Steel Meets Silk [Commander Colt x F!OC]

4- Crown of Expectations

The morning light spilled through the windows of the studio as I completed my first public statement, my voice ringing with carefully rehearsed confidence. The reporters nodded approvingly, cameras capturing every word.

"The Husk Corporation remains steadfast in its commitment to the community. We are working tirelessly to stabilize local markets and support both the Republic's efforts and our industries during this uncertain time. The Husk family has always believed in progress and innovation. Now, we must guide our people through the challenges ahead."

As the final words left my lips, I forced myself to breathe gently, hoping to get rid of the tightness that had built up in my chest. It did not. The congratulatory nods from reporters and the faint noise of cameras clicking felt distant and hollow. I knew I had hit every mark Kalden and his team had set for me. But the words didn't feel like mine. They never had. 

I pushed away the uncomfortable feeling that had taken place in my chest and forced myself to stand a little taller.

"Good work, Anastasia," Father said as he walked next to me. "Everything went according to plan. Of course, you'll do more of these, but this was a great beginning.

I reflected in what Father's words: Of course, you'll do more of these. No appreciation. No solace. Only the relentless expectation that this was only beginning.

"We'll join you for dinner tonight," he added, his tone casual but expectant. "We'll go over the key takeaways from today's appearance, and your mother will want to see you as well." 

I offered a small, polite smile. "Of course, Father."

Before I could add anything else, Kalden was up at my side. 

"The next step is a one-on-one interview. Prime coverage. Keeping up the momentum is crucial," he stressed as he swept me away.

My head buzzed with residual tension, still tangled in the effort of maintaining my composure. Straighten your posture. Smile. Look confident.

The private set was smaller, more intimate. A single chair under a harsh spotlight. Across from it sat the interviewer, a man whose sharp eyes seemed to pick apart every detail of my presence. His smile was thin, practiced, and entirely devoid of warmth.

"Miss Husk," he greeted as I took my seat. "Thank you for joining us today. I'm sure your schedule is very... demanding."

"Of course," I replied, my voice measured, my tone polite.

The first few questions were straightforward. He asked about the Husk Corporation's recent initiatives, our alignment with the Republic, and how we were contributing to local economic stability. I delivered my answers with precision, each one crafted to reinforce the image we had so meticulously constructed. But then, his tone shifted.

"I'm sure the public is curious," he began, leaning forward slightly, his gaze narrowing. "What qualifies you, specifically, to speak on behalf of the Husk Corporation? Your background doesn't exactly scream 'business expert,' does it?"

The question felt like a slap, but I kept my expression neutral, willing the flush of anger to stay beneath the surface. "I've been immersed in the workings of the Husk Corporation my entire life. I've seen firsthand the values and principles that guide us, and—"

"Seen firsthand," he interrupted with a tight smile. "That's different from actually doing the work, isn't it? Many might argue that your presence here is purely symbolic—more about image than substance."

The word symbolic landed like a punch. It was an accusation I'd heard whispered behind closed doors, one I had worked tirelessly to rise above. My jaw tightened, but I refused to let him see it.