"What is going on here?!" Morgan exclaimed.
"I was hungry," Tory slurred through a full mouthful of soup and bread. The woman lifted another spoonful and stroked the back of her head in a comforting manner.
The four of them sat around the table with platters of bread, butters, jams, a large pot of soup and pies. It was a lot of food for just four people but still a lot less extravagant than yesterday's meal, with the exception being the rolling tray of wines and liquors next to the king.
"Relax and have a seat," King Luvia said, "have some chicken pie while it's still hot."
"We don't eat meat," Morgan said while casting a bewildered side eye at the pies. He'd almost eaten one yesterday.
"How could you not eat meat? It's delicious!"
"We believe that consuming the flesh of another living and sentient creature is barbaric and harms the soul. And since we can't kill or harm, hunting is virtually impossible for us even if we wanted to eat meat. But more importantly, why is my sister here without me?" Morgan questioned.
Gwen cleared her throat and glared up at Morgan like he was just a mild inconvenience to be sorted out and forgotten. "Little Tory here came looking for food since she was hungry, so we allowed her to have breakfast with us. Is that a problem?"
"Yes it is," Morgan said bluntly. "I don't want you speaking or even looking at my sister while I'm not there. In fact, it would save me a lot of trouble if you stopped breathing while I'm not here, as well."
King Luvia and the woman both laughed but a sneer from the King's daughter cut his short. "Don't worry; I won't allow your sister to be influenced by my daughter's bad habits."
"You're drinking wine first thing in the morning," Morgan reminded him.
"Well, how else am I supposed to start the day off with a smile?"
"Breakfast is one thing," Morgan said ignoring the king, "but who is this woman and why is she feeding and touching my sister!?"
It would have been easier to accept if she was just a maid that Gwen or the King had asked to assist with Tory but she looked more like royalty than either of them. For one her complexion was a few shades darker than his own, and flawless at that, making it apparent that she wasn't in any form related to the pale skinned Korenthians, and contrasted beautifully from her red dress and her golden crown glittering with rubies and black gems.
She looked up at him and flashed pearly white teeth at him in a smile. "I was in the capital visiting a friend when Luvia told me he was hosting more than just the usual staunch bats. So I stopped by to see the famed sea smiths for myself and this little treasured wondered in on her own."
"I don't care. Get your hands off of her before you lose them."
The woman lifted her hands away from Tory and held them up in mock surrender. "You make quite a lot of threats for someone sworn to peace."
"Isn't your daughter around the same age?" King Luvia inquired with an embarrassed smile.
"Yes she is. I haven't seen her in months. Last I saw of her, she was still obsessed with the playroom we had made for her. We brought in the finest painters, wood carvers and toymakers across the islands to make it. Then we brought in the greatest locksmiths and architects to make it the safest. It's the most secure room to ever be built, not even we could get in without the locksmith's help!" she boasted.
"Morgan, this is Queen Vanessa Valken, the ruby of Volhorn, one of the greatest sovereign nations north of the Knife Isles,"
She smiled graciously, lapping up the compliment until King Luvia added: "And one of the greatest supporters of the war between the Harcovians and the Sylvian Dynasty." Then Morgan began to understand why she was here.
"Supporter is a strong word. We just allow their supply chains to pass through our land."
"And add some of your supplies to their own for extra gold. They've been relying on your kingdom's supplies for over a decade now to continue fighting."
"Luvia, my dear friend, I'd urge you not to make me look so bad in front of our little sea smith friends. Not all of our reputations can take beatings like yours has. I can't imagine being branded a heathen and surviving the socio-political ousting like you have."
"You're right. You wouldn't survive it because everyone already hates you." King Luvia jabbed. Then the old king and the foreign queen broke into roaring laughter that echoed throughout the banquet hall.
"All jokes aside, I'm being serious, Vanessa. The war has to stop. You can turn just as much if not more profit in peace."
"Oh, you are being serious," Vanessa frowned. "And how exactly will we profit from peace? Are you planning to sell the weapons these children make?"
"No they are here because I'm working on trade negotiations with the tribes. Think about it Vanessa. When it pans out magical items, medicines and everything in between will be sold into the kingdoms like ours, to dull men like you and I. If you assist me in forcing the Harcovians to abandon the war, then Volhorn can become the home of that trade north of the Knife Isles."
"The very same plan you had with the Onyx tribe? That did end profitably, but not before your wife died and tens of thousands of people followed."
Morgan looked at the King. He didn't know that their deal was the very same one that was made with the Onyx tribe before their eventual extinction.
"That was an accident and this is different. Morgan and I have a deal already and I'll use that as a foundation to begin negotiations with the other tribes and as proof to the other Common Kingdoms that this will work."
"The Harcovians are fickle and vengeful people. They could annihilate us and raze our land if we cut them off. Why should I take that risk? My country is already profiting in a way that doesn't cost any lives and we're making more than enough from the ores in Onyxia."
Morgan couldn't believe what he just heard. "You are mining ores from Onyxia?"
"You haven't told them?" Vanessa asked with a snide grin before turning to Morgan. "They've been doing it since the end of the war, years before they even let us get anything. Where do you think all these rare stones embellishing this castle came from and how he paid off his kingdom's debts from the war?"
"I simply didn't have the chance to tell them yet, but I am glad you brought it up first. If you refuse to stop doing business with the Harcovians then you won't be allowed to mine anything more from there."
"We bought those mining rights, you can't revoke it!" she laughed.
"Volhorn didn't buy ownership of any part of the mines. If I remember correctly, your kingdom was too poor at the time to afford it. So we settled on a contract that is renewed annually and conditional on my approval. If you don't give me your full cooperation then I'm afraid I can't approve of Volhorn's mining on Onyxia."
"Are you out of your mind!?" the Queen said slamming her hands into the table, shaking the platters. Tory flinched and then leaned away from her. Morgan chose then to approach and retrieve his little sister.
"I'm so sorry, dear child," she said as Tory took Morgan's hand. "It's for the best that you go for now. I need to have some words with Luvia that should stay out of your vocabulary for at least another decade."
It was obvious now that King Luvia had been prepared for this moment and it showed his composure. He was still as relaxed as before but now it manifested in a level-headed calm. "Gwen, show them to the Foundry and get them acquainted like we discussed earlier. I'll join you later. And be sure to pass by the tailors on the way."
The three of them left the table and walked towards the heavy stone doors adorned with gems. When they had passed through the doorway the guards stationed there began closing the doors behind them. The last thing Morgan heard was: "When my husband hears about this he'll have you by th-,"
Morgan and Tory had spent much longer with the castle's tailors than just passing by would have implied. After being measured, both of them had spent what felt like an entirety with tailors putting fabrics of a thousand different colors against their skin and faces and trying to decide what looked best on them. The entire ordeal must have lasted three hours and in the end Morgan left wearing a blue tunic with a black trim along the neck and edge of the sleeves and brown pants and for Tory, a plain cream dress. Both of them with were instructed to return in a day or two and neither of them felt too inclined to.
"Earlier this morning," Tory said as they walked toward the eastern wing of the castle, "King Luvia said he wouldn't announce that we're here just yet, but we met like a hundred people yesterday. Won't they just tell other people?"
"No they won't. Every single person in or who visits is sworn to an implied oath of secrecy concerning everything that occurs in this castle." Gwen said.
"An implied oath doesn't sound very binding," Morgan said. "Not on the level that we are, at least."
"Few, if any oaths will ever be as severe or rigged as yours. However, In the event that they do betray that trust they are immediately banished from our kingdom and forbidden to work or conduct business in any of the Common Kingdoms on this side of the isles. If you help them or even talk to them, you can face similar punishment."
"So then how would they earn any money or talk to their friends and family?"
"They don't. Selling a king's secrets is essentially a suicidal act. A complete means of self-destruction that sets you on a hard and lonely path to death, that blade or blunt objects just can't capture."
"That seems a bit cruel," Tory muttered with a frown.
"It is a necessary cruelty, little one. If secrets freely left our castle without any threat or price to pay then our enemies would have our heads in a week."
"How would you even know if someone told one of your secrets?" Morgan asked.
"Let's just say that the kingdom's walls listen where the King's ears can't. Anyway, we're here." Gwen said as they stepped into a new room. "Welcome to the King's Foundry."
Because of its sheer size, Morgan couldn't help but feel it was inaccurate to refer to the Foundry as just a room, even if it actually was. For one it was bell-shaped or almost like a bird cage. It was cylindrical in shape, with curved walls without edges and a roof so high up that the top seemed to shrink due to distance.
On the ground floor with them was something like a traditional refinery. Heaps of common ores and quite a few that Morgan had only heard of sat in storage bins around the workshop while molten ore was being poured out of massive iron buckets into casts and other, larger containers.
Even so, the most surprising thing was the people standing on stone shelves jutting out of the walls. They were cut from white marble and curved with the room with a pulley system at three points, connecting each floor below to the ones above all the way to the ground. Gwen and the King had called it a Foundry, but there were at least ten of the stone 'floor's from the ground to the roof where men and women were conducting countless different experiments on raw and refined ore, all visible through the open space left in the centre of the room.
"Why exactly are we here?" Morgan asked as they gradually caught the attention of everyone there.
"The King has asked that you share a bit of your knowledge concerning the ores that these blacksmiths have been working on and help them improve where they can. It will go a longer way than just a weapon or two in showing a willingness to work together, and the long term benefit of working with the tribes overall."
Morgan wasn't exactly excited about helping a potential enemy, but if he wanted to appear like he was honoring his side of the deal, he had no choice but to.
"I won't be making any weapons for him until we've sorted out the details of the deal and I hear what he has planned," Morgan reaffirmed.
"Yes, my father understands that and has no intentions of forcing you before then. He needs at least two days to talk with his advisors and work out the exact details of the plan and some personal business of his own. In the meanwhile, he said that you're free to experiment with any of the ores here and craft whatever you like."
Morgan nodded and tried his best not to smile.
"With the exception of weapons," Gwen added as she observed Morgan. "As for me, this is goodbye for a while as well. I have other important duties to attend to as the Mantle so my cousin will be the one getting the two of you acclimated from now on. Oh, there she is." she said looking at a girl arguing with an older man. "Cassidy, get over here!"
Gwen's cousin was almost identical to her except, Cassidy looked to be around Morgan's age and they presented themselves in completely different ways. Cassidy had the same golden brown hair but hers was braided behind her back. She had the same discerning look that observed Morgan as she approached, but he didn't see the degradation behind it, accompanied by the fact that her eyes were bright green whilst the Mantle's were hazel.
"A pleasure to meet the siblings that everyone has been talking about. My name is Cassidy Grey," she said as she extended a hand.
Morgan wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he almost sure he heard Gwen swear under her breath. "Nice to meet you," Morgan said as they shook hands.
"And you," Cassidy said as she glared up at her older cousin, "Couldn't you see that I was in the middle of an argument or is your head full of rocks?"