Chapter 15:
The Barrister From Beyond
“Now, your majesty,” an old woman clad in what I recognized to be northern robes and headgear spoke up from the far right of the long table, “our people have not yet had the time to recover; these taxes would mean we would slow the rebuilding process for years to come.”
Fredreich, who had been casually sipping his wine, glanced over in their direction for a moment before looking back into his golden goblet again. “Seasons have passed, kings have fallen, and you are here to tell me Eisenfurt still limps behind? Curious.”
An old man next to her, much shorter but in similar attire, cried out, “The city did get the worst of it during the war during your father’s reign, your majesty, and we still have a lot—”
“Lady Mathilda,” Fredreich’s voice slid like a blade through the man’s words, “had just purchased a manor in Feldheim, is that not true?”
A hush fell over the table as all eyes were now fixed on the two representatives, who cast nervous glances at each other. Fredreich continued watching them; in his eyes, a glimmer that made it seem as if he enjoyed every second of this tense atmosphere.
“Yes, your majesty,” the woman bowed her head slightly. “That much is true.”
“Pray tell, how much did such a purchase cost her?” he swirled the goblet in his hand, turning his gaze into the wine within.
“We’re not sure, your majesty,” the old man’s voice rasped, his hands trembling in his lap.
“Approximately 100 Krones,” he stated, putting his cup down. “Enough to feed half of my forces stationed in the city for a month.”
Fredreich stood up, walking towards one of the servants standing on the far right of the room next to the entrance, taking a piece of parchment from him.
“Your majesty,” he read out the parchment in a loud voice as he walked back to his seat at the head of the table, “‘I have been paying for the construction of the city out of my own pocket and have no personal expenses left to spare for myself,’” his lips curled upwards as he read this part out, “‘therefore, we request that some money be sent from Kaisergrad to help fortify the city from demonic incursions.’”
He paused, taking a seat as he grinned at the diplomats, who had their heads sunk low, their lips almost quivering as the rest of the table tried looking away from the unfolding scene.
“I am not asking you to burden your people,” he said, throwing the parchment onto the floor behind him. A servant came running to collect it while Fredreich swung his feet onto the table. “But Lady Mathilda has been exploiting Mittengrad’s generosity for far too long.”
“We understand, your majesty,” the woman spoke, her words barely above an audible whisper.
He looked around the room, his eyes almost skipping both myself and Amber entirely. “Now, does anyone have any concerns about the new taxes?”
Amber clenched my hand underneath the table, but before I could even process what she intended, she spoke out, her voice confident and strong.
“Yes, your majesty.”
Fredreich’s mouth dropped ever-so-slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed, with hushed gasps coming our way from around the table.
“What do the representatives of Luxion have to say about the new taxes?” Fredreich spoke, lowering his feet and placing a hand on his face, inspecting the both of us closely.
“Your majesty, as you know, Luxion has brought in traders from the Kingdom of Hyra and Kreigsdale as well as other nations for centuries now, and it continues to bring in traders into Mittengrad,” Amber continued, her voice calm, yet loud enough for everyone at the table to hear. “Luxion expands along the coastline even to this day as people from all over the Kingdom come to the city in hopes of establishing their business; for a better life.”
Fredreich watched intensely as the other diplomats and nobles in the room reacted in silent nods and hushed murmurs. I found myself taken aback by Amber’s sudden, assertive confidence, but a hint of pride greeted my face in the form of a sly smile.
“So, Lady Ambrose, is that what you propose? That Luxion be spared while the rest of the realm bears the weight?” Fredreich spoke out, his voice low and challenging.
Amber hesitated for a second, but she had already done more than enough, as I cleared my throat to speak.
“Your majesty,” I said, leaning forward, capturing the room's attention. “The wood we sit on comes from the great forest. The wine you hold comes from Hyra.” I gestured to his goblet. “Excessive taxes will not simply burden Luxion. They will choke the very artery through which Mittengrad breathes.” The murmurs of approval swelled, and for the first time, I met Fredreich’s eyes without dread. “If Luxion suffers, the whole of Mittengrad suffers tenfold. The city is the nation’s lifeblood, not merely another district to be bled dry.”
“Then tell me, what would you have me do?” Fredreich took a sip of his wine, his eyes still staring into mine, challenging me to state my true intentions.
I paused for a second and took a deep breath, knowing that my words might alter the course of this conversation for better or for worse. However, Amber’s confidence and the apparent approval of my fellow diplomats led me to believe I had the upper hand in this discourse, so I pushed myself forward.
“If we are to support these taxes, your majesty, we must first understand what they are meant to achieve,” I stated, injecting a note of reason and transparency into the greed-filled room. I knew his quest for vengeance, and I was aware of his ambitions, but I also knew that these people who surrounded the table were individuals who had seen the horrors of war and the devastating aftermath that came with it. I had to appeal to their fear, not their pocketbooks.
“We have reports that Ur has been encroaching on our territory near the foot of the Blutklamm range,” Fredreich announced, cutting straight to the point and offering the reason I knew he would use.
Gasps emerged from the left and right, and murmurs increased. Fredreich gestured for a servant to fill his goblet as he stared into my eyes with a slight, knowing grin spread across his face.
“Those damned demons,” a pompous man with a feathered hat from my right cried out, slamming his fleshy fingers onto the desk. “Always causing trouble.”
The murmurs around the table now increased, some even throwing slurs around for the people of Ur. Amber’s grasp around my hand tightened for a second, but she did her best not to show a hint of offense on her face, maintaining a flawless noble demeanor.
Fredreich, however, still had his cold grin spread across his face before he took a long sip from his goblet.
“Recently, a watch-tower near the foothold of the mountains turned to ash,” Fredreich spoke up, his voice dangerously soft, silencing everyone at the table immediately. “The only thing we could recover were fragments of bones.”
He stood up and started pacing back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back.
“It’s well known that those folk specialize in fire magic,” he continued, casting a deliberate glance at Amber. “Even our Royal Guard’s magic couldn’t compare.”
“So, has Alaric forgotten his pledge to our Kingdom?” the old man from Eisenfurt spoke up, his previous grievances instantly forgotten in the face of a perceived foreign threat.
“It would appear so, yes,” Fredreich took the goblet to his lips, looking blankly at the table, as if seeing through everyone sitting there. “And it is my duty to remind him of it.”
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