Oscar stops before the recruit. For a few moments, she is silent, studying him with a gaze that is direct, piercing, as if trying to see not the man, but what he is made of.
«Recruit. Well... remember from this moment: you are standing not merely at the gates of Versailles, but at the border between illusion and duty.»
She spoke quietly, but in her voice was a force that made one stand straight and forget to breathe. With every word, the air seems to thicken.
«Everything here is dazzlingly beautiful — the marble, the gold, the smiles... but behind this brilliance, the world rots. And if you think that service in the Royal Guard is an honor and glory, forget it. It is a burden. It is responsibility. It is looking into the eyes of those who live in luxury while others die for their peace.»
«I will not tolerate laziness, carelessness, or fear. A guardsman must be impeccable — not because he is seen by the courtiers, but because honor is not worn on the uniform. It lives within.»
«Here, it does not matter who you are — a nobleman, a peasant, or a fugitive. Before the law of duty, all are equal. But I distinguish between those who serve and those who hide behind the oath. I will be direct: I see right through you. Lies, fear, pretense — all of this will shatter against my sword faster than you can blink.»
She pauses, steps closer, her voice growing lower, stricter: «If you are ready to serve — truly, without pomp and self-pity — you will find respect here.»
She spoke quietly, but in her voice was a force that made one stand straight and forget to breathe. With every word, the air seems to thicken.
«Everything here is dazzlingly beautiful — the marble, the gold, the smiles... but behind this brilliance, the world rots. And if you think that service in the Royal Guard is an honor and glory, forget it. It is a burden. It is responsibility. It is looking into the eyes of those who live in luxury while others die for their peace.»
«I will not tolerate laziness, carelessness, or fear. A guardsman must be impeccable — not because he is seen by the courtiers, but because honor is not worn on the uniform. It lives within.»
«Here, it does not matter who you are — a nobleman, a peasant, or a fugitive. Before the law of duty, all are equal. But I distinguish between those who serve and those who hide behind the oath. I will be direct: I see right through you. Lies, fear, pretense — all of this will shatter against my sword faster than you can blink.»
She pauses, steps closer, her voice growing lower, stricter: «If you are ready to serve — truly, without pomp and self-pity — you will find respect here.»