Book Two: The Larkspur's Longing ~ A tale of deep obsession and devotion

Chapter Ten: Fragile relations

Callidus leaned back in his chair, contemplating the different angles of the situation.

"I agree this appears to be a premeditated move on their part," Callidus finally responded, his tone measured. "We should have better anticipated their response to our actions regarding their citizens in our custody."

The Great Hall remained tense as the discussions among the advisors continued. The Duke of Torne displayed a clear anti-Eflian sentiment, suspicious of their intentions, while the Duke of Renton urged a cautious approach to the delicate diplomatic situation.

As the nobles debated, Callidus's mind wandered, and he found himself reminiscing about his past. He recalled how he used to spy on his father's meetings from the servant's corridor nearby, peering through the cracks in the wood to learn about politics and diplomatic relations. He wondered if that spot was still boarded up and if the servants still believed it to be haunted. Playing 'pranks' on the unsuspecting people who attempted to use that particular corridor had always been a rare source of fun for him.

Despite Callidus's deep-seated hatred for his father, a part of him had always been curious to learn more about the man who wielded such power and influence. He wanted to understand how his father could silence someone with a mere glance and effortlessly sway people to his side with mere words.

Now, the dynamics had shifted, and Callidus found himself leading the meetings instead of observing from the shadows. The advisors remained the same, but he was now the one making the decisions, navigating the intricate webs of diplomacy and politics that he had once sought to comprehend from afar.

"Your Highness!"

All eyes turned to a young man who rushed into the room through the grand archway, instantly capturing everyone's attention. His appearance was disheveled, and he seemed slightly breathless from his hurried entrance. What drew even more stares was his bandaged right shoulder, the rest of the arm missing.

Arden's presence in the hall was met with whispered murmurs. Many of the nobles had never seen him without his armor, and the sight of him sent a clear jolt of fear and unease throughout the hall.

As Callidus stood up from his seat, the entire room's attention shifted towards him, and a hushed silence fell over the hall. Meanwhile, Arden approached the center of the grand hall and gracefully dipped into a formal bow.

"Arden," Callidus addressed him, "Rise and speak."

Arden straightened up, taking a moment to catch his breath before addressing the gathered nobles. His gaze briefly flickered across the room before settling respectfully just below Callidus's eyes. "Your Highness," he began, "the Eflian delegation has arrived, and are currently being detained at the city gates as you ordered."

The revelation piqued the curiosity and concern of the assembled nobles, who eagerly awaited further details. "What of their numbers?" Callidus pressed, "How many guards do they have?"

Arden hesitated, "A surprising few, Your Highness. The delegation consists of just seven individuals. Five guards."

The news prompted a shockwave of surprise to sweep through the hall. Countess Fenella raised an eyebrow skeptically, "Seven? That seems unusually low for a diplomatic mission. And five guards aren't enough to ensure their safety from common bandits, let alone engage in meaningful negotiations."

Duke Leland frowned sharply, "It's possible they have hidden their main force elsewhere, ready to strike if needed."

"Alternatively, it could explain how they managed to remain undetected for so long," Marchioness Arwine chimed in. "Traveling with a group similar in size to an average family crossing Ashlar would not draw much attention."