B9 - Chapter 8: The Banquet III

The silence brought about by the unexpected offer did not last. Once the first shock wore off, questions quickly followed.

Loyd Cairnwyc was the first to speak.

“Your Majesty is naturally aware that most of us here do not represent only ourselves, but the houses behind us. So, let me ask you directly: may we appoint stewards to such territories?”

Miriel turned toward him smoothly. “You may, provided the appointed steward is recognized by the crown and resides within the granted land.”

The Valour factions exchanged glances.

Bloodletter, Cairnwyc, and Ossyrian had all contributed significantly to the war effort. Two of them had laid siege to one of the great forts each, while the last had infiltrated the inner region. Their merits would likely be substantial.

A man standing in the middle of the Bloodletter family delegation, whom Leo suspected to be Krazal Bloodletter, followed up immediately. “Can such rights be inherited?”

“Depending on the class of the territory and the merits invested, hereditary rights may be granted.”

“What of their duties?” an Ossyrian man grunted.

The three lords were in perfect sync. It almost seemed as if the Valorians had already expected such an offer to be made. They certainly seemed well prepared.

It had to be Cairnwyc’s doing. His Flesh Mages had returned to the capital ahead of time precisely to ferret out such information.

“All subjects of Rukia will be responsible for local defense,” the queen answered. “Naturally, the crown will also retain the right to summon aid in times of national crisis.”

Leo’s brow furrowed.

Local defense and military mobilization.

It did not sound like much. Those were the basic duties of any noble subject. But in this case, the proposition felt different. Rukia’s forces were depleted, and most of their high-level combat assets were dead or missing.

Even to him, the queen’s aims were transparent.

Rukia did not even have the strength to maintain its territory without outside help. As for military might, that was even more out of the question.

But by offering land to the meritorious parties, she could hit two birds with one stone.

No. Wasn’t it actually three?

She would repay their merits without emptying the treasury, place strong hands over lands the crown could no longer protect alone, and bind powerful factions to Rukia’s survival through their own self-interest.

The best part was that it was an open scheme. Everyone knew what the queen was doing; heck, even he had figured it out in an instant. But that was exactly what made it so brilliant.

Despite knowing what she was after, nobody would refuse.

The offer was simply too tempting.

The way Leo looked at the young queen changed.

This woman did not only look the part, but she also had the skills to back it up.

Karas Skarn was the next to speak. “Could civilians attached to a company settle under such a grant?”

The queen’s expression softened.

“Those who fought for Rukia should not be forced to remain wanderers if they seek a roof, a field, and a future.”

Karas fell silent, his expression thoughtful.

Leo could guess what the man was thinking. He had learned a little about the Unending Brigade during their time together. From what he understood, they hailed from Invocatia but did not have strong ties to any noble house there.

For those in the know, his question was as good as stating his intention to migrate. This would not only mean the addition of a strong fighting forece for Rukia, but also guarantee that their families would settle here.

A man who could be nobody but the Archdruid Odyr spoke next. “Is it possible to pick completely undeveloped regions as rewards?”

The queen nodded. “Rukia has lost many of the hands that once tended her forests. Those willing to restore such lands will find the crown generous.”

The massive man’s eyes glinted, but he did not say anything else.

He did not need to. Everyone knew where the druids hailed from. The jungle of Irroch was known to be an unforgiving cesspool of the most monstrous creatures known to man. Compared to that, the Rukian forests would likely feel like a spa day.

***

From there, the situation developed exactly as Leo predicted. Nobody could resist the temptation of land and title, not when it was offered so freely and without major restrictions.

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There was a tense moment when the two Korrovan lords inquired about their right to keep their slaves, but when the queen assured them that she would uphold their property rights, even they seemed satisfied.

And just as it seemed as if the excitement could not climb any higher, a voice spoke out as if to pour cold water over it.

“...Don’t you find this arrangement a little unfair, Your Majesty?” Silas Dorn smiled as he spoke, though there was nothing pleasant in it.

Many gazes shifted between him and the queen, trying to puzzle out what this was about.

“Unfair in what sense, Lord Dorn?” the queen replied smoothly.

Silas swept his eyes over the room. For some reason, his gaze stopped on Zeke, as if he expected him to speak up as well. When the latter remained silent even after some time had passed, Silas continued on his own.

“You know perfectly well what I am referring to, Your Majesty,” he said. “Or are you going to tell me you have overlooked the fact that there are those among us who are unable to accept your offer?”

The queen did not answer right away. But her silence said more than words could.

“We,” he continued, drawing out the word, “have bled just as much as everyone else here today. But somehow, it has turned out like this. Is it because our number has been reduced that you no longer hold us in regard?”

He gestured toward the portrait of the missing commander, Marek Volst, as he spoke. This was not some harmless protest anymore; it had become a blatant accusation.

The queen finally broke her silence. “Are you perhaps referring to the neutrality clause imposed by Tradespire?”

“So you are aware of it,” Silas said. “Then, you are naturally also aware that neither I, Marek, nor Lord von Hohenheim will be allowed to accept your offer of land and title.”

Leo felt as if he had been electrocuted. Up until this point, he had watched the debate with the mindset of an onlooker. But the moment Silas brought up Tradespire’s neutrality clause, that changed.

Everything became clear in an instant. The reason the queen had split Zeke’s merits had not been to exclude him, but to give his retainers the ability to take advantage of her offer.

Unlike him, they were not bound by the same agreement of neutrality. Though it might hurt Zeke personally, it was also an opportunity. The queen had decided to dance on a knife’s edge, mixing insult and flattery so thoroughly that it was hard to determine what her true motives were.

Leo’s gaze went to Zeke.

His brother sat still, his expression just as relaxed as it had been the entire evening. Not a ripple appeared in his facade.

Had he already known? Had he predicted even this?

Silas also stared at Zeke. And with every moment that passed in silence, he seemed to grow more and more annoyed. Finally, he could not take it anymore.

“Lord von Hohenheim,” he said eventually. “For how much longer do you plan to hold your silence?”

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath. Even the queen, who had been the very picture of calm throughout the evening, seemed to tense.

But before Zeke could say a single word, the sound of a chair falling to the floor rang out.

All eyes turned to the source.

It was Vulcanos. He had sprung to his feet, glaring at everyone in the hall as if they were mortal enemies.

No words were necessary. The gesture revealed his stance more clearly than even a sworn oath could have.

David, Raileh, and Zelkara, who had been escorted to the same table as Zeke, slowly got to their feet as well.

The next to rise were Elder Tiger and Elder Dragon. They had eaten the table clean, not even leaving the bones. Now, they rose as if it were only natural.

Rhea also rose, followed by a sighing Cassius.

Even Irisen, who had been placed so close to the queen that she could almost be called her right hand, slowly got to her feet.

Leo suddenly found himself standing. He didn’t even know when it had happened.

The act of so many powerhouses getting up added a volatile edge to the already tense situation. It was almost as if they had declared that if Zeke was not satisfied, neither would they be.

The hall fell as quiet as a graveyard. The only sound that could be heard was the soft tapping of fingers against wood.

Tap. Tap. Taaap.

And then, Zeke’s fingers stilled.

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He did not rise. He merely looked at the queen in silence. She hid it well, but Leo could see the struggle. The fight to remain calm when every part of her body protested the act. The slight beading of sweat on her forehead that even her expensive powders could not hide.

All her little schemes, the merits, the seat assignments, the quiet pressure, had come back to bite her.

Suddenly, Leo understood. The stories had been true after all. That queen, that dignified queen with a will of iron and a mind as sharp as a blade, had been reduced to tears by his brother. Not because of her weakness, but because of how monstrous his brother was.

Even here today, Leo could not point out a single mistake she had made. Her arrangements were meticulous, her words carefully considered, her execution without flaw.

And yet, she now found herself in a tight spot. There was only a single reason for it. Her goals had not aligned with Zeke’s. That was it. That was her only sin. And yet, in this moment, it seemed as if that single oversight might be enough to break her neck.

Then, Zeke moved.

Without a single sign of urgency, he gently pushed his chair back and rose from his seat. He used the napkin that had been laid across his legs to clean the corners of his mouth, then placed it next to his plate.

Only then did he speak.

“I take no issue with the allocation of rewards, Lord Dorn."

His words were not directed at the queen, but at Silas Dorn, who seemed to have been filled with glee ever since it had started to look like Zeke’s retainers were about to cause a scene.

The meaning was clear. It was a warning not to use him as a weapon to threaten others, unless he was prepared to be cut.

The man’s expression soured immediately.

But Zeke did not care. After speaking that single sentence, he ignored him completely. Instead, his gaze went to the queen. Leo could see the slight upturn at the corners of his brother’s mouth when he looked at her.

“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head lightly as he spoke. “I have heard your offer. As for the reward I choose, I will inform you during tomorrow’s bestowal ceremony.”

Nobody spoke, but many eyes seemed to hold the same question.

Are you really okay with this?

If it had been them, they would have certainly used this chance to carve a larger piece of flesh from the queen.

Zeke simply smiled at those gazes. “It has been a pleasure, all of you. But the night grows late, and I have matters that demand my attention.”

Then, he turned and left.

Nobody moved, and only after the door closed behind him did the room finally regain its life. As if everyone had just remembered how to breathe, deep exhales sounded from everywhere. The queen, more than anyone else, seemed as if she had survived a life-or-death crisis.

Zeke’s retainers, who had remained in the hall at his silent urging, sat down one by one.

But Leo’s gaze remained fixed on the door. He tried to figure out what his brother might be thinking. Zeke seemed to have quietly assented to the queen’s scheme, but a part of him refused to believe things were that simple.

In all his life, Leo had never seen Zeke take a loss and accept it quietly. To him, that silent withdrawal didn't feel like surrender. Instead, it felt like the quiet before a storm.

Surprisingly, Leo found himself looking forward to it. He wanted to see just who would be left standing once that natural disaster named Ezekiel von Hohenheim truly struck.