Chapter 74 - Sylvamir Delegation

Chapter 74: 74 - Sylvamir Delegation

The journey to Valebrand took some days even with teleportation involved. Adrien and Vikir first had to reach the nearest functioning port, wait for their assigned transfer, and endure the unpleasant sensation of the world folding around them before solid stone finally appeared beneath their feet again.

When Adrien stepped off the teleportation platform inside the Royal Castle, the place looked nothing like it had during his previous visit. Soldiers were everywhere, and not only Valleroy men.

Elven troops occupied entire sections of the arrival hall and the adjoining courtyards, their armor lighter than what human soldiers usually wore and their formations almost unnervingly orderly. Adrien could see hundreds from where he stood, and that was before Absolute Mana Sense spread beyond the walls.

Mana signatures filled the castle in every direction, layered through halls, towers and courtyards. There had to be more than five thousand people inside, yet Absolute Mana Sense separated them with uncomfortable clarity.

Adrien focused on the elven soldiers nearest the teleportation wing and felt his expression tighten. Even the weakest among them was Five Stars. ’What the fuck... this is insane.’

Vikir noticed the pause and followed his gaze. "You seem surprised, my lord. Were you expecting a smaller delegation?"

"Considerably smaller." Adrien started walking again, though his attention remained spread across the castle. "I knew a king wasn’t going to travel with twenty guards, but this is closer to moving part of an army."

"A king entering another kingdom rarely travels lightly," Vikir replied. "Especially when the meeting concerns the abduction of his own people."

Adrien couldn’t argue with that. If anything, the soldiers made the point without Sylvamir needing to say it aloud: they had come to talk, but nobody here was going to forget why.

One of the teleportation platforms behind them suddenly brightened, and Adrien felt the mana before he turned. Three familiar signatures appeared through the distortion: Amelia first, Lucien behind her, and Vael stepping through last with the expression of a man who had already decided the entire trip was an inconvenience.

’Vael came personally?’ Adrien wondered for all of a second before the reason became obvious. The slaving operation had touched elven territory, Princess Elowen had been taken, and Vael had been close enough to everything that staying away would have been stranger.

A Royal Guard directed Adrien and Vikir away from the arrival platforms before he could approach them. The castle was running on schedules today, and nobody seemed interested in letting guests wander wherever they pleased.

They were escorted through two guarded corridors and into a private waiting room set aside for witnesses and members of the delegations. Drinks waited on a side table, and tall windows overlooked an inner courtyard.

Adrien had barely poured himself something when the door opened again. Amelia entered first, and her eyes found him almost immediately, the formal expression she’d been wearing softening as she crossed the room.

"I’m glad to see familiar faces," Adrien said. "I was starting to think everyone here had been assigned specifically to look intimidating."

Amelia gave him a knowing look. "You say that like you haven’t spent the last few minutes examining every soldier here."

Adrien glanced at her. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Amelia’s smile widened as Lucien came over and greeted him with a small nod.

"Good to see you again," Lucien said. "Preferably somewhere neither of us is being shot at this time."

"Give it an hour," Adrien replied. "There are two kings in one castle. Plenty of time for somebody to make a terrible decision."

Vael reached the table and made a dissatisfied noise. "Don’t joke about that. I’d like to leave before tomorrow."

Adrien looked over at him. "Not a fan of royal meetings?"

"Not a fan of meetings in general." Vael poured himself a drink without asking anyone. "If I enjoyed standing around polished rooms listening to important people choose every word carefully, I wouldn’t live as far away from all of this as I possibly can."

They took their seats while Vikir remained close enough to join the conversation without intruding. There was still time before they were called, and Adrien had one question about Sylvamir.

"What’s the elven king actually like?"

he asked. "I’ve heard plenty about Sylvamir, but almost nothing about the man who’s going to be sitting across from Osric."

Amelia thought for a moment before answering. "Intelligent. Patient, usually. He listens before deciding anything, which is more valuable than it sounds. He’s kind too, but I wouldn’t mistake that for weakness."

Vael took a drink before adding, "He’s still a brat. Less of one than he used to be, I’ll give him that. He’s matured."

Adrien stared at him while Amelia quietly sighed. He had no idea how old the King of Sylvamir actually was, but with elves measuring their lives in centuries, there was a very real chance Vael had just called a man several hundred years old a brat.

"We might have different definitions of that word," Adrien said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. "How old does someone have to be before you stop calling them a brat?"

Vael slowly turned his head toward him. "Are you calling me old, boy?"

Adrien lifted his drink. "I didn’t say anything remotely close to that."

"You thought it loudly enough." Vael remained perfectly serious, which only made Amelia laugh and forced Lucien to look away to hide his own reaction.

Vikir stayed admirably neutral through the exchange. Adrien suspected years of serving House Clairmont had simply taught him when silence was safest.

For several minutes, they talked about the delegation and what each of them might be asked once the meeting began. Beneath the lighter conversation, Adrien could tell Amelia was more serious than usual, and Vikir had barely touched his drink.

The door opened before the silence could settle. A Royal Guard stepped inside, bowed to the room, and looked between them. "Lord Clairmont, Lady Amelia, Lord Vael, and witnesses, please come with me. The chamber is ready."

Adrien set his glass down and stood with the others. Whatever happened next would be decided in a room with two kings sitting at the same table.