It takes a couple of moments of tense, thick silence before anyone dares to breathe again.
Out of the twelve most prominent nobles in the country, only a handful of them are truly at ease in today's meeting.
However, Viscount Cliden's audacious claims have put a damper on the already chilly atmosphere, making it downright hostile after the intense confrontation.
The current ambience in the meeting hall only sees the nobles sitting stiffly in their seats. Some of them secretly cast glances at the subdued spirit that the viscount exudes, hesitant to open their mouth lest they risk ending up like him.
Aspen watches in boredom as he waits for someone to break the tension in the room. He certainly isn't going to take the first step after the discourtesy he just endured.
Someone else can have the privilege of smoothing over the incident by bringing up their own opinion. He's had enough of pretending to be polite to a bunch of malicious, power-hungry heathens who have no regard for propriety.
A cough from the middle of the table takes the heavy attention away from Viscount Cliden, and Aspen tilts his head to check who it is.
Another person's hand has been raised, and much to Aspen's surprise, it is the face of a calm, determined man that greets him.
"If I may, Your Highness."
Aspen pauses for a moment, recognising the weary but dignified visage of Ignacia's father.
"Marquess Rencalle. To what do I owe the pleasure of your counsel today?"
Knowing the blood that runs in Ignacia, Aspen has long since concluded that her father is no pushover. This is hardly the first time they've seen each other in person, but Marquess Rencalle, who had retreated from the limelight of high society after his beloved wife's death, has never attempted to make direct contact with Aspen till today.
Aspen is wary of what he will say, because he knows that the marquess is not a man to be trifled with, as seen from his stout figure and commanding posture. But he is curious.
Everyone knows that Marquess Rencalle is a highly skilled businessman in the field of commerce. The house of Rencalle has their hand in everything. From food to furniture to electronics, they have expanded into various industries under the marquess' rule, and have only grown their enormous wealth in the past decades. Currently, they remain one of the most influential families in the country as far as money talks.
Aspen has always kept an eye on the marquess' activities to ensure that whatever he does won't come back to haunt his daughter, Ignacia. But he never was given reason to suspect that the marquess is an unscrupulous person.
So far, Marquess Rencalle has kept up his reclusive lifestyle for the past twenty years, leaving public affairs to his vassals and his eldest daughter, Ignacia. Usually, the council meetings go by without so much as a word spoken by him, so Aspen has little idea what could be making him speak up now.
Marquess Rencalle levels his gaze with Aspen's. The expression of seriousness on his face does a poor job of masking the permanently sorrowful look in his eyes.
"Your Highness, I believe that Viscount Cliden's point does bring up a separate concern that some of the council members might have."
"...And what concern might that be?" Aspen prompts, silently giving permission for him to continue.
"Despite Viscount Cliden's impertinence, it is true that you have never shown any interest in getting a partner, despite the many attempts of the noble houses to persuade you otherwise."
Aspen remains silent, because it is indeed the truth that he has turned away every opportunity to forge ties with powerful noble houses through an engagement.
It is a political move that is crucial to a throne candidate's chances of securing their position, as having a mate or spouse would assure both the imperial and noble factions that a candidate is capable of taking over the role of emperor. And Aspen's refusal to do so has only raised questions about his reputation and capability of being the country's next monarch.
"As a citizen of the country, I have seen firsthand what the lack of a mate will do to one's reputation in high society. If you do not have a mate when you receive the title of crown prince, it is not impossible for the public to question your worthiness as both a protector and future leader."
Marquess Rencalle's words must strike a cord in many of the noble's hearts.
Some nod and agree with him, while others sit silent, watching the scene unfold with interest.
Aspen struggles not to look towards the one who stands to his right. Despite his annoyance at having to address this issue, he understands the genuine concern behind Marquess Rencalle's words.
After all, it isn't as though anyone other than Aspen himself knows the true reason why he has remained single for his entire life.
He is simply waiting for the right time to announce his intention to pursue his beloved. And now is hardly that time.
Before making his move, he'll first have to suppress all of his most significant and dangerous opposers. The road to success has always been paved with numerous challenges that he has yet to come across. But none have felt nearly as frustrating and difficult as this one in the past ten years.
Aspen sighs internally, wrestling control back from his instincts as they fight to declare his beloved as his intended mate. He needs no other mate, and being questioned about his decision always makes him want to reveal the truth in a fit of impulsive irritation.
But he can't falter now. He's already anticipated a question like this.
"Marquess Rencalle, I understand your concerns, and why you believe that my lack of a mate could pose a problem in the future. However, I must ask you to understand me as well."
Aspen leans back in his chair, folding his hands neatly over his crossed leg as he readies his answer.
"I am sure some of you think of me as nothing but a cold-hearted and volatile tyrant. But there is one thing everyone has overlooked. And it is that I have, in actuality, been searching for a mate. Do you truly believe that I have not considered this advantage at all?"
Marquess Rencalle's eyebrows raise in surprise at his declaration, and many others follow suit in their displays of confusion.
Marquess Grisel, on the other hand, sits up straighter in his seat, a small crease between his eyebrows the only thing that gives away his interest.
"The reason I have been without a partner for so long is that none have met my standards or requirements so far. You see, I have an exceptionally difficult time trusting a complete stranger with access to myself, my subordinates and my time. I would much prefer someone with no ties to the petty squabbles of high society, and I certainly need them to be able to keep up with me, whether physically or mentally."
Of course, this could hardly be further from his actual preferences. In truth, Aspen couldn't care less about the credentials of his future mate.
All he needs is for that future mate to be Ignacia.
Beside him, Ignacia tightens her grip so much on her tablet that it creaks in protest.
Aspen tries to ignore her reaction to his words, but it takes great effort not to turn his head to check the look on her face. He wonders briefly what is running through her head for her to indicate such stress.
Deciding that he can leave that for later, he is about to continue his explanation when he smells it again. That hint of sweetness.
And it's coming from somewhere to his left.
This time, he can pick out just barely the smell of cinnamon.
He freezes for a second, pausing to sniff the air as subtly as he can to figure out its source. But the smell is gone once again before he can even trace it back to its owner.
With a frown, Aspen clicks his tongue quietly, and refocuses on the task at hand instead. He cannot afford to dwell too long on the strange way his nose has been working lately.
"In other words, I assure you all, once again, that I am diligently keeping a look out for any potential partners. I simply have yet to find someone who, in Viscount Cliden's words, meets the greatness of my lineage and my own expectations."
The nobles at the table hesitate to offer their understanding, looking pensive after his words. It isn't until Marquess Rencalle backs down from the subject with a curt nod of his head that the silence is broken.
"Very well, Your Highness. It gladdens me to know that you have been pondering this issue. Your perspective is very much understandable, and it is true that one should not be hasty when choosing a mate to rule the country with. I thank you for your patience in explaining your situation, and wish you the best in finding your future spouse."