While Pendralis's factories continued producing weapons and equipment at full speed for the war effort and soldiers rigorously planned the campaign, the public was growing increasingly aware of the situation. Thanks to steam-powered printing presses, newspapers were now reaching hundreds of thousands of people, and the nation's improved education system had drastically increased literacy rates. This meant that news of the Maraz Strait crisis spread rapidly, fueling nationalist sentiments across the kingdom. As public support for the war surged to unprecedented levels, Pendralis was preparing at an astonishing pace.
Meanwhile, Aragon had already begun its own war preparations. King Juan, determined to assess the current state of readiness and develop a strategy for the upcoming conflict with Pendralis, summoned his lords, ministers, and generals to a meeting in the capital city of Ardenzia.
Inside the grand throne room, the most powerful figures of the kingdom had gathered. Noble lords from across the realm stood in elegant but imposing armor, high-ranking generals observed maps and reports, and ministers conversed in hushed tones. Soon, the doors to the throne room swung open with a heavy creak, and the armored guards stationed at the entrance stepped aside. The chamber fell silent as all eyes turned toward the doorway. One of the guards raised his voice to announce the arrival of the king. "His Majesty, King Juan Sánchez of Aragon!" he proclaimed.
King Juan strode confidently into the chamber, making his way toward the throne at the far end of the hall. As he walked, the gathered nobles and officials parted to form a path, bowing their heads in a gesture of respect. When he reached the throne, he turned to face the assembly, his expression stern. "Our kingdom stands on the precipice of war," he began. "As you all know, Pendralis has declared war on us, citing the increased tolls at the Maraz Strait and attacks on their ships by so-called 'Aragonese-backed' pirates as their justification. But let us be clear: the Maraz Strait is our sovereign territory. We have every right to set tolls as we see fit. We even provided some protection for their trade ships, yet they deemed it insufficient. Now, they seek war."
The king's voice grew louder. "If war is what they want, then we shall give them war!" His declaration was met with a chorus of cheers and shouts of agreement from the gathered lords and generals. "They want a fight? Let them come! They will regret setting foot in our lands!" echoed throughout the chamber.
As the commotion settled, King Juan continued. "Today, we will assess our war preparations and finalize our strategy. General Carlos, report on our military readiness."
General Carlos, a seasoned and battle-hardened commander, stepped forward. "Your Majesty, if Pendralis seeks to seize the Maraz Strait, they must conduct a naval invasion. We have already deployed our fleet to fortify the strait's entrance. The existing coastal fortifications have been reinforced, and we have stationed an additional thousand soldiers at the stronghold overlooking the sea. Should the Pendralian navy breach our defenses, we must be prepared to intercept them on land. To that end, we have gathered an army of 30,000 men here in the capital. They will march to the Maraz Strait in the spring. This is the maximum force we can mobilize without leaving our borders vulnerable."
King Juan nodded thoughtfully. "And what of arms production?"
Carlos responded promptly. "Our royal forges, along with additional blacksmiths funded by emergency war taxes, are working day and night. By spring, every soldier in the army will be equipped with swords and spears."
In truth, King Juan had been funding the war effort using wealth accumulated from the Maraz Strait tolls and pirate raids. His goal was not territorial expansion but rather financial gain—ransoming captured Pendralian nobles for hefty sums and demanding war reparations after their inevitable surrender. Given Pendralis's recent economic prosperity, he had no doubt they could afford it. And once the war was won, he intended to keep trade tolls high, ensuring that Pendralis would struggle to recover for years.
He then turned to his envoys, who had recently returned from diplomatic missions to neighboring kingdoms. "What news from our allies?" he inquired.
One of the envoys stepped forward. "Your Majesty, our negotiations with the Frankian Kingdom and the Romanos Kingdom of the White Sea have been successful. Both nations believe Aragon is favored to win, and they do not wish to see a new dominant trading power emerge in the region. They have assured us of their neutrality in the coming war."
King Juan smirked. "Excellent. If Pendralis had managed to secure allies, this war could have been much more difficult for us. But now we know—they stand alone."
With confirmation that Pendralis would fight without external support, the Aragonese court was filled with confidence. The discussion then shifted to the division of command among the noble houses. Each lord sought greater authority in the upcoming campaign, knowing that more prestige in battle would mean a larger share of post-war compensation. A heated debate erupted over who would lead key divisions, as the feudal nature of Aragon's military meant that individual lords often acted independently, sometimes undermining overall strategy for personal glory.
Unlike the modernized, centralized military structure of Pendralis, Aragon's forces retained all the weaknesses of a feudal army. Nevertheless, after a long discussion, positions were finally assigned. While some lords were satisfied with their commands, others harbored resentment. However, the promise of loot and battlefield honor placated them—for now.
After further strategic discussions, King Juan concluded the meeting and ordered a grand banquet to be held for the assembled lords. That evening, the halls of the royal palace were filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets. As the nobles feasted and drank, the atmosphere became increasingly rowdy. Soon, many were drunkenly boasting of their upcoming victories over Pendralis.
Seated at a private table, King Juan indulged in the revelry. When his goblet ran dry, a servant stepped forward to refill it, but the jug of wine was empty. The servant excused herself to fetch another from the palace's wine cellar.
As she walked through the corridors, past the armored sentries standing at their posts, she reached the entrance to the cellar. The guard stationed there granted her access but warned, "Be quick."
"Understood," the servant replied before stepping inside. She quickly filled a pitcher with wine, then looked around for the merchant. However, he was nowhere in sight. She wandered deeper into the cellar, weaving through rows of wooden barrels.
Just as she reached the back of the room, she turned to leave—only to come face-to-face with a man standing in the shadows. She gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the pitcher.
Before it could hit the ground, the man caught it with swift precision. "Did I startle you, Isabel?" he asked with a sly grin.
Isabel sighed. "James, even in a moment like this, you still joke."
James chuckled, then gently pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. After a long embrace, he pulled back, gazing into her eyes. "Tell me about the banquet."
Isabel smiled and whispered all that had transpired that evening—who had been given command, how many troops had been gathered, and which lords were displeased with their assignments.
When she had finished, James reached into his coat and produced a pouch of gold, placing it in her hand. Isabel grasped it, but as she did, James pulled her close once more, stealing one final kiss. "You should leave now, before you're missed."
With a nod, Isabel tucked the pouch into her garments and hurried back upstairs.
As Isabel left the wine cellar, James waited a few moments before making his own exit. He moved carefully, ensuring that no one was paying attention as he slipped through the corridors of the palace. Reaching the grand hall, where the banquet was still in full swing, he saw nobles drinking, singing, and boasting about the inevitable defeat of Pendralis. Their confidence was almost amusing, but James knew better than to let his own emotions cloud his judgment.
Exiting the palace, he made his way through the dimly lit streets of Ardenzia, navigating through alleys and side roads to avoid unnecessary attention. Finally, he arrived at a small, unassuming inn on the outskirts of the city. This was his safe house, where he had been staying under the guise of a traveling wine merchant. Entering his room, he locked the door behind him and retrieved a sheet of parchment from his belongings. Dipping his quill into ink, he began to transcribe the information he had gathered from Isabel, ensuring that every detail of the war council meeting was documented in a cipher only Pendralis intelligence officers could decode.
He wrote of Aragon's planned military formations, the lords who held command, the estimated troop numbers, and the strategies being considered. He detailed the internal disputes among the noblemen, the fragile alliances, and the potential weaknesses in Aragon's feudal command structure. Additionally, he noted how King Juan intended to use captured Pendralis nobles as ransom, rather than focusing on territorial conquest. This intelligence would be crucial in helping Arthur and the Pendralis high command prepare for the war ahead.
Once finished, James carefully folded the parchment, sealing it with an inconspicuous wax stamp. At dawn, he left the inn and made his way to the trade district, where a caravan bound for the Franki Kingdom was preparing for departure. Disguised as a simple merchant, he approached the caravan master and negotiated the sale of his remaining wine barrels at a discounted price. As the trade was finalized, James subtly slipped the sealed letter into the hands of one of the trusted couriers—an undercover Pendralis agent who would ensure the message reached its destination.
"Deliver this with utmost discretion," James whispered, meeting the courier's gaze with a knowing look. The courier gave a slight nod before tucking the letter beneath his cloak. The caravan soon departed, carrying with it not only goods but also a crucial piece of intelligence that could turn the tide of war.
James watched until the caravan disappeared into the distance before vanishing into the crowd. His mission in Ardenzia was not yet over—there was still more to uncover, and as long as he remained undetected, Pendralis would have eyes and ears within the heart of enemy territory.