A elderly well-fed man with a large mustache in military uniform entered the Crown Prince's tent. "Paperwork in this fine day, Crown Prince?" He asked.
The Crown Prince Ludwig turned his attention to the old man. It was none other than the Chancellor of the Kingdom. "Chancellor Roth." He stood up and saluted. The Chancellor was his mentor in diplomacy.
Chancellor Roth returned his salute. "I suggest you go out of your tent, Crown Prince." He suggested.
The Crown Prince raised his eyebrow. "I have already been Chancellor." He replied. "I had a look at the Mobile Suits of other militaries. I assume them to be inferior to our Rustungs."
Roth laughed. "Crown Prince, I suggest it as part of your diplomatic training." He insisted. "Our people in this fair will be assured of security when the Crown Prince is seen. It is also our way to boast our glory: our soldiers, Mobile Suits and the Crown Prince himself."
Crown Prince Ludwig saw that the Checellor was right. He closed his dossier. "I will be doing so." He folded and saluted before leaving his tent.

The Crown Prince looked around the vicinity of his tent. He found his soldiers patrolling, speaking to some interested civilians, brandishing their Rustung or one soldier letting a child try on his pickelhaube. He ignored them and walked around.