The atmosphere within the Capital was abuzz with a mixture of rumors and truths, circulating throughout the kingdom. However, one topic seemed to dominate the conversations: the impending changes in the South.
Meanwhile, within the grand halls of the palace, the king sat upon his ornate throne, his hand wearily rubbing his temple. Before him stood the Chancellor, his most trusted advisor. But at that moment, the king desired nothing more than to unleash his fury upon this man.
"Speak, Augustus, and make it quick," the king's voice boomed, resonating with anger. The sheer force of his words caused the palace to tremble, and the knights standing nearby to collapse under the weight of his expanding aura. Even the servants nearby were on the verge of being overwhelmed. Yet, amidst the chaos, the Chancellor remained unaffected, his demeanor calm and composed.
The Chancellor maintained his composure, unfazed by the king's wrath. His voice carried a hint of serenity as he addressed the king, his words carefully chosen. "King Arthur, I bring tidings from the South. It appears that young Lucas, backed by what seems to be all nobles in the south, has devised a plan to establish a council of influential nobles."
The king's frustration was palpable, his anger reverberating through the air as he struck his throne with a resounding thud. "I do not care about the news you bring! I care about what you have been doing!" His voice thundered, laced with disappointment and anger. His piercing gaze could have incinerated the Chancellor a million times over.
"You promised me control, you promised me Lucas de Clare's demise years ago," the king seethed, his eyes burning with fury. "You assured me that cutting funding to the South would attract a demon invasion, yet none of it has come to pass!" The weight of his disappointment hung heavily in the air, filling the throne room with a tense atmosphere.
The Chancellor, composed and undeterred, met the king's gaze squarely. "I assure you, Your Majesty, that I have already devised a plan to address these unfortunate events," he replied with unwavering conviction. His voice carried a subtle undertone of reassurance, attempting to ease the king's mounting anger.
"I understand your frustrations, King Arthur," the Chancellor continued, his tone measured and calm. "But you must also look at the positives the east is completely under your control, the West is very much yours and you have the support of the strongest man in the kingdom possibly in the world"
The king's eyes narrowed, his fury gradually subsiding as he absorbed the Chancellor's words. The weight of positives became apparent upon him, and a flicker of realization passed through his eyes. Though still angered, he recognized the benefits of the Chancellor's plans.
"Very well, Chancellor," the king finally conceded, his tone softer but tinged with lingering frustration. "What do you suggest we do with Lucas de Clare?"
The Chancellor, with a calm and collected demeanor, retrieved a couple of files from under his robe and approached the throne, his steps measured and purposeful. He held the files in his hands, their weight symbolic of the weight of the decisions they contained.
"These are three potential plans, Your Majesty," the Chancellor began, extending the files towards the king. "The first plan involves marrying Lucas de Clare to the princess. However, we must acknowledge that he will likely reject such a proposal unless you offer him the position of crown prince. Yet, as you know, that position is already filled by your son."
The king's brows furrowed in confusion as he pondered the suggestion. "But couldn't a royal decree simply solve the problem of his rejection? Rejecting a royal decree is considered treason, after all," he suggested, seeing a seemingly simple solution.
The Chancellor, concealing a sigh, met the king's gaze, his expression tinged with a touch of weariness. "While a royal decree may appear to solve the issue on the surface, Your Majesty, it is not a foolproof solution. Even if Lucas de Clare were to marry within the royal family, it would not guarantee your control over him. He is cunning and resourceful, and he would undoubtedly find a way to manipulate your orders to his advantage. Granting him the title of prince would only serve to grant him more power and influence, a risk that may not be worth taking."
"You make a valid point," the king conceded, his voice reflecting a mix of contemplation and acknowledgment. "We must find a solution that curbs his ambitions while gaining control over the South. What are the other two plans?"
The Chancellor's lips curved into a small, knowing smile, appreciating the king's openness to consider alternative strategies. "Ah, yes, the second plan," he replied, his voice dripping with subtle intrigue. "In this plan, we would leverage the crown's economic power and resources to establish a carefully woven network of alliances. By indirectly limiting Lucas de Clare's influence, we can create a web of interdependencies that gradually erode his dominance."
He continued, his tone carrying an air of cunning calculation, "We shall strategically fund his competitors, thereby diverting attention and resources away from his ventures. Additionally, we can employ subtle persuasion techniques to dissuade merchants from carrying his products in regions beyond the South. A well-placed bribe here, a discreet word of advice there—these small actions can have a significant impact over time."
The Chancellor's gaze locked with the king's, their eyes engaged in a silent exchange of understanding. "Of course, it is unfortunate that we missed the opportunity to implement such measures within the South itself," he added, a tinge of regret lacing his words. "The nobles of the region have already fallen under Lucas de Clare's sway, making it more challenging to maneuver against him directly"
"And the third plan?" the king inquired, his curiosity piqued.
The Chancellor, his voice filled with a sense of intrigue, revealed the details of the clandestine third plan. "The third plan, Your Majesty, is a more subtle and long-term approach," he explained, his words laced with calculated confidence. "In this plan, we focus on grooming the next generation of the South, carefully selecting and nurturing individuals who align with our interests. Through secret funding and support, we can guide these chosen heirs to positions of power and influence, effectively undermining Lucas de Clare's authority over time."
A glimmer of satisfaction danced in the Chancellor's eyes as he continued, "In fact, this plan is already in motion. I have identified a promising candidate, a young man from the lower family of Silverglade. His name is Vince Moonli—-"
However, before the Chancellor could divulge further details about Vince Moonlight and the progress of this covert plan, a sudden wave of pain coursed through his being. His head throbbed with intensity, demanding his attention. In that instant, he realized that one of his subjects, Vince Moonlight, was in imminent danger, teetering on the brink of death.
Reacting swiftly, the Chancellor closed his eyes, his consciousness transporting itself from the throne room to another realm. When he opened his eyes, he found himself kneeling in a picturesque garden, the soft fragrance of blooming flowers permeating the air. The setting was serene and peaceful, a stark contrast to the urgency and gravity of his previous conversation with the king.
As the Chancellor tried to steady his breath, a feminine voice broke the tranquility of the garden. "Freaky," she exclaimed, her tone filled with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
His attention was drawn to a woman standing before him. She possessed luscious black hair that cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her eyes shimmered with a playful glint. However, his focus shifted abruptly as he noticed his palm, stained crimson with blood. The realization struck him with a jolt of nausea—the blood belonged to Vince Moonlight, and it indicated that he had been poisoned.
Desperate for answers, the Chancellor addressed the enigmatic woman before him. "Who are you?" he questioned, his voice tinged with urgency and a hint of desperation.
Ignoring his question, the woman simply smiled, her expression enigmatic. "He told me you would appear, yet it's still kinda freaky," she remarked, her words accompanied by a casual wave. "Well, it was nice knowing you, Chancellor."
Before the Chancellor could react or utter another word, a powerful surge of energy coursed through his body, propelling him back to his original realm, leaving the garden and the mysterious woman behind.
"What did you see, Augustus?" the king's voice reverberated through the room, cutting through the Chancellor's stunned state.
The Chancellor took a moment to compose himself, his thoughts still swirling from the encounter in the garden. Anger seeped into his voice as he responded, "Scratch Vince Moonlight—he has just died." The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, tinged with a mixture of frustration, curiosity, and a burning desire for answers.