The prison holding the captives taken during the war with Terris had been empty for weeks, their temporary occupants having been ransomed back to Miuna. The prison itself remained, Leon not seeing much of a need to have it demolished, especially with all the rebuilding that demanded his available resources.

Now, after soundly defeating the expeditions sent by the cities of the Far West, the prison had new occupants, though they numbered few. For the most part, Leon had sent the weakest and youngest mages back along the Southcourse and Highcourse rivers, not wanting to spare them the resources to keep them alive more than he needed to. Their officers and commanders, however, he held onto—those that survived, anyway.

In total, he had two dozen prisoners, the highest of whom being Duchess Loia, cousin of King Numa of Rolor’s Highcastle and appointed commander of the army Leon had destroyed. She had been ravaged by Leon’s power that first night of battle and nearly brought to her Ancestors, but a combination of timely healing and some longer attention from Clear Day kept her in the land of the living.

Not that she acted much like it; she spent the subsequent few days not saying a word, barely eating—not that she needed to eat much given her power—and avoiding eye contact with anyone who tried to speak with her.

Leon had sent Valeria, Cassandra, Gaius, and others to interrogate their prisoners and to explain to them that there was no need for them to try and escape, that they would be ransomed as soon as possible. So far, it seemed those words had been accepted—accepted by everyone save for Loia, however, as she refused to even look at anyone when they came to visit. Even Clear Day, who’d saved her life so thoroughly that there wasn’t so much as a burn scar to be seen on her body, received naught but silence when he tried to strike up a conversation.

Now, after a couple days spent supervising the reconstruction efforts and taking some time to study enchantments with Nestor and Mari, Leon made his way to the prison, accompanied by Gaius, Cassandra, Valeria, a handful of secretaries, and half a dozen Tempest Knights. If Loia still refused to speak to him, then they’d leave her in her desired silence until Numa came to retrieve her.

When his entourage arrived, they found Clear waiting for them outside of the prison.

“Your Majesty,” he said with a shallow bow, which would’ve been deeper had Leon not scowled and waved away his show of deference.

“How’re the prisoners?” he asked.

“Quiet,” Clear responded. “Docile enough. Should we keep them for too long, I fear that may change, but for now, they are remaining quiet. I recommend extending them certain privileges, if you’re of a mind.”

“Privileges?” Cassandra growled. “For people who attacked us? Who sought to run us out of our hard-won city?”

“Yes,” Clear lightly responded. “I believe it will go a long way toward keeping them happy and compliant.”

Leon raised a hand, silencing Cassandra’s reply. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “What about the good Duchess?”

Clear’s expression momentarily faltered. “Still silent. Still barely responsive.”

“That bitch,” Cassandra grumbled. “Doesn’t even have the decency to talk…”

“She lost someone close to her,” Valeria flatly stated, drawing the other woman’s attention, as well as everyone else’s. When Leon sent her a questioning look, Valeria added, “I can see the signs. She’s grieving.”

“That might be a good place to start, then,” Clear said as he cast a look over his shoulder.

“Later, maybe,” Leon said. “I want to see her.”

Clear bowed and led him into the prison. It was a simple structure thrown up in haste during the war. Still, it was a solid building, and with powerful wards ensuring the prisoners couldn’t easily escape. Leon especially noted the powerful anti-magic wards active in each cell. Keeping them up over a wide-range was difficult, but for these rooms, easy enough. Thankfully, none of their prisoners were strong enough to overpower them. Even better, these wards were keyed into the entire city’s defensive wards, so they had no effect on Leon or anyone in his entourage. Even the guards were unaffected by the anti-magic in the cells.

As he walked through the building, he also noted that the prisoners were taking their midday meal and were all together in the prison’s dining hall. The hall was within a sunken pit with as many guards keeping an eye on them from above as there were prisoners down in the pit.

His group attracted some attention as they walked past the doors, but the prisoners didn’t meaningfully react to their presence, showing Clear’s evaluation of their compliance as reasonably accurate.

Loia was the only one not in the dining hall as she refused to even get up, let alone allow others into her presence. She simply laid in bed or sat on the floor all day, lost in whatever thoughts had consumed her—thoughts of her lost loved one, if Valeria was right.

Such was how Leon found her when the guards outside her cell opened the heavy door of enchanted steel and allowed him inside. Of his followers, only Clear, Cassandra, and Valeria followed him into the cell.

Despite having the opportunity, it was clear that Loia hadn’t bathed in several days. Her clothes were relatively clean, being little more than trousers, a tunic, and a pair of sandals given to her by the prison, but her face was greasy, her hair was a matted mess, and Leon could smell her from across the room. Given the state of her following the battle, however, he supposed that having hair at all, or even skin, was a minor miracle.

“You look well,” Leon half-lied. Loia barely even twitched at their entrance. “Not as well as you did when you threatened my city a week ago, but well enough. Have you any complaints about your treatment?”

Silence was his answer.

“Do you have any requests?”

Again, silence.

“Is there any message you would wish passed on to your cousin, King Numa?”

Naught but his own echo in the largely empty room followed.

“So be it,” Leon said, unconcerned by her apparent utter apathy. “I’ll let Numa deal with you.”

He turned to leave but paused when he felt the weight of her gaze land upon him. He turned back and beheld a look of utter wrath and fiery hatred. If looks could kill, he’d at least be a little closer to meeting his father again in the worst way with the way Loia was glaring at him.

He stared right back at her, impassive and challenging her to speak, to dare to tell him he was wrong, to rage and scream and demand his head.

She said nothing, choosing instead to keep glaring at him in silence.

“Bitch,” Cassandra spat, breaking the moment of tension and drawing her hostile gaze. “The arrogance in you! How dare you look at my husband in such a manner! After what you—”

Leon laid a hand on her shoulder, and she once more held her tongue. His attention never left Loia, however, and he waited for her to speak, to justify the anger plainly written in every fiber of her being.

Still, she said nothing.

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He scoffed and turned away again, pulling the others toward the door. It was only for the sake of diplomacy that he restrained Cassandra’s tirade; he was fully of the same mind as she, and had to stifle his anger at Loia’s attitude.

“I’ll kill you,” a hoarse and guttural voice said just as Leon reached the door.

He paused and turned back for a second time. Loia hadn’t moved, but her glare had intensified.

“A century… A millennium… Longer… I’ll kill you one day, monster…”

Her words came as if forced through a cheese grater, grief, injury, and the lack of use for the past few days leaving her with little voice at all. But her attitude sold her threat where her voice couldn’t, especially in the hatred Leon could see in her eyes.

“Did you just…” Cassandra murmured with such disbelief that she didn’t even sound angry.

“Have we informed King Numa of his cousin’s survival yet?” Leon asked Clear, his golden eyes remaining locked on Loia for every syllable.

Slowly, Clear replied, “Not yet.”

Leon smirked. His fingers curled and his magic flexed, almost summoning Iron Pride. “Not smart, ‘Duchess’. I could easily say that you died when I cleaved your ark in half and shattered the forces under your command.”

“Then do it!” Loia barked, springing to her feet with surprising agility, which prompted Valeria and Cassandra both to draw their weapons. Loia didn’t charge, however, so neither did they. “Send me to my Touin! You took him from me! You’ve taken everything from me!”

“Not true, dumb bitch,” Cassandra vitriolically replied. “You still have much that can be taken.”

“My life?” Loia rasped. “What is that worth when my heart has been torn from my chest? What is life when the light in it has gone out?! What do I have left when I have been left to struggle on joylessly, alone?!” Her voice, while still intelligible, became less so as she continued. It was like floodgates had opened and tears streamed down her face, but through it all, she maintained her hateful demeanor.

She continued, “Send me to him, now! I know he waits for me on the banks of the Aesii, so send me to him! I wouldn’t keep him waiting for long!”

She advanced a few steps, and Cassandra looked only too happy to fulfill her demand, but it was Valeria who moved first, swinging her glaive and nearly encasing the Duchess in ice. Only her head remained free, though her range of motion was severely limited.

Loia glared defiantly at each of them, but Leon didn’t draw Iron Pride. Instead, he said matter-of-factly, “You threatened us. We responded. Cry as you will, but you have brought your own doom upon you. If your King begs for your return, then I will return you to him—if his offer is acceptable. I have no interest in you, and if you had remained in your Duchy and not attacked, then you and all those you lost this week would yet live. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you and yours.”

“How convenient… for you!” Loia gasped, the freezing chill of Valeria’s ice causing her teeth to chatter and her breathing to deepen. “We… never attacked! You… struck f-first!”

“Convenient?!” Leon spat. “You threatened us, then sent an armed expedition at my city! You interpret your own actions conveniently!”

“A bitch and a hypocrite,” Cassandra added with a vicious smile. She turned Sunlight over a few times in her hands, and though her stance had relaxed after Loia was restrained, Leon knew she could, in but a moment, take the woman’s head.

“Enough of this,” Leon growled, silencing the room with a flex of his aura. He snapped his fingers and shattered Valeria’s ice, leaving Loia to fall to and sprawl out over the stone floor. “You will receive neither apology nor satisfaction, Duchess Loia. But if you wish to die, then you’ll have to do the deed yourself. As far as I’m concerned, my Kingdom is done with you.”

He turned on his heel and walked out of the door, which shut with a loud clang as soon as the last of his entourage followed him out.

“We should’ve taken her head,” Cassandra said before the locks had even sealed the cell behind them. “I could still do it!”

“That seems unnecessary,” Valeria stated. “She is no threat.”

“For now,” Cassandra grumbled. “Someone like that could easily become a threat in the future. Kill her now and we save ourselves future grief.”

“Handing her back to her cousin might make what comes next easier,” Leon said as they made their way through the prison.

Knowing what he was alluding to, Cassandra frowned. “Maybe. Maybe not. If she’s like this, Numa might just reward us for getting her out of his hair.”

Clear finally spoke up. “We should not rely on possible fratricidal tendencies in Rolor’s Highcastle. Better to take the surer option to make peace under favorable terms.”

Cassandra looked like she wanted to argue for a moment before quietly shrugging, apparently deciding the argument wasn’t worth it. Or at least, not worth it in public.

When they reached the prisoner’s main doors, Leon turned back to Clear. “Keep them safe for me, will you?”

“Of course,” the tau replied. He stole a look over his shoulder, his dark red eyes scanning the prison roughly in Loia’s direction. “Not quite how I’d hoped to get her talking again, but I’m happy she’s still alive, even if it would be easier to end her now.”

Leon nodded gratefully. He projected his magic senses to get a look at the Highcastle, but there he saw something that narrowed his eyes and shifted his focus.

A regal ark had left the Highcastle’s anti-magic sense wards and was flying in Artorion’s direction. Based on its speed, it had only left a minute or two ago, and Leon couldn’t see any arms on it anywhere he looked. That didn’t preclude them from having arkborne weapons, but it at least didn’t appear to be threatening—not to mention it was without escorts and wasn’t large enough to have a crew of more than a hundred.

“Seems we might not have to wait to send word to Numa,” Leon said aloud, noting also that none of the other hostile cities were doing something similar. “He might be coming to us.”

—

From his throne, Leon coldly evaluated the new arrivals. King Numa was hardly the image of a warrior-king, being rather short and with a hairline closer to the back of his neck than to his forehead. Despite that, his face was full and babyish, and he was a bit paunchy around the waist.

He had been aboard the regal ark Leon had tracked from Highcastle, which arrived only two days after taking off. Leon allowed it to be escorted over the northern Talon, but no further, and the King and his followers had to travel the rest of the way to Leon’s portable palace on foot—or at least, as far as they could given it was now on a floating mountain. To facilitate travel, Leon had had a platform enchanted to fly people from a tower on the edge of Artorion proper to another tower on the lowest stable part of the nine-peaked mountain, though all infrastructure involved was still crude and not yet worthy of his capital.

That would change in time, and for now, it was worth it just to see King Numa forced to walk up the mountain path to reach the palace, despite his eighth-tier power undoubtedly allowing him to fly.

“I wish for peace between us!” Numa declared as soon as the mercifully brief introductions were over. “I have come to personally apologize to you for any offense, and to admit to my own fault in the recent unpleasantness!”

Leon blinked in surprise but otherwise showed no reaction. He certainly wasn’t expecting Numa to make that admission—though he supposed he also hadn’t been expecting the man to show up in person, either.

“What are your terms?” Numa bluntly asked, surprising Leon again with the steel in his tone, which flew in the face of his soft appearance.

Leon’s terms were unchanged, however. He’d already discussed such with his advisors—Shatufan would be annexed, that was without question. If the other cities were cooperative, then he’d be satisfied with vassalization, similar to Alhamachim. It seemed that only Highcastle wanted that, though.

“So eager for them, are you?” Leon whispered with amusement.

“I allowed the wolves to guide me despite my better judgment,” Numa added. “Negotiations can be had, but I’m unwilling to compromise my Kingdom now for the grievances of others, or for my own greed. Let us make peace.”

Leon’s evaluation of Numa went up slightly.

“Submission,” Leon stated. “You will renounce your title as King, and pledge your fealty to me.”

Sounds of outrage came from Numa’s entourage, but Leon pressed on over them, his voice carrying without him needing to back it up with his aura.

“I will enfeoff you again as a Prince, to rule over the lands you now own. But it will be clear to everyone that you are subordinate to me. Such an arrangement will continue with our successors in perpetuity. Furthermore, you will tear down your Highcastle—I’m given to believe you don’t even use it that much anymore. In its place, you will erect a monument to my venerable Ancestor, the Thunderbird.”

Numa’s expression fell further as Leon continued. “Is that all?” he asked, though Leon could hear in his tone that he didn’t believe it was.

And he was right; Leon smiled and added, “Tribute will be expected, as befits a vassal for his King. But that can be negotiated—I don’t want to be unfair. In that spirit, I would also insist that citizenship rolls be shared—a citizen of my Kingdom is a citizen of your Principality, and vice-versa. Free travel will be guaranteed by both sides to our citizens, and trade will be free of tariffs. Your citizens will be free to join my army for fair pay and opportunity, equal to those born in my own demesne. Your citizens will be free to settle in my land, join my bureaucracy, and return to your land if they wish. You will also send representatives to my court, so that I may always be apprised of what happens in your land, and so that you know that you and your problems will always have my ear. I will, as your King and Strategos, protect you to the best of my ability.”

Numa’s expression softened, but didn’t relax entirely.

There would be some negotiation, especially around the matter of tribute, but if Numa was here personally, Leon thought that it wouldn’t be too hard to get him to agree to vassalization. If he had to guess, Numa didn’t have even a single tenth-tier mage remaining in his Kingdom now, leaving him with little choice in the face of Leon’s power and in light of his hostile actions.

“I am… amenable to negotiating terms starting from this point,” Numa said through gritted teeth.

Leon grinned. ‘And I haven’t even told him that his cousin is still alive.’ He had a good feeling about this. It seemed he would have one less city to conquer in the near future, if Numa remained smart during the negotiations…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep