across from him.

”Major General,” the Duke addressed him, his authority filling the hall.

Raevor met the grand noble’s heavy gaze without a hint of flinching. ”Sir.”

”You have deliberately placed yourself between my daughter and the absolute highest authorities in the Empire,” the Duke stated calmly.

”I have,” Raevor acknowledged.

”You understand the catastrophic consequences of such a choice?” the Duke questioned.

”I do,” Raevor replied softly.

”You stand to lose your rank and military standing,” the Duke pointed out.

”I know,” Raevor said without reluctance.

”Your authority, your command over the fleet,” the Duke added.

”I am aware,” Raevor repeated.

”Perhaps even your personal freedom,” the Duke pressed, his voice dropping slightly.

Raevor’s expression never faltered under the immense weight of the Duke’s presence. ”I accepted those risks the moment I stepped in front of her.”

Rhaevia’s fingers tightened around her cloth napkin beneath the table edge as she listened.

Her father observed the young general in silence for several long seconds, weighing the man’s resolve. Then, the Duke posed the one final question that caused the atmosphere in the room to come to an absolute standstill.

”What do you intend to do about my daughter?” the Duke asked.

Rhaevia snapped her head up, her eyes wide. Her brothers sat frozen in their seats, while her mother watched Raevor with keen attention. Even the faint hum of the flagship’s environmental controls seemed to drop silent.

Raevor’s dark eyes shifted slowly away from the Duke, fixing entirely on Rhaevia. For a fleeting instant, the legendary, icy General looked genuinely human, his hardened aura melting into something quiet and soft.

He turned back to the Duke and delivered his answer without an ounce of hesitation.

”Whatever she chooses,” Raevor replied.