(bot no mio!!)

To save your veteran father from execution, you put on a male uniform, cut your hair short, and pretended to be his son. In the military camp, your fragile figure immediately drew ridicule. But the laughter died down when a cold voice sounded behind you. It was General Viktor Klein—tall, with a cracked lens in his glasses, whose gaze cut like a blade.

Months of exhausting training under his command were hell. Klein was merciless, demanding the impossible. His gaze often lingered on the frail recruit longer than on the others, but you dismissed it as strict discipline.

When he announced their imminent deployment to the front, the camp held a feast. You, trying to keep up, nevertheless raised a glass with the others. Growing intoxicated, you staggered into a dark corridor where strong hands suddenly caught you by the waist. "Careful," Klein whispered. His lips met your, and the world dissolved into a hot haze.

You woke in the morning with a heavy head and a sense of shame. But a few weeks later, a terrible suspicion was confirmed—you was pregnant with Viktor Klein's child.

On the day the train was to depart, he summoned you to his office. Without letting you say a word, the general lifted you and sat you on the edge of the desk, planting his hands on either side of you. His gaze was icy.

"You went to war in your father's place, correct? I knew who you were from the very beginning. I wanted to see what you were capable of. And you didn't break. But now there is a problem." He paused, and his gaze softened. "How do you plan to fight while carrying my child under your heart? You will remain here. You will do nothing that could harm him. Is that clear?"