Chapter 329 - 324: Placing Bets

Chapter 329: Chapter 324: Placing Bets

Minas Tirith, the Lord’s Mansion.

The former temporary command post had been transformed into a grand and magnificent banquet hall.

The sounds of lutes and bagpipes echoed through the hall, accented by the melodies of harps and hand drums, weaving together a hymn for warriors.

The air was a mixture of the charred aroma of fat dripping from whole roasted sheep, the rich malty scent of rye beer, and the sweat of several hundred boisterous men.

Torches blazed from their sconces, illuminating every inch of the space as if it were day. The dancing flames made the shadows look as if they, too, were celebrating the victory.

Thirty long tables were joined together, stretching from one end of the hall to the other.

This naturally divided the hall into three sections.

In the outermost ring were the commerce association members and low-tier civil officials—those who had contributed money and resources but hadn’t fought on the battlefield. They raised their goblets, laughing and chatting loudly, their faces alight with joy and dreams of future wealth.

The middle circle consisted of the Knights, officers, and vassals of the Dawn Territory who had fought in the war. Fresh off a resounding victory, they were now gathered in groups, boasting of their battlefield heroics or discussing the distribution of captured Multi-Armed Race laborers. The atmosphere was fever-pitched, the din deafening.

"To the Lord!"

It was impossible to tell who shouted it first.

"To the Lord!"

Several hundred bronze goblets were raised at once, clanging together as wine sloshed everywhere.

They had reason to be happy.

They had survived. They had won. And it had been a glorious victory.

Those terrifying, savage Sea Monsters were now nothing more than fertilizer for the marshland.

Everyone had every reason to celebrate.

But in the core area, nearest the head table, the atmosphere was decidedly strange.

The tables closest to the high seat were occupied by the core officers of the campaign and the noble vassals of the Dawn Territory.

A mountain of bone-in ribs was piled on the plate before Ola, but he hadn’t touched a bite. His large, bell-like eyes darted about, periodically glancing toward the small, solitary square table at the very head of the hall.

Baron Kroo, seated beside him, was on pins and needles. He held his goblet, daring only to perch on the edge of his seat, and lowered his voice to whisper to Sea Wolf, "I say... isn’t it a bit too quiet at the head table?"

"What’s the scene?" Sea Wolf asked, picking his teeth with a dinner knife. "If the genders were swapped, you’d see this all the time in the port taverns."

"Don’t be ridiculous!" Sir Finley glared at him, but couldn’t stop himself from glancing up as well.

There were only three seats at the small, white-clothed square table.

Velin sat in the center.

To his left was Diana. The Countess of Dawn had exchanged her armor for a moon-white gown, her long, golden hair swept up to reveal the graceful curve of her swan-like neck. With elegant posture and a gentle smile, she used a carafe to fill the crystal goblet before Velin. The motion was so natural it seemed she had performed it a thousand times over.

To his right was Caroline. The queen of the Golden Sail Commerce Association was clad in a flame-red, form-fitting gown that exquisitely traced her stunning curves. Ignoring Diana’s actions, she used her own fork to spear a piece of lamb tenderloin and place it on Velin’s plate.

Velin sat between the two women, his expression blank, his eyes vacant, like a wooden sculpture awaiting a coat of paint.

’He could sense Caroline’s affection for him, and he could tell Diana might still be clinging to some old feelings.’

’But he had absolutely no interest in any of it.’

’He was only nineteen. For someone determined to uncover the fundamental logic of the world, it was an age for new beginnings.’

’The question of an heir was far too remote, and something like romance—an activity that consumed enormous energy for a highly unstable return on investment—ranked very low on his to-do list.’

’To him, this situation wasn’t a blessing of beauties, but an accident—an extremely vexing one.’

"Miss Caroline," Diana said, setting down the carafe. Her voice was gentle, yet carried the air of a matriarch. "Grey Marsh Territory’s great victory was in large part thanks to the supplies you marshaled. On behalf of the Dawn Territory, I thank you for your generosity."

"It’s not about generosity." Caroline didn’t even look at her, instead using her fork to gently arrange the food on Velin’s plate, making sure the sauce was even. "Velin and I are partners. The business of Grey Marsh Territory *is* the business of the Golden Sail Commerce Association. This is our joint enterprise."

Her "joint enterprise" was a light jab at Diana.

The smile on Diana’s face remained, but her tone took on a nostalgic quality.

"You know, it’s been a long time since Velin and I have eaten together like this. When we were children..."

"The past is the past." Caroline finally looked up, her beautiful eyes sharp and piercing.

"Countess Diana, you are a revered guest and an important ally. But as a former fiancée, you should act like one. Velin and I are the ones who built this port from nothing, brick by brick."

The air grew thick with the scent of gunpowder.

The crowd at the long tables fell deathly silent, daring only to exchange shocked and excited glances.

Finally, Baron Kroo couldn’t bear it any longer. He turned sideways, cupped a hand to his mouth, and whispered to his neighbor.

"Now *this* is a show. The former fiancée on one side, the partner who struggled alongside him on the other... Tell me, who do you think Lord Velin will choose?"

The question immediately sparked a flurry of hushed discussion.

"I’m betting on the Countess of Dawn," Baron Kroo continued in a low, confident voice. "An alliance of the powerful—that’s the noble way. How about it... should we place a wager? I’ll bet ten Golden Suns!"

His proposal immediately ignited the crowd’s enthusiasm for watching drama unfold.

"Heh, interesting!" Sea Wolf sneered, slamming his goblet down on the table.

"I’ll take that bet. Twenty Golden Suns on Miss Caroline. What man doesn’t prefer a woman with some fire? Besides, this port is practically their child. What father would abandon the real mother for a stepmother?"

"I’ll bet fifty Golden Suns!" Ola’s booming voice suddenly erupted, startling everyone. "The Lord won’t choose either of them! His mind is filled with nothing but his bottles and jars! A woman would only slow his draw!"

His voice was so loud that the three at the head table snapped their heads toward him in unison.

Caroline’s and Diana’s gazes were like daggers, while Velin looked at him like a lab specimen awaiting dissection.

Ola flinched, sheepishly lowering his head to pretend to study the beans on his plate.

Velin sighed in resignation.

’This couldn’t go on any longer.’

’This pointless socializing was wasting precious time that should be spent celebrating.’

He set down his knife and fork and cleared his throat.

"Allow me to tell you both a story."

The two women ceased their visual sparring and turned to look at him.

"An ancient text I once read tells of a zoo on a distant continent. In it were two female chimpanzees who had grown up together and got along very well. That is, until the day a new male chimpanzee arrived."

"To compete for the right to mate with the male, the two females began a month-long struggle. They shrieked at each other, stole each other’s food, and even came to blows, fighting until they were bloodied and bruised."

At this point in the story, Diana’s face had grown pale, while Caroline’s brows were knitted tightly together.

Velin continued as if he hadn’t noticed. "But the interesting part is, once their estrus cycle was over, they immediately reconciled. They went right back to grooming each other’s fur, as if nothing had ever happened."

The story was over.

A dead silence fell.

"So?" Caroline’s voice was as cold as ice. "In your eyes, are we just a pair of squabbling female apes? Does this all seem... unseemly to you?"

Her voice was laced with a hint of hurt and indignation.

"No, you misunderstand," Velin corrected her, his expression earnest. "My point is that those two female chimpanzees were adults. They have a biological, instinctual need to reproduce."

He paused, glanced at the two women and their varied expressions, and finally said in an exceedingly sincere tone:

"We, on the other hand, are still young. I hope that you both can focus more of your energy on our joint enterprise."

"As for the future..." Velin raised his goblet to them.

"We’ll talk about that later."