"You are indeed a prince. You have a chance of taking the throne, though it is unlikely," Edgar replied.
The middle-aged man re-sheathed his longsword, handing the sword to one of his guards.
He also removed the armour he was wearing with the two soldiers' help.
"We'll talk inside," Edgar requested.
Quentin nodded. He also sheathed his sword and walked away after Edgar.
Edgar's face looked very enthusiastic, a big smile spread clearly seeing Quentin had decided on his ambition.
Arabelle, Marcella, and Mary walked after the two men. The five walked up the stairs until they reached the third floor.
"You are my older sister's son, which means you are my nephew. Helferich will help you achieve your ambition," Edgar replied, willing to help his nephew.
Quentin's heart was relieved to hear those words come out of Edgar's mouth, but he had to remain wary because he didn't fully trust the Helferich lord.
"To take the throne, you must make a careful plan," Edgar replied.
The five people were already in Edgar's study, a room full of bookshelves that weren't dusty at all.
Arabelle and Marcella sat on the couch while Mary and Quentin sat on the chairs before Edgar's desk.
Because of the tiredness still felt in Edgar's body, the man started pouring wine into two cups: one for Quentin and one for him.
"This is the best wine in all of Lanercoast. You will love it, My Prince," Edgar replied, gulping down the drink in one swift gulp.
Quentin did the same, tasting the fresh wine with a sweet and slightly bitter flavour flowing down his throat. When Edgar was about to have a second pour, Quentin quickly closed the top of his glass.
"To make your plan easier, you should at least have an alliance," Edgar revealed.
"An alliance, huh?" asked Quentin.
"A permanent alliance. Your allies who are loyal to you will fight for the throne for you," Edgar explained.
Quentin was silent, the man's eyes glancing occasionally at his glass and Edgar, who still drank the wine. Arabelle and Marcella listened attentively to the conversation between their father and Prince Quentin.
"It wasn't easy. The last alliance I formed turned into a betrayal," Quentin lamented.
"Of course it was. If things were easy, King Otto wouldn't be bothered with the outbreak of civil war in the various lands of Athalaris," Edgar replied.
"After your mother's death, Helferich has no ties to Castlebourne. Lanercoast is truly an independent land, with our rich mines," Edgar stated.
The man laughed aloud, feeling happy and proud to find Helferich the only major house that did not bow to King Otto's rule for the time being.
Quentin admitted as much just a few months after their mother died. Cynical stares and disdainful remarks were always addressed to Prince Quentin and Princess Mary.
Now, Quentin was entirely out of Castlebourne. There would no longer be anyone who could threaten them.
"So, when did you start your plan?" asked Edgar, curious.
Quentin smiled widely, looking thoughtfully at his uncle, "Revenge is a dish that tastes best when served cold."
Edgar laughed, unable to guess Quentin's way of thinking. However, the middle-aged man believed Quentin must be doing something for Castlebourne.
The middle-aged man before Quentin was waiting for the following news to be delivered by Quentin. With nothing else to talk about, Quentin bid farewell to Edgar.
The young man stepped away, leaving Arabelle and Marcella with Edgar. Edgar's eyes began to turn sideways, looking at his daughters one after another.
"Have you considered Lord Jaelys' proposal?" Edgar asked Arabelle.
Arabelle shook her head, not refusing but not yet thinking about it. Lord Jaelys was the first son of House Anselm, the second largest house in Lanercoast.
"Is he not good-looking enough for you, Arabelle?" asked Edgar.
"I simply haven't had enough time to dwell on his proposal," Arabelle replied.
"And what about you, Marcella?" asked Edgar, turning to his youngest daughter.
Marcella shook her head. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about the proposal from Lord Ashel of House Murdheim, but she flatly refused the man's proposal.
"I refuse to marry a one-handed man like him," Marcella snapped, annoyed.
"His hand was crippled in the war against Castlebourne. You should be proud," Edgar retorted.
"Can he protect me when he's in such a condition? They should have cut off his hand and his cock, too," Marcella scolded, furious.
Arabelle, who usually acted gracefully, chuckled to see her sister getting frustrated when she said so. Edgar could only remain silent, leaning back on the chair he was sitting on as he sighed, confused by the Helferich family's successor.
"Why are you very confused? Don't you have Quentin to rise to Lord Calden Castle?" Marcella asked.
"I want you to rule it, not my nephew," Edgar retorted.
"We are women. There is no such thing as a woman ruling a house," Arabelle retorted.
"So what do you want me to do? Make him my successor?" asked Edgar, starting to get annoyed.
Arabelle and Marcella fell silent at that question. Irritated, Marcella stepped out without a word.
The door to the room opened roughly. Unexpectedly, Quentin was there as if waiting for someone.
Marcella looked at Quentin with a grumbling heart, then waltzed away rudely. Quentin stayed silent, his eyes continuing to stare at Marcella's leaving.
Arabelle tried to catch up, but the woman was again surprised by Quentin's presence in the third-floor hallway of Calden Castle.
Realizing the person he was waiting for came out of Edgar's study made Quentin hold back Arabelle's pace of departure, "Leave her alone."
"What do you mean? She's my sister. I need to calm—"
"I need to talk to you. Would you mind giving me a tour of the city?" asked Quentin, interrupting Arabelle's words.
Arabelle was silent, her head occasionally moving straight ahead and turning to the side to look at Quentin. One long breath was heard from her, and the beautiful woman said yes to Quentin's invitation.
The woman stepped away from Marcella, who seemed to be going upstairs, apparently back to her chambers. Arabelle stepped side by side with Quentin in the afternoon, walking out of Calden Castle.
Marcella, who was inside the chamber, saw from the window that Prince Quentin and her sister were talking to each other outside through the door in the east of the castle.
"I don't care about them."
The two walked on the city street made of stone paving blocks, making it easy to drive horses or carriages. On the right and left were rows of shops selling various goods: earrings, necklaces, accessories, swords, and even food such as bread.
However, most of the citizens visited the shops that sold groceries. Quentin could see the crowd from afar.
"I thought Lanercoast was a land full of mining sites, so it can't be that the crops are so abundant like this," Quentin retorted.
"We are indeed well-known for our mining districts, but in the northern lands of Calden Castle, there are large areas of farmland which can be used," Arabelle pointed out.
The citizens displayed and purchased not only vegetables and fruits but also fresh meat. People in Castlebourne often said that those in Lanercoast lived in poverty. However, what is seen is completely different.
They could buy several pounds of meat, vegetables, and fruits. It seemed that the wealth from additions made Helferich decrease taxes for everyone.
Quentin and Arabelle stopped their walk, standing right before the bakery that looked warm, delicious, and soft. The shopkeeper woman knew Arabelle but not Quentin.
"Lady Arabelle," greeted the middle-aged woman.
"Give me these two buns," Arabelle pleaded, pointing to two steaming pieces of bread that had just come out of the toaster.
Arabelle spent one silver for the two buns, even though they cost only four copper coins. Suddenly, it made the woman before Arabelle smile happily.
"You seem to be known by the crowd a lot, huh?" asked Quentin, stepping side by side with Arabelle.
The woman beside Quentin smiled, choosing not to respond to what Quentin had just asked.
They continued to walk on the city street, passing several shops that attracted Quentin's attention until they arrived at the top of the hill.
The hill was far from Calden Castle but had a nice view of the vast urban area below. It was a place she usually visited when she was sad.
"Take a seat. Didn't you want to talk to me?" asked Arabelle.
Quentin nodded. Sitting cross-legged on the grass with their eyes straight ahead. A pleasant atmosphere on both faces was accompanied by a lush tree full of leaves providing shade.
"I heard your conversation with Lord Edgar," Quentin replied.
"About Lord Jaelys? That's right. Father set me up with him," replied Arabelle.
"What do you think?" asked Quentin.
Arabelle was silent, then her eyes dropped to the paper wrapper that still had a loaf of bread in it, her own bread she hadn't had time to eat during the walk.
"Lord Jaelys is a good and responsible man. He is also from House Anselm, Helferich's ally," Arabelle replied.
"By marrying him, Helferich's position becomes even stronger as the leader of Lanercoast," Arabelle added.
"But you must leave Calden Castle and go live with Lord Jaelys," Quentin stated.
"It's inevitable."
There was no look of happiness on Arabelle's face at that. It was not the marriage she wanted.
"Marriage is just a political instrument to strengthen the power and influence of the ruler," Quentin explained.
Arabelle squinted, her head snapping to the side to stare intently at Quentin, "What do you mean?"
"I would like to marry you."