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IGIWS: Ch.238 Derailing The Emergency Session.
🕑 Added 2024-06-06 11:32:05 +0000 UTCThe Parliamentary Chamber was a beautiful room with dark wood and golden decorations. The ceiling had a large round skylight window in the middle, which had colorful stained glass around it. In the middle of the room, there was a large round table with many seats. Behind the table, there was a raised platform with ten cushioned seats for the advisors or guests to sit with whatever Major Noble House was presenting to the King and his Council.
The room had a lot of portraits of famous Fiafyrians who were influential leaders throughout history.
There was also a large wooden door that led outside onto a balcony overlooking the courtyard.
'Wow! The craftsmanship is out of this world.' Rya thought as she took in the view.
"Psst... Alpha... We're getting glared at," Dalia whispered.
Terenthiel, Zane, and Sir Darius eyed the dark elf, the wood elves, and their wolfkin companion.
"Hmm?... Jeez... They are... I feel like I'm in high school again... With dumbasses that think they're tough," Rya sighed.
"Highschool?" Nieren asked.
"It's a previous life thing... I'll tell you later... if I remember," Rya sighed, following Quinus around the round table to the seats behind it.
The Prime Minister walked out a door near the platform and took a seat in the center of the advisor's seats.
Quinus sat at the King's chair, and the others sat behind him. Johan took his father's seat, which was in between the other Barons, Eamon Stirling and Thaddeus Windermere. Tayna sat in a chair behind her husband.
Terenthiel and his men were seated on the right side of the table. At the same time, the remaining advisors were on the left side of the table.
The last two nobles of note were Count Sebastian Ingham and Earl Nathaniel Valerian. Ingham's face was stoic and uninteresting, and Valerian looked uneasy—for what reason? Rya wondered to herself as she took her seat.
Alaric, William, Leandra, and Hilda were already waiting in their seats when Quinus and the others came in. They watched as the prince and his party found their seats.
Rya could hear Duval whispering to his advisors.
"Are you sure that no other houses will make it to the capital in four days?" Duval asked.
"I'm positive, milord. Most have been notified and won't be showing up within the time frame... As long as the Duke doesn't side with the prince... We should be able to expel the dark elf through the emergency act," whispered Duval's Chief Advisor.
"Good... I've had enough surprises for a lifetime," Duval replied.
'Shit... So he thinks he can put some bullshit on me to kick me out... Well, let's see what the Prime Minister is made of,' Rya thought as she narrowed her eyes.
Quinus had his hands together in front of his face and stared at the Prime Minister and then at his uncle. He also noticed the beautiful redhead sitting behind him with his aunt, whispering something in her ear. She nodded and stared at Quinus.
'Well... She's a looker, for sure... But I already have the woman of my dreams... And I'll protect her against everyone—'
Hilda stretched her arms overhead, causing her large bosoms to push outward and giving Quinus a good view of them. His cheeks flushed, and he struggled to tear his eyes away from the beautiful sight.
'Goddess be damned!... Focus, Quin! Focus!... This fucking world has too many beautiful women... These stupid instincts are killing me!'
Quinus cleared his throat and redirected his attention to the Prime Minister. However, he noticed a dark elf glaring at him with an annoyed expression.
"I know, babe. Don't worry. No matter what happens, I'll always be on your side," Quinus said softly.
Rya smiled and gave her boyfriend a look. "I love you... But if you ever stare at her chest again... I'll rip out your eyes and then heal you back to normal before I do it again. Do I make myself clear?" She grinned menacingly to emphasize her point.
"Ouch... Okay, I'll try not to," Quinus smirked, trying to diffuse his lover's anger.
"Ahem... Let us begin the meeting. Today, we shall discuss the recent events and the future of the kingdom... It is unfortunate that things devolved into this. But we will do our best to move forward and fix this mess. The first order of business is the protection of the Fiafyrian people. We all know that the Prince, who seems to be under some—"
"Watch your tongue," Sir George said with a glare.
"Ahem... If the Prince's retainer is going to disrupt the court... Then he will be removed and—"
"He will be on his best behavior... Prime Minister," Quinus said with a glare.
Duval sighed and continued.
"I'm sure the Prince can understand the precarious position I am in... But let us continue. We will be voting on the protection of the kingdom by expelling the Dark—"
"Lady Rya!... You're a noble, correct?... Then treat my daughter with respect!" Yuliana shouted.
Duval glared at Yuliana, "A Wood Elf has a Dark Elf daughter? Do you take me as a fool... Miss?"
Yuliana straightened her posture and gave him a curtsy, "My name is Princess Yuliana Sylvanor Vellanax. I am the daughter of the former King, Faelindor Sylvanor, and his wife, the former Queen, Ceara Sylvanor. Stewards of the great tree, Yggdrasil."
A collective gasp echoed throughout the room, a sharp intake of breath that sliced through the tense atmosphere. Whispers of disbelief rippled among the gathered individuals, for it had long been believed that the Royal Line of the Wood Elves had been extinguished decades prior, lost to the annals of history. Yet here stood a living testament to that storied lineage—a surviving member, her presence a revelation that had been hidden in plain sight all along.
Amidst the murmurs of astonishment, one figure remained strikingly quiet: Terenthiel. His brow furrowed in concentration, distant thoughts flickering behind his eyes like shadows in the fading light. While others were caught up in the unfolding drama, he stayed poised and contemplative, his silence a mystery amid the chaos around him.
Duval looked annoyed as Yuliana dropped her family names on him. She was not only the daughter of elven royalty, but she had the noble last name of a High Elf. Vellanax was a famous High Elven line that tamed wyvers. If it wasn't for the angels and some demon races, they would rule the sky with impunity.
'This can’t be happening! If she truly is who she claims to be, she’ll give this Dark Elf the legitimacy needed to wed the Crown Prince! I have to act fast and sabotage her—you can’t let this happen!' Duval fixated on the Wood Elf, studying her intently. “So, you’re telling me you hail from the Royal lineage of the Wood Elf Kingdom?”
"Indeed, I am a Princess," Yuliana proclaimed, her voice steady yet laced with emotion. "I took in Lady Rya as my own after she tragically lost her parents during the brutal raids on the Dark Elf territory—no thanks to you," she added, her finger accusingly directed at Terenthiel.
Terenthiel met her gaze, his expression a mixture of defiance and disdain. He refused to back down under the weight of her accusation. The air crackled with tension as the Divine Three were in the middle of purging the Dark Elves.
"You dare accuse me of killing her family?! I haven't stepped foot in the Darkwood forest in the west!... Your kind is nothing but savages who slaughter any human they come across!... How is she even here?!" Terenthiel demanded.
“Silence! Both of you!” Duval’s voice boomed, cutting through the tension like a knife. Yuliana and Terenthiel instantly fell quiet, the weight of his command hanging heavily in the air. “This matter is for the House of Lords to resolve, Prince Terenthiel," Duval said as he turned his gaze toward the Wood Elf. “If you dare to make accusations, you better come armed with proof, Princess. How can we believe your claims of royal blood from the fallen kingdom of the Wood Elves? If you truly are the daughter of the former king, where is your crown? Your royal garments? Your father’s sword?” A cruel smirk twisted Duval’s lips as he leveled his gaze at Yuliana, challenging her to respond.
Yuliana paused for a moment, the weight of the occasion settling on her shoulders like a heavy cloak. With a graceful wave of her hand, she signaled to Nieren, who promptly brought forth an ornately designed box and a long, slender bag that draped elegantly over her arm.
As she opened the lavish box, a soft gasp escaped her lips. Inside lay her brother's crown, a stunning piece that shimmered with an ethereal glow. With careful deliberation, she lifted the crown from its velvet resting place and placed it upon her head. The golden filigree, artfully crafted to resemble entwined tree branches, seemed to come alive as she adorned herself as if nature itself crowned her with its beauty.
Next, she turned her attention to the slender bag. With a practiced motion, she unveiled their family sword, pulling it from its sheath. The blade was an exquisite creation forged from enchanted wood, its surface glistening under the ambient light. Its hilt shone with a luxurious gold hue, set with an emerald gemstone that sparkled with an inner fire. As Yuliana drew upon her mana, a warm glow enveloped the crown and sword, illuminating the space with an almost otherworldly light.
Before her, the air shimmered, and her family's sigil—a delicate white leaf—materialized before the crown, a testament to her lineage and heritage. Stepping forward with purpose, she set the enchanted blade in the center of the table with reverence. A collective gasp filled the room as everyone’s eyes widened at the sight, drawn to the display of power and legacy that radiated from her presence.
'This is...' Duval's blood drained from his face as his eyes grew wide, the realization that the Wood Elf spoke true dawning on him. He glanced at the stunned faces around him, his stomach twisting into a knot as he recognized the danger before him.
"I-Impossible! Those must be replicas. There's no way—" Duval spluttered, his composure slipping as his world started to crumble around him.
"Replicas?" Yuliana channeled her mana through her family's sword, the Gae Bulg. A bright glow radiated from the emerald gemstone, casting an enchanting shimmer across the blade. Soon, the blade twisted like a vine, with flowers and thorns beginning to sprout along its edge.
"These are not replicas. These are my family's heirlooms—proof of my lineage as the Great Elder Tree's Spirit forged it from the depths of the earth and blessed my ancestors. My father passed these down to my brother, who fell to the Kings Slayer. But the Kings Slayer met his end at the hands of my adopted daughter, who returned it to me. My line is strong and will continue through both my daughters. Through them, the Fiafyrian Kingdom will witness a new age," Yuliana said, glaring at Duval and the Alliance Prince before she returned the blade to its sheath.
Duval's gaze flickered over to Terenthiel, the look on his face betraying his shock and fear. 'No, no, no, no. This can't be happening. WAIT!? She said that this Dark Elf killed the legendary Kings Slayer. Does she take me for a fool!? No one knows where the Black Roses hide, nor has anyone heard anything about the Kings Slayer's demise. There's no way he's dead. The Kings Slayer is an assassin who has taken the lives of multiple kings! He would never allow himself to be defeated by a Dark Elf. She's bluffing! This is a ploy to win the sympathy of the Council! Well, it's not going to work on me. I refuse to be taken for a fool!'
Duval looked at Yuliana with a smirk. He thought it was all a lie, so he spoke his thoughts out loud.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Can't you see this is all an elaborate ruse to trick us and make the Dark Elf look more favorable in the Council's eyes? No one has heard the whereabouts of the Black Rose Mercenaries nor the Kings Slayer ever since the Kingdom of Marn tried to imprison them. It is not uncommon for those of the underworld to create stories like these to gain a sense of legitimacy. I don't know what the Wood Elf's end game is, but I won't fall for such obvious lies."
Rya and Quinus smirked as the Prime Minister's words rang out. Duval wasn't informed about the current status of the Black Rose Mercenaries nor the fact that the Kings Slayer was now dead. The only other person who knew of the destruction of the mercenary group was the King and the Duke, but Alaric was the one who hired them in the first place, and he wasn't going to share that information with anyone, especially a snake like the Prime Minister.
Quinus motioned to Percy and Sir George to come forward. They pulled out a bag and dumped the contents on the round table. It was full of the black rose sigils they all wore. Quinus then pulled out Rudalf Rose's ring and tossed it onto the table.
"It's disappointing that our Prime Minister is unaware of the affairs within his own kingdom. These are the remains of the Black Rose Mercenaries, as well as the ring belonging to their leader, Rudalf Rose, who is now dead," Quinus declared. "He and his men tried to conquer Ironside while I was there after we stopped the Labyrinth from spewing out its goblin hordes. That was almost two months ago, Marquess," Quinus said with sarcasm in his tone.
Duval looked at the Prince and then back at Yuliana. His expression became grim as he realized the gravity of the situation. He had just accused a princess of the Wood Elf kingdom of lying, and he had no idea of all the events that had transpired since Quinus left to deal with the Tomb of the Horde.
'Dammit! Did the King keep this from me? He's openly trying to sabotage the peace treaty, isn't he?! Well, he can't stop me! It's going to happen whether he likes it or not! I need to investigate further. But if the Black Roses are gone, does that mean the Kings Slayer is dead? No, there's no way a Dark Elf could take down the most dangerous assassin on the continent. But this Wood Elf possesses the Crown and the Sword of her Ancestors... If she is who she claims to be, then this Dark Elf is a Princess, eligible to marry the Crown Prince,' Duval thought as he looked at the Wood Elf, who glared back at him.
The Prime Minister's mind raced as he tried to understand how the King could conceal something as significant as the death of the Black Rose Mercenaries and the fall of their leader from him. He suspected it was related to the King's efforts to derail the Peace Treaty. However, he would need to confront him later, as he had a more urgent matter to address.
"Fine... But it doesn't mean she's a Royal. For all we know, she could be an imposter playing us as fools," Duval said while crossing his arms. Some of the House of Lords were looking at Duval like he was an idiot, and some were even chuckling, especially Earl Valerian.
"I beg your pardon?" Yuliana's eyes widened in surprise.
Quinus jumped in before Yuliana did something rash. Duval must have wanted her to attack him and use his injuries to expel her. He was an asshole, but he was a cunning one.
"Prime Minister... Do you seriously want to insult a Princess in front of the whole council? It's very unbecoming of a man in your position. We all know the Crown and the Sword are authentic and belong to her. And I was there to end Rudalf Rose's life. If you don't believe me, then speak to Baron Zellin Coldforge," Quinus said in a cool and collected tone, making Duval sweat again. "And I wish you would show the respect my future mother-in-law deserves. It is not proper for a man of your station to be calling her a liar," he added, his voice dripping with barely restrained anger.
Yuliana's ears twitched, and she felt embarrassed, 'Th-These humans and their weird customs! Mother-in-law!? It's not that big a deal, right?' She turned her head and looked at the Prince, who smiled at her. She felt her cheeks heat up and smiled back.
"Even if it was true... Where's her people? Where's her kingdom?... She is no better than a commoner to me," Duval huffed, trying another time to get Yuliana to attack him.
Yuliana's anger flared, but Nieren and Rya quickly sprang into action, grasping her hands with reassuring warmth.
"Are we finally done interrupting this session? Excellent! Now, where was I? Ah, yes..." Duval's voice rose, resonating with authority. "For the safety of our Kingdom, I propose we expel Lady Rya Vellanax from our lands! We cannot allow her presence to threaten the delicate peace between our people and the Alliance. It’s time for her to seek her fate elsewhere!"
A ripple of murmurs surged through the gathering, voices swirling with speculation and concern.
Quinus narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the Major Nobles assembled in the grand hall. He could feel the tension in the air, each noble's reaction a potential clue to the shifting tides of loyalty and dissent.
“I second that notion!” Sebastian exclaimed, his voice rising above the murmurs of the room.
With a decisive bang, Duval struck the gavel against the polished wood of the table, the sound echoing through the assembly hall. “The motion has received secondary approval,” he announced, his tone firm and authoritative. “We will now enter into deliberation before proceeding to a vote.”
He lifted his gaze, scanning the expectant faces around the room. “Earl Nathaniel Valerian, the floor is yours,” Duval declared, gesturing with a nod toward the dignified figure seated at the front.
"Well, Prime Minister... I don't know much about Lady Rya's actions before coming here, but I do know that the Dark Elves' magic is very powerful. And we need to understand that this gorgeous young girl may have had an influence over our future king... But didn't she save his life during his quest to stop the monster stampede?... I think it would be hasty to exile Lady Rya without getting to know her first."
Murmurs of approval spread through the assembly like a gentle wave, but Duval's expression turned stern. The corners of his mouth tightened in an unmistakable show of discontent. He had never anticipated that Nathaniel would stand by his side, yet the unexpected solidarity only deepened his disappointment.
The Earl, a figure of both authority and charisma, spoke up with a measured tone that carried across the chamber, “What if we grant her a month or two? After all, she is his betrothed. Let her prove herself to the court,” he proposed, his gaze sweeping over the gathered nobles.
Quinus felt a swell of gratitude and relief settle in his chest. Earl Nathaniel, King Cyndre's steadfast confidant and best friend, had come to his aid without a word of warning, a gesture that reflected the unbreakable bond of brotherhood forged over the years. Their growing friendship served as a sanctuary amidst the turbulence of court politics, a lifeline in moments of uncertainty.
Meanwhile, Duval's jaw clenched, the tension in his body radiating like a coiled spring. He masked his frustration with a veneer of stoicism, refusing to reveal even a hint of vulnerability before the Council. In this game of power and influence, showing weakness was not an option.
"Well... that’s a consideration," he said, his voice measured. "That's if this measure fails to pass... But I doubt that... Count Sebastian Ingham, the floor is yours."
Sebastian nodded with a composed confidence.
"My esteemed Council members and Lords," he began, his voice resonating through the chamber, "before us stands a Lady of a particularly perilous race—especially the female dark elves. They are infamous for their enchanting prowess, charming men to bend to their will. I propose we return her to her homeland, where she can reign as a Queen of the forest, far from our Prince’s influence.”
As his words hung in the air, a wave of support surged from Duval’s aides, clapping and cheering with fervor. Duval felt a surge of satisfaction. It felt like the tide was turning in his favor.
"Lord Eamon Stirling, the floor is yours," Duval announced, his voice echoing through the tense council chamber.
Eamon rubbed his chin thoughtfully, hesitation flickering across his face. The weight of the moment pressed down on him. After a brief pause, he spoke up, “Honestly, I struggle to know what more to say. I find myself in agreement with the Prime Minister. There remains uncertainty surrounding the prince's relationship with this Dark Elf. Is he merely enchanted, or perhaps even cursed?”
He turned to Crown Prince Quinus, a hint of regret in his eyes. “Forgive me, your Highness, but as a Lord in this House, I cannot cast my vote in favor of her—especially considering our promise to unite you with Princess Hilda Stoneworthh. It’s nothing personal, I assure you.”
Quinus’s hands clenched into fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. It felt as if he was fighting an uphill battle.
"It’s alright... I see your point,” he replied, his voice surprisingly calm despite the storm within. “But I swear she's done nothing to me. What if she proves herself? One day, I will wear the crown. Don’t you trust my judgment to make the right choice?” Quinus asked, a note of desperation creeping into his tone. The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air as the council considered the future of their kingdom.
His voice carried the weight of determination, and the council chamber fell silent. The stakes were higher than ever.
“It’s not just about trust, Your Highness,” Eamon replied, his voice steady but laced with urgency. “The safety of our Kingdom hangs in the balance. She’s not one of us; she’s a being beyond our understanding. Why would she care for a race that views her as nothing more than a threat?”
Quinus inhaled deeply, stealing a glance at his fiancée, Rya. She sat with an air of calm confidence as though she had anticipated this moment all along.
'How can she be so composed? Quinus wondered, feeling a rush of uncertainty wash over him as he turned to his council for support. They exchanged uneasy glances, clearly lacking the resolve he had hoped for. He had believed he could sway Baron Eamon, but it seemed the baron remained staunchly opposed to Rya, with Baron Thaddeus poised to follow suit.
“Lord Thaddeus Windermere, the floor is yours,” Duval announced, his voice cutting through the tension.
Thaddeus, a man in his late thirties, was the youngest member of the House of Lords yet lacked a formal ministry position. His brow furrowed as he addressed the assembly. “I've never been fond of dark elves,” he declared, glancing pointedly at Rya. “I’m not sure what brings this Lady here today, but I cannot ignore the potential threat she poses. If there’s even a whisper of a secret plot among the dark elves, we must act swiftly.
“And as betrothed to our future king, she wields considerable influence—an influence we cannot afford to be undermined.”
Rya’s voice cut through the room like steel. “And what exactly is your theory about this ‘plot’?” she asked, her gaze unwavering as she met Thaddeus’s eyes head-on, challenging his assumptions. She was sitting back long enough to get a read of the room, and she learned all she needed to know. She knew which lords she could sway and which ones she could undermine. It felt all too familiar—like she was back on Earth, navigating the treacherous waters of boardrooms filled with directors who thought they could rattle her.
Thaddeus shifted uncomfortably, visibly taken aback by her directness. “You aren’t even a member of this Council, Lady Rya,” he retorted, his voice laced with irritation. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Avoiding the question, are we?” Rya shot back, her tone sharp.
Quinus exchanged a glance with Thaddeus, a silent warning etched in his expression: don’t say anything foolish. The Baron understood the unspoken message—Rya wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Thaddeus let out a weary sigh, his gaze piercing into Rya.
"We can't trust you," the Baron declared, his voice steady as a rock. "You're a dark elf."
Rya leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Listen, I know I have my flaws, but everywhere I go, people love to blame me for things I haven’t done. Take this so-called Charm spell, for instance. If I really had it, wouldn't I have used it on you by now? It would certainly make my life a lot simpler," she asserted, her voice steady.
The Baron opened his mouth to retort, but the words faltered. He had no valid counterargument.
“Perhaps you have a point,” he admitted after a moment, his brow knitting with concern. “But I can’t rely solely on your words; I need concrete proof of your trustworthiness.”
Rya tilted her head, curiosity glimmering in her expression. “And what exactly would convince you, Baron Thaddeus?”
A smirk played at the corners of Thaddeus's lips as he shook his head, a hint of admiration breaking through his guarded demeanor. “That’s the million-gold-piece question, isn’t it? Honestly, I’m not sure what you could do to change my mind... But when you do, I’ll be certain to let you know, Lady Rya.”
“Then I accept the challenge,” she replied, her confidence radiating like a torch in the darkness.
Duval didn't like how one of his allies in his coalition was going soft.
"Ahem!... Is there anything you wish to add, Lord Thaddeus?"
The Baron looked at the Prime Minister.
"I have nothing else to say, My Prime Minister," Thaddeus answered.
"Good," Duval said before turning his attention back to his notes. "Since Baron Johnathan Dule isn't present and his next in line is here... Young Lord Johan Dule... The floor is yours."
Johan was sitting next to his wife, Tayna. And he nodded his head.
"I have a unique perspective on this subject because I have traveled with Lady Rya this past week... She's done nothing but impress me, not only as a mage, but her wit... She's wiser beyond her years—"
"Pfft!... Anyone can be wise when they are over a hundred years old," Viscount William Lysander scoffed.
Johan glared at William before Rya chimed in, "I'm twenty-seven... And who are you, again?"
William smirked at what he thought was a naive elf.
"Oh?... You don't know who I am? And here I thought you were smart—"
"I know your name, William... But the thing I don't understand is how are you a Major Noble when your lands bring so little to the kingdom?" Rya said so matter-of-factly that William's smile dropped.
The Viscount shifted in his seat to improve his posture. He wasn't going to let that damn elf get the better of him.
"My lands nearly encompass the entire coastline of our kingdom... And we want to send our surplus of food and goods... It must pass through my lands, and if you weren't so ignorant of our world, you would know that my lands are one of the most crucial parts of the kingdom," William said proudly.
Earl Nathaniel glared at the Viscount, and Baron Eamon Stirling closed his eyes and slowly sighed while folding his hands on the table. Rya couldn't help but pick up on the fact that most of the nobles sitting at the table seemed to have an adverse reaction to William's claim, with Eamon and Nathaniel having the most "visceral" reaction out of the group.
'Nice!... It's no surprise that Nathaniel doesn't like William, but I had hoped to win over Eamon. Now, let's sidetrack this meeting because of William's massive ego. I hope you're ready to watch one of your strongest allies lose all his leverage, Alaric.'
Rya's gaze drifted to William before settling on the intricate map at the center of the round table. The detailed carving depicted the Fiafyr Kingdom and its neighboring realms, bringing the territories to life. Her eyes fell upon the Viscount's domain, a slender stretch of land labeled the Silverhaven Coast Domain. It evoked thoughts of the country of Chile back on Earth, with its elongated shape stretching precariously across the map. However, Silverhaven Coast was far smaller and comparable in size to the state of Vermont. Rya frowned slightly, grappling with the challenge of visualizing the geography without her usual points of reference. Yet, at that moment, exact measurements and comparisons faded in importance. All that mattered was her hope that the two Barons would recognize the merit of her plan to disrupt William’s deep control over the Kingdom’s maritime trade.
Rya turned sharply to face the Viscount, her expression challenging. "I don’t see the appeal here. You boast about two port cities, yet I’ve heard they’re languishing in neglect. If those ports can’t even support the kingdom's trade, what else do you bring to the table? And let’s be honest—aren’t your farmers seething over those exorbitant tariffs just for the privilege of using your ports?"
“How dare you!” The Viscount sputtered, indignation spilling from his lips. “I am a Major Noble—”
“Earl Nathaniel,” Rya interjected smoothly, locking her gaze onto him. “What do you and your farmers actually pay for shipping your goods out of your lands?”
Nathaniel's lips curved into a knowing smile as he replied, “Trade with the northern kingdoms is beneficial… tariffs there hover around ten to fifteen percent. Yet here, we’re slapped with fifty to sixty percent just to access the Viscount’s ports.”
Duval, taken aback by the shift in the conversation, glanced around the room, desperate to regain control. He needed to steer the discussion back on track and dismiss the Dark Elf, preferably sooner rather than later. “William… How do you vo—”
“Baron Eamon?” Rya’s voice rang out, interrupting the Prime Minister. “I believe I heard from my fiance that you hold the title of Minister of Trade and Commerce.”
The nobleman lifted his gaze from the cluttered table, a skeptical eyebrow arching at the Dark Elf before him.
"I am... Why do you inquire?" he asked, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.
"What are the import costs flowing through William's ports? And what volume of goods and resources are coming in from the other kingdoms?" Rya pressed, her tone sharp yet measured.
"I’d need to scour the reports for that," he replied, exasperation seeping through. "But mark my words, the Viscount has a knack for renegotiating agreements right as the ships dock. We’re talking tariffs that can jump by thirty to forty percent overnight! It’s utterly maddening when he pulls these stunts. Not to mention there’s often a backlog of essential goods just waiting off the coast, all because he refuses to budge."
"That's absurd! I’m merely adjusting for the market!" William shot back, his tone sharp. "As the minister of trade, you should recognize that we must adapt! If we slash tariffs and taxes, how do you expect me to keep the ports running?"
"And if the market refuses to bend to your whims, you'll be left with a restless populace, yearning for goods they can't obtain," Rya countered, her patience wearing thin.
"Pfft! As if I care what the commoners think! They should just do their jobs—or return to the hovels they crawled out of."
Rya felt a wave of disdain wash over her; William’s sense of entitlement grated on her nerves. Yet she sensed that the conversation was veering precisely where she'd intended.
Duval shifted uneasily, sensing the tension in the air. He needed to get things back on track.
"That enough with the—"
“Whose territory is this?” Rya interrupted, her finger poised over a kingdom on the southeastern border of Fiafyr. It sprawled alongside the Azure Sea, its landmass comparable to one of Fiafyr's own Domains. The map beneath them teemed with details—roads, cities, and villages.
"That's a mistake of a kingdom that will be a part of the Alliance," Terenthiel hissed while glaring at Rya.
Lord Gawain interjected, his voice steady, “That’s the kingdom of Kartoll. A matriarchal society ruled by a powerful royal line of water mages—Queens, to be precise—who wield great strength.”
“Water witches, you mean,” Terenthiel snarled. "Women like them are delusional to think it's natural for them to rule... This world was meant for men to guide and lead..."
Rya couldn’t help but smile inwardly at his outburst. ‘Oh? They’ve struck a nerve with the Alliance? Well, this is a pleasant surprise... Things got a whole lot more interesting…’ She kept her focus firmly on Gawain, eager to unravel the implications of Terenthiel’s disdain.
"Do they have good relations with Fiafyr?"
Gawain nodded and said, "They have a peace treaty with us from when the Alliance formed all those years ago. Queen Nefer Aquarius the 5th is said to be as powerful as her late grandmother, who made the alliance with our great Kingdom. We would come to their aid if the Divine Three invaded their territory, and they would come to our aid if the Divine Three attacked ours."
"Their time is coming to an end... And they know it," Terenthiel said with a hint of anger in his voice.
Rya looked at the foreign Prince blankly. She couldn't wait to ruin his day.
'Well... I think it's time for us to strengthen our relationship with this kingdom... Now let's put a nail in the coffin for William...'
"Baron Eamon?... Have you ever tried to use the Kingdom of Kartoll's ports?" Rya asked.
Alaric, enshrouded in a heavy silence that felt like an eternity, locked his piercing gaze onto his nephew, Quinus. It was as if his eyes burned with an intense fire, ready to ignite under the weight of his frustration. His jaw was set tight, and a turbulent storm brewed in the depths of his stormy gray irises. But then, just as the tension reached its peak, he turned his attention to the Dark Elf. At that moment, the realization struck him like a lightning bolt—she was poised to harm one of his most invaluable sources of income. A surge of determination coursed through him; he had to intervene before it was too late.
"I grow weary of all this talk about tra—"
"No... I didn't see a point in using another Kingdom's ports when we have our own." Eamon said as if it was obvious why he didn't try to trade with them.
'Christ! He is the fucking Minister of Trade!... Duval must have given this dude the position for his support... That is cronyism at its finest... But I shouldn't complain too much... If Eamon was capable of thinking outside the box, then I would have been screwed... He just needs a little push in the right direction to see how to bring a bad-faith actor to their knees... And now it's time to fuck over William.'
Rya was ready to show her hand as she took a piece of parchment and a pen from Gawain.
Comments
PaulMichaels
Vol.4. It's in the Vol. 4 collection.
BTYR Reddagger
Is this vol 4 or 5?
PaulMichaels
I think your right. That's a mistake on my part. Thanks for the catch my friend. 👍
Athetos
Also, small correction, iirc didn't Rya tell Yuliana she was 27? Just noticed that she said 29 when I re-read the chapter.
Athetos
Love the idea of a country ruled by water witches. Thanks for the chapter.
