Kingdom’s Bloodline
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chapter-604
Ballard Room, Renaissance Palace
The evening sun poured its light through the stone-framed window, painting long, shimmering streaks of gold and black across the council table, resembling a row of finely crafted sword blades. “Is this for real?”
Viscount Kenney, the Constellation’s Minister of Trade, raised an incredulous eyebrow as he carefully set down the ‘Petition of Jade City on Alternatives to Service’, which had just arrived in the conference room.
“The Master of the Iris Flowers.”
Kenney turned towards his fellow council members, a hint of amazement in his voice.“Duke Covendier is voluntarily asking for tax relief for Jade City, reducing the conscription of troops, and even backing the expansion of the royal family’s regular army to cover the gaps left by conscription. Can you believe it?”
The ministers at the Imperial Conference exchanged uncertain glances.
Only the scarred man from the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department, the one who had brought back that ‘Petition’, stood silently nearby, saying nothing.
“Forget about our positions for a moment. Doesn’t he understand the risks involved?” Viscount Kenney squinted, his expression subtly questioning.
“If Jade City really goes along with what’s written here, challenging tradition and upsetting the established order... Well, when every conscript from every fiefdom starts refusing to serve their liege lords with this excuse, Duke Covendier won’t just be the target of his vassals; he’ll become a lightning rod for criticism from the entire nobility in the Kingdom.”
“Not the whole system,” the Military Advisor, Solder Ryder interjected, his excitement evident by the arrival of the letter.
“Just those noble suzerains who stubbornly cling to outdated practices of militia conscription and resist transitioning to tax-based service.”Viscount Kenney casually placed the letter down with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“So, basically, that covers everyone except the die-hard royalists, right?”His words elicited laughter throughout the Imperial Conference.
“This letter couldn’t have come at a better time to voice our concerns and take some pressure off,” Solder said, wearing a smile.
“Whether it’s trimming the Jadestar Private Army or expanding the regular army, we’ve gained substantial political support from outsiders and the militia tax from Jade City. Now, as for the budget issues you mentioned, Kirkirk...”
However, the Chief of Finance simply rolled his eyes, remaining noncommittal.
Across the room, Gilbert accepted the letter with the Iris Flowers seal from Kenney’s hands and read it carefully, not wanting to miss a single word.
Even though it was the third time he had read it.
Finally, someone noticed that the Foreign Affairs Minister’s expression was exceptionally grim, quite out of place in the relaxed atmosphere of the meeting.
“This letter...” Gilbert muttered, “What exactly...”
“Old friend,” Solder observed Gilbert’s state and expressed concern, “is there a problem?”
The hushed silence of a few individuals in the meeting room began to dampen the earlier jovial atmosphere, gradually bringing a sense of quiet to the Ballard Room.
Gilbert didn’t say anything in response. He simply took a deep breath, lifted his head slowly, and fixed his gaze down the length of the long table, as though searching for answers.
On the other side, the King’s presence remained concealed in the darkness, motionless for an extended period.
It wasn’t until another plump hand reached out from the side.
“How incredibly timely it is that just as we were discussing how to reduce conscription without angering the masses and worrying about the budget to expand the regular army...”
The host of the Imperial Conference, the Prime Minister of the Kingdom, the Guardian Duke of the Eastern Sea, Bob Cullen, wore an uncharacteristically serious expression as he took hold of the ‘Petition’.
“Just when we were treading cautiously, fearing this issue could shake the very foundation and lead to civil strife, this letter arrives? It’s like handing our critics not only assistance and funds but also a ready-made cause to criticise, isn’t it?”
The words of Prime Minister Cullen prompted deep reflection from everyone in the council.
Cullen’s gaze shifted from the well-composed words on the paper, his expression turning doubtful as he glanced at the scar-faced intelligence officer from the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department.
However, the scar-faced man remained calm and respectful, seemingly unaffected, and kept silent. The Duke adjusted his protruding belly, shook the letter in his hand, and let out a soft sigh.
“What about Zayen himself?”
The scar-faced man appeared to snap back to attention and replied respectfully, “It’s been reported that the Duke of South Coast has left the capital and returned to Jade City to address urgent matters.”
“Urgent matters?”
Cullen revaluated Zayen’s handwriting, occasionally sending uneasy glances towards the end of the long table, and an unsettling chuckle escaped his lips.
“Indeed, excessively urgent, far too much so...”
Although it should have been good news, the unusual reactions of the Prime Minister and the Foreign Affairs Minister left the elite members of the Imperial Conference perplexed and uncertain. They turned their questioning gazes towards their supreme leader.
Yet, King Kessel sat there, unfazed.
Only the setting sun behind him, with its countless golden rays streaming through the windows, seemed to cast an aura around him. From a distance, it appeared as if he were either guarded by an array of swords... or confined within a cage.
“Prime Minister, Your Grace?” Viscount Kenney inquired tentatively.
However, Cullen merely raised a finger, a hint of amusement on his face.
“Solder, at first, I had my suspicions...”
The Prime Minister’s words had a sombre tone, rich in meaning, much like the evening bells at a
monastery.
“Your detailed report on the war situation in the North today, highlighting the lessons from the Eckstedt incident, was just to show goodwill to Prince Thales and perhaps speak favourably of his little lover from Dragon Clouds City...”
Military Advisor Solder Ryder was momentarily surprised.
“And your dramatic account of the Blade Fangs Camp incident, your ongoing criticism of conscripts, and your strong advocacy for expanding the regular army, all appeared to be posturing, at best, making bold demands only to later tone them down...”
Chief of Finance, Kirkirk Mann, couldn’t help but smirk.
“But now, with this letter...”
Prime Minister Cullen glanced briefly at the Iris Flowers seal on the letter, then turned to the King, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Your Majesty, it seems you came well prepared for today’s meeting.”
Kessel, the Fifth, raised an eyebrow in a subtle reaction.
The Prime Minister closed the ‘Petition’ slowly and chuckled, “Just as before, when the royal family’s regular army was sent to the Western Desert to clear the Great Desert in preparation for Prince Thales’s arrival, was that also a well-prepared move?”
His words carried a pointed meaning, and the courtiers in the room furrowed their brows in
response.
Among them, Gilbert trembled slightly.
He kept his gaze on the King from afar, his expression laced with bitterness.
But the next sentence from the Prime Minister was perplexing, “Just as the ‘Sand King’? Or the ‘Whispers’? Or might even be a mix of both?”
Sand King?
Whispers?
At that moment, the courtiers in the Imperial Conference exchanged puzzled glances, utterly bewildered.
Beyond the long table, the scar-faced man’s sleeve moved subtly.
However, the ministers quickly noticed that at the end of the table, the King’s gaze remained locked onto Duke Cullen, disregarding everyone else.
“Don’t be surprised, Your Majesty. Even Midier once sought my advice,” Prime Minister Cullen said, apparently not expecting a response. He just sighed and muttered to himself.
“Back then, although I was already quite plump, I was still a robust fellow.”The old duke’s words carried a mixture of nostalgia and a sense of loss.
“Now, if I were to lower my head, I wouldn’t even be able to see my own toes.”
Duke Cullen raised his head and asked, “And what about Your Majesty?”
Amidst widespread confusion, everyone instinctively turned their eyes to the end of the long table, focusing on that imposing figure, as unmoving and quiet as a stone statue.
“Bob.”
After a few moments of silence, the Iron Hand King spoke with an emotionless tone.
“You’ve done more than just put on weight.”
In that instant, the sunlight converged into numerous golden blades, bridging the space between them.
However, the Prime Minister remained seemingly unperturbed, maintaining his composed demeanour.
“You’ve also grown older.”
The Iron Hand King’s voice, unlike its previous weighty and resonant timbre, now carried a sharpness akin to a blade slicing through ice.
“And you’ve become weary.”
The gazes of King Kessel and Duke Cullen met in mid-air.
The courtiers collectively frowned.
“Yes, I’m wearier.”
A few seconds later, Cullen averted his gaze from King Kessel and spoke with deliberate composure, “Not like the Kingdom, thriving and moving forward, wheels turning without end.” The Duke of the Eastern Sea slowly lowered his head, letting out an indifferent, almost resigned hum. He appeared much like an ordinary elderly man, at peace with the passage of time.
“Be it this horse or that one, in the end, you’ve got to choose a horse to pull the cart, right?”
King Kessel’s gaze remained cold, and he offered no reply.
“But you’re not him.” Cullen concluded his last sentence, exhaustion evident as he closed his eyes.
“Not him.”
King Kessel still did not speak.
In that moment, the previously relaxed atmosphere in the Ballard Room had completely dissipated. Faced with the cryptic clash between the King and the duke, everyone was filled with confusion but held their tongues.
Except for one.
“Your Majesty.”
Gilbert raised his head with a complex expression, becoming the one to break the silence.
“Please forgive me for overstepping my authority.”
He held up the letter bearing the Iris Flowers crest, making it clear for all to see.
“But when was this petition actually written?”
“Last night? In the early morning?”
Gilbert’s gaze bore directly into the throne.
In that instant, the typically mild-mannered Cunning Fox of Constellation’s eyes turned sharp, even somewhat intimidating.
Prime Minister Cullen let out a subtle hum, whether deliberate or not, and added,
“Or perhaps just now?”
Whispers and hushed conversations swirled among the courtiers.
A few moments later, the King slowly turned his head, his focus shifting to the once-trusted foreign minister. His gaze, sharp as ice over sunlight, quickly extinguished any warmth.
King Kessel stared intently at Gilbert but didn’t utter a word.
The atmosphere in the Imperial Conference grew heavier, laden with sombre tension, almost suffocating, until someone couldn’t bear it any longer and interjected.
“Is it because of the royal banquet?”
On the other side, the Kingdom’s Chief of Finance, Kirkirk, cleared his throat, cautiously asking.
He grasped the seriousness of the matter, discarding his earlier cavalier demeanour.
“I left the banquet early, but I later heard that the Duke of Star Lake and the Duke of South Coast had a rather... unpleasant exchange during the event.”
Duke of Star Lake, Duke of South Coast, royal banquet
As these words were spoken, whispers once again filled the area around the council table. unpleasant exchange
Sure, as if attending a banquet with drawn swords, assisting assassins, taking guests hostage, and threatening the Prince could be described as merely an ‘unpleasant exchange’.
The King let out a dismissive snort, cutting through the private conversations.
“It was a minor misunderstanding.”
King Kessel’s words were firm and clear.
“It’s been resolved.”
resolved
Gilbert felt his heart sink.
Around the council table, no one dared ask how it had been resolved.
Viscount Kenney and the Minister of Agriculture, Lord Krapen, exchanged a quick glance and attempted to interject, easing the tension.
“Very well, so the Duke of South Coast still wishes to repair relations with us, unlike that One-Eyed Dragon from the Land of...”
“Just like that?”
But Gilbert’s voice rang out once more, breaking through their efforts.
“So, it’s because he acted against Prince Thales behind the scenes, and you have him by the strings, that this letter exists?” Gilbert departed from his usual demeanour, pressing with unwavering determination, his tone sharp and urgent.
“So, that’s it?”
Everyone in the room could sense it—the palpable tension between the King and the foreign minister was impossible to ignore, and it eclipsed even the brewing conflict between the King and the prime minister.
Gilbert always had a way with people. The advisor, Solder, slyly winked at him. Vicar General Stylia Nydis kept his composure, lightly tapping the table. Even the Finance Minister, Kirkirk, cleared his throat theatrically.
“Zayen is a clever young lad,” the Iron Hand King finally said, unhurried. “He picks up on things quickly.”
“Whenever he errs, he knows how to make it right.”
Many eyes turned towards the ‘Petition’ held in Gilbert’s hand, pondering.
“Make it right?”
Gilbert’s eyes remained locked on the King, his emotions defying easy expression.
“Is that so?” the Cunning Fox of Constellation sighed wearily.“Six years ago, when Prince Thales’ diplomat group got ambushed by vampires in the birch tree forest up north, you and he ‘resolved’ and ‘made it right’ in a similar way, didn’t you?”
The courtiers were visibly startled by this part of the story.
six years ago
vampires
“Even if Your Majesty knew Duke Covendier’s connection to the attackers?” Gilbert’s tone almost bordered on insistence.
No one dared to utter a word.
This time, King Kessel, seated at the head of the long table, fell into a prolonged silence.
“Politics at its core, my friend,” King Kessel eventually said slowly, “is the binding of interests.” Upon hearing those words, Duke Kessel furrowed his brow.
Gilbert’s expression grew even more bitter. “Yes, I remember; those were Prince Midier’s exact words.”
At the mention of this name, a shiver ran through everyone in the room.
“So, Gilbert, my friend, if you seek vengeance and retribution,” the Iron Hand King sneered, his tone suddenly harsh, “perhaps you should delve deeper into the ways of knighthood.”Faced with the King’s unrelenting words, Gilbert’s expression dimmed.
“Very well, Your Majesty... very well.”
The Minister of Foreign Affairs set down the letter and closed his eyes.
“But...”
Gilbert’s voice barely rose above a whisper, “Does Prince Thales know?”
A few people exchanged stares.
King Kessel fell into a momentary silence, his gaze purposefully crossing over the scar-faced intelligence officer, “He’s aware now.”
Gilbert slumped back, choosing silence.
As evening settled in. the sunlight transitioned from bright gold to a subdued red.
In that moment, even the supreme King, bathed in the evening sun, appeared somewhat flushed.
'seek vengeance and retribution'; lilMflg^S, meet resentment with upright dealing, 'suddenly harsh'; M$^®T to develop rapidly after abrupt turn (idiom); dramatic change.
Only his face remained shadowed and uncertain in the backlight.
A profound silence gripped the council chamber.
“That’s enough, everyone.”
Just when the attendees were uncertain about what to do, another voice spoke up at the right time.
It was decisive, breaking the solemn atmosphere.
“No matter how this letter ended up here, now that it’s in our possession, we can’t afford to ignore it.”
The advisor, Solder Ryder, spoke with intensity,
“Whether it was voluntary or not, whether it’s about making amends or striking a deal, the fact remains that Duke Covendier has ‘generously’ sacrificed his reputation and interests. He’s willing to face public criticism, petition Your Majesty, pay taxes, share the political burden, and rally for the Renaissance Palace...”
“He hasn’t.”
Solder Ryder turned his head in a state of utter surprise, while Gilbert, still with his eyes shut, rubbed his forehead.
“Sorry?”
Gilbert took a deep breath.
“From what I know, even back in the late days of King Aydi’s rule, under the previous Guardian Duke of South Coast. Leinster Covendier, the conscription system in Jade City was falling apart, almost non-existent.”
At the Imperial Conference, the ministers who were unfamiliar with the South Coast couldn’t appear more dumbfounded.
Prime Minister Cullen, however, raised an eyebrow.
“Well, it seems the younger generation knows a thing or two.”
“Indeed, the South Coast is a whole different story from the Western Desert,” said the Kingdom’s Prime Minister with a dry chuckle.
The others remained puzzled until Gilbert whispered,“After the Bloody Year, and due to the desolation of the territories as well as the need for recovery, Duke Leinster allowed his vassals not to answer mandatory conscription. Instead, they could pay a fee and hire professional mercenaries to deal with bandits and other major conflicts,” Gilbert patiently explained, reverting to his role as an advisor offering counsel to the King.
“Even today, the conscription system in Jade City has lost its integrity. What were once exceptions have become the rule, trickling down the hierarchy. When conscription orders arrive, households can avoid service by offering a bribe. The conscription system has become a legal loophole for officials to exploit the people and line their own pockets.”
The advisor, Solder Ryder, pondered these words.
The expressions of those in the room began to change.
King Kessel listened quietly to the explanation from the foreign affairs minister, his thoughts hidden.
“I remember it now, six years ago, during the National Conference meeting when we were discussing sending troops...”
Prime Minister Cullen shook his head thoughtfully, as if he had gleaned some insight.
“It seems that Zayen wasn’t entirely lying back then,” he mused.
Gilbert nodded, his thoughts burdened.
“In simpler terms, this petition, which appears to carry significant weight, is just a matter of course,” Gilbert clarified.
“The Duke of South Coast has framed the existing situation in Jade City as his sacrifice and loyalty, formalised the unspoken tradition into written law, and even argued that it’s necessary for the King and the regular army.”
“He doesn’t have to give up anything.”
Gilbert pushed the ’Alternatives Service Petition’ to the centre of the council table.
“Even if this decree gets approval from His Majesty, Covendier won’t face any real losses. Perhaps it could be an opportunity to root out corruption and inefficiency in administration, bring order to the chaotic tax and substitute service collection, make the long-suffering citizens who’vc paidthese fees happy, and earn praise for the Duke of Iris Flowers’ dedication to the people,” Gilbert explained.
On the other side, ‘Wallet’ Kirkirk chimed in with a scoff, “And he can conveniently pocket all the ill-gotten gains collected by conscription officials during the levies—all in the name of King Kessel and the royal regular army, of course.”
The Chief of Finance couldn’t hide his envy as he greedily rubbed his hands together.
“Covendier has been wealthy for many years; he certainly knows how to work the system.” Gilbert's expression grew serious.
“Further, as Duke Cullen pointed out, if we ever have to go to war again. South Coast Hill could easily counter our arguments at the National Conference. They can claim they had the King’s approval, paid their taxes and alternative service, and aren’t obliged to send troops.” The rotund Prime Minister nodded in agreement.
Gilbert turned to the visibly surprised advisor, Solder.
“As for what you mentioned, Solder, about the Iris Flowers Duke supporting the Renaissance Palace, providing political backing, and vocal support...”
Gilbert paused for emphasis.
“Don’t forget that Zayen only presented this ‘petition’ to His Majesty after he was publicly accused as the mastermind behind the scenes by Prince Thales during the banquet.”
Prime Minister Cullen continued in Gilbert’s stead, looking rather pleased.
“If this news were to spread, with carefill handling, it wouldn’t just symbolise the Iris Flowers' allegiance to the royal family. It would merely be seen as a reluctant move by Covendier, compelled by pressure from the Renaissance Palace. Jade City wouldn’t be blamed; instead, it might gain sympathy from its vassals and the broader nobility within the Kingdom—‘the King must have forced his hand.'”
The Prime Minister blinked with a hint of meaning. “Isn’t that so?”
No one responded.
“Instead, it’s actually more about the Renaissance Palace,” Gilbert’s voice came in, now calm and gentle.
“This issue is inherently delicate. If we’re branded as ‘forcing vassals’, be it in reducing conscripted soldiers or expanding the regular army, we’ll only face even greater pressure...”
He didn't finish his thought, but the air in the conference chamber grew heavier.
“What a shame,” lamented Chief of Finance Kirkirk, slapping his thigh in frustration.
“If only Prince Thales, after discovering the truth, hadn’t openly confronted Covendier but had kept his temper in check and discreetly reported to His Majesty. That would have been much better.”
“So, you see,” Duke Cullen casually remarked, glancing towards the end of the long table, “young ones, don’t be too hasty in your actions.”
Gilbert's analysis drained away any enthusiasm the council had gained from the revelation of the letter, leaving them disheartened. They were already weary, and now their spirits sank even lower. “But, my fellow colleagues,” the military advisor took a deep breath, regained his composure, and raised his hand to grab the council’s attention.
“Perhaps the Iris Flowers have their own plans, but that shouldn’t deter us from making our choices,” Solder tried to convince the courtiers.
“The most critical point here is that if the contents of this letter turn out to be true, we would have access to Covendier’s substitute service taxes, which we could use to expand the regular army...” But he was interrupted.
“I’m not here to pour cold water on your ideas, Big Soldier,” the Chief of Finance’s familiar mocking tone resurfaced, causing Solder to furrow his brow.
“However, exempting every suzerain from their duty to provide troops in favour of a special tax, using the collected funds to strengthen the regular army, and then using that force to fill the gap left by the disbandment of conscripted soldiers for homeland defence and law enforcement, it actually sounds quite promising...”
Finance Minister Kirkirk grinned wryly with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“However, I deal with those crafty merchant suzerains from Jade City every quarter; trust me, while they might have their faults, every time tax collection rolls around...” Solder snorted in frustration.
“They dare to evade taxes?”
“Even worse,” Kirkirk squinted.
“They keep meticulous financial records.” Solder was caught off guard.
“What?”
Many in the room wrinkled their brows, and Prime Minister Cullen shot a knowing glance at
Gilbert, wearing an expression that seemed to say, “I suspected as much.”
Kirkirk shook his head in disdain.
“I’ll tell you, their accountants are on par with those Camians. Their tax records are squeaky clean; not a single detail hidden. But the calculations for tax rates, the choice of taxable items, and the flow of funds are incredibly convoluted...”
“Can you believe it? Jade City is rolling in wealth; their maritime and land trade businesses have seen years of continuous growth, and their total liquid assets could buy several small duchies. Yet, books are still in the red! Our tax collectors have scoured their books and couldn’t find a single error. There’s no room to skim off money, and who knows, we might even owe them a tax refund...”
The Chief of Finance opened the ‘Petition’, gave it a disgusted look, and then casually tossed it aside.
“As for what’s mentioned here, the substitute service taxes, tell me, Solder, do you really think they’ll suddenly have a change of heart and send you a hefty sum out of the kindness of their hearts?”
Solder’s eyes widened in disbelief at the unfolding events.
Kirkirk turned towards the King, his tone becoming notably more respectful.
“If this is the ‘budget’ you've all been anticipating, Your Majesty, Solder.”
“Forgive my frankness, but it hasn’t yielded the desired results.”
“As for expanding the regular army, let’s reconsider that after assessing the income for the next quarter.”
The King said nothing.
Solder, on the other hand, clenched his fists tightly.
The Chief of Finance’s words brought a sobering reality to the entire council, plunging them into a disappointed silence.
“So, is this letter from Jade City just a load of hot air? I mean, if we actually go along with it, they don’t lose a squat, and they come off all reasonable, even raking in the goods.”
The Minister of Agriculture, Lord Krapen, spoke with a trembling voice, “But it’s us looking like we got the upper hand, yet ending up as the bad guys, losing our bloomers in the process.”
“Those sly folks from down south,” Viscount Kenney grumbled as he chucked the petition onto the table, clearly not thrilled. “So, what’s your take? Is the Iris Flowers just winging it when the going gets tough, or did they have this card up their sleeve from the get-go, waiting for this moment?”
The courtiers exchanged uncertain glances, but none had a solid answer.
It wasn’t until the King’s voice rang out,
“This is certainly not the ideal solution.”
King Kessel’s tone stayed calm as he brought the conversation back to his preferred direction, saying, “But it’s the most significant compromise Jade City can make.” The Iron Hand King gazed thoughtfully at the letter.
“Just that sword from the banquet doesn’t carry enough weight.”
Gilbert couldn’t help but sigh to himself.
“Darn it, why’d that Western Desert lad at the banquet settle for only targeting the guests?” The military advisor slammed the table with frustration,
“If only his crime was a tad bigger, like an attempt on the Prince’s life...”
Gilbert snapped, angrily rebuking, “Solder!”
But Solder simply waved his hand indifferently, saying, “Alright, alright, you know I didn’t mean it that way...”
Solder turned around, his gaze fixed on the letter resting on the table, and he sighed.
“Gilbert, think again; is there really no other way? This letter, it’s a golden opportunity to tackle both our political and budget issues...”
Before the Minister of Foreign Affairs could respond, Kirkirk cut in with a cold tone.
“Were you even paying attention during your lessons, Big Soldier? This won’t solve a thing.” Gilbert nodded wearily.
“If His Majesty approves this petition’s proposal, starting military reforms with Jade City would be the controversial first step...”
He glanced in the direction of the King, his emotions complex.
“...But the Renaissance Palace would have to bear all the consequences mentioned earlier, apart from the Duke of South Coast’s hollow support and the uncertain tax revenue. The benefits are, frankly, limited.”
“Even if we end up having to approve it,” Duke Cullen seemed rather upbeat, “unlike dealing with minor scuffles like reorganising the Jadestar Private Army, as soon as this petition becomes public through official documents or decrees, the matter of military reform will surely trigger a massive upheaval across the Kingdom, and we’ll be right in the middle of it, with no way to back down.” In the shadowy corners of the long table, the King’s gaze gradually sharpened.
“After all, such an inflated price is just a tactic,” Cullen remarked, looking at the disheartened Solder and tutting. “What really matters is settling the debt. We can’t seriously expect to fetch such a fortune.”
These words further weighed down the military advisor’s spirits.
Master Kirkirk discreetly stifled a yawn, glanced around, and, adopting a tone that suggested the meeting’s conclusion, cautiously asked, “So, what about this letter?”
“Just ignore it.” Gilbert’s voice conveyed both resignation and resolve,
“Blend it into the sea of official documents and letters in the Renaissance Palace; let it fade away without causing any waves.”
In the council meeting, his response was met with an uneasy silence.
Until the King’s voice broke the silence once more.
“So,” King Kessel chuckled softly, but his laughter held no joy, sending a shiver down everyone’s spine, “we’ve been sitting here all day...”
“...While my son faced an assassin at the banquet and narrowly escaped death in a duel...” At that moment, the Iron Hand King’s face emerged from the setting sun, bearing an eerie, unexplainable presence.
“...And all we’ve gained is... this?”
The courtiers collectively lowered their heads, none daring to answer that question.
Only Duke Cullen calmly sipped his tea, his gaze fixed on the end of the council table.
“It’s unfortunate, Your Majesty, but this letter can’t provide you with what you desire.”
“That’s right, the wheels of progress keep turning,” the Duke of Eastern Sea set down his teacup, adjusting his slightly crooked belt with satisfaction. “But not through sheer force.” At the end of the long table, King Kessel, under the quiet evening sun, remained silent.
Only a pair of eyes faintly shimmered in the darkness.
