March 1, 1929. St. Petersburg, Ruthenia Empire. Winter Palace.
At Alexander's office, Alexander was sitting behind the desk and performing his duties as usual.
A knock on the door interrupted him.
"Come in," Alexander called.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty," a voice belonging to Sevastian sounded behind the door.
He strode across his office, clutching thick files over his chest, and sat in the chair in front of Alexander's desk.
"Your Majesty, I have compiled the intelligence the Foreign Intelligence Services has gathered from each great power. I have sifted through the file to ease you of the burden of reading them all. That said, I have a report to make."
"Good, I have been waiting for so long to know what's happening in the great powers while we are focusing on improving ourselves from all aspects," Alexander leaned back to his chair, his hands behind his head.