Chapter 485: A Rather Complicated Betrothal

The council chamber fell quiet once the doors closed. Around the long table, the kingdom’s senior ministers sat in uneasy silence, each of them looking more concerned than the last.

At the head of the table sat Alderon. To his right, Yerel sat in an posture of effortless grace, his hands resting lightly over a stack of parchment. Behind Yerel’s chair, Karson stood at rigid attention.

"We shall begin with the matter of the Solaric delegation," Lord Emrys, the Minister of State, announced, placing a roll of parchment on the table. "Princess Iryna has formally made her choice regarding the proposed union between our realms. She has chosen Lady Marielle of House Valtrane."

Silence fell over the chamber for three sharp seconds, thick and heavy.

"Marielle of Valtrane?" Lord Orvian repeated in a mix of disbelief and instant irritation. "On what grounds? Since when has a foreign royal princess shared such deep ties with a northern noble house?"

"It is hardly a sudden development if one recalls what happened," another elder minister interjected, tapping his quill against his palm. "When Princess Iryna fell ill from the poison, Lady Marielle was the one who stayed with her while she was unconscious. She saw to the physicians herself and made sure the princess was properly cared for."

"A convenient narrative," Emrys scoffed, leaning back in his tall chair with his arms crossed over his chest. "Lady Marielle certainly knows how to take advantage of a crisis. She cultivated a personal debt with the Solaric royal line while the rest of the court was busy maintaining order, and now she is using that favor to bring a foreign power straight into the northern territory."

"It goes beyond mere gratitude, Lord Emrys," Orvian chimed in, his brow furrowing as his voice took on an edge of genuine worry. "If Princess Iryna marries into House Valtrane, the North will hold both a grip on our border fortresses and direct, private diplomatic leverage with Solaric. The balance of power within Auzelian will tip dangerously toward Duke Valtrane."

"Indeed," Emrys agreed sharply, looking directly at the head of the table. "Giving the Valtrane House that much leverage is a risk the Crown should not take. It will grant the North too much influence over regional trade and foreign policy. Can we truly allow House Valtrane to grow so powerful under our eyes?"

The ministers began speaking over one another, their voices rising in a flurry of overlapping concerns and whispered warnings.

"The North already has more soldiers than any other territory..."

"If Solaric begins sending money and supplies to House Valtrane, how are we supposed to keep track of what they are building in the North?"

"And if other noble houses start seeking foreign alliances of their own, what happens to the Crown’s authority?"

Through all the noise, Alderon remained completely motionless. He hadn’t touched his tea, nor had he looked at the parchment files spread before him. He simply sat, his heavy hand resting on the armrest of his carved throne, listening to his council whip themselves into a panic.

Finally, the King lifted his gaze. He didn’t raise his voice, but the sudden, cold shift in his aura made every single minister cut their sentence short.

"Have you all finished?" Alderon asked, his voice low, dry, and entirely devoid of warmth.

The chamber fell dead silent.

"You sit here squabbling like old crows over influence and balances of power," Alderon said, his eyes sweeping over Emrys and Orvian with quiet disdain. "Have you forgotten how Princess Iryna almost lost her life here?"

Emrys swallowed hard, clearing his throat nervously. "Your Majesty, that was..."

"It was an embarrassment that nearly brought three hundred thousand Solaric troops to our border," Alderon interrupted coldly. "We should consider ourselves fortunate that the matter ended where it did and that Solaric did not demand a far greater price from us. I gave my royal word that I would make amends for what happened. I personally promised Princess Iryna that, in return for the harm she suffered on our soil, she would have complete freedom to choose her betrothed within Auzelian without royal interference."

Alderon leaned forward, resting his forearms against the edge of the mahogany table, his sharp eyes locking onto Emrys.

"Are you suggesting I break my royal oath?" Alderon asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register. "Are you telling this council that the King should go back on his word to a foreign crown simply because you fear one house that has faithfully guarded the kingdom’s borders for generations?"

Emrys’s face drained of color. He lowered his eyes immediately, bowing his head toward the table. "N-No, Your Majesty! I would never suggest such a thing. I merely... I merely wished to highlight the strategic consequences for the empire."

"The strategic consequence of breaking a royal oath to Solaric is war," Alderon stated flatly, sitting back into his throne. "I gave the princess my word. She survived an assassination attempt on our soil, and now she has made her choice. I will not undo my own decree simply because the council feels uneasy about the North."

A heavy, uneasy silence settled over the table once more. The ministers exchanged brief, helpless glances, unable to find anything more they could say against the King’s promise.

Behind Yerel’s chair, Karson kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, though his chest rose and fell in a slow, careful rhythm. He could feel the sheer weight of the political web tangling around everyone in the room. Karson couldn’t help wondering what Marielle had done to catch Iryna’s attention so completely. Whatever had passed between them, it had clearly left an impression on the princess, enough for Iryna to choose Marielle herself and place the entire Valtrane house behind her.

Desperate for some way out of the situation, Orvian finally tore his gaze away from the King’s cold, unyielding expression. His eyes shifted toward Yerel instead, lingering on the Crown Prince who had remained strangely quiet throughout the entire exchange. Unlike the others, Yerel had yet to voice an opinion, leaving Orvian with the faint hope that perhaps the prince might offer them another solution.

"Your Highness..." Orvian pleaded softly, his voice lacing with an anxious, desperate strain as several other senior ministers quickly looked up to join him. "What is your opinion about this? Is the Crown simply going to sit back and allow the North to gain this much influence under our very eyes?"

Yerel remained remarkably calm beside his father, his eyes moving slowly over the now-quiet ministers. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched them, as though he already knew exactly what they wanted from him. A subtle, pleasant smile rested on his lips, as if the intense debate had been nothing more than an amusing piece of theater.