CH367 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 367: The First Step to Building the City

Petrov stepped off the gangplank and breathed in. He had expected the harbor smell he remembered — rot and brine and the particular sourness of old wood — but it wasn’t there. What he stood on instead was solid, newly laid planking that didn’t creak under his boot. The harbor had doubled in size since his last visit, and the boards were dense and tight, cut from good timber and fastened by someone who knew the work.

The difference, he thought, started here.

A small group of uniformed guards was already approaching. Their leader glanced at the family crest hanging from the Lionheart’s flagpole and straightened slightly.

“Are you… Sir Hull of the Honeysuckle Family?”

“Petrov Hull. I came at His Highness’s invitation.”

“Lord Iron Axe told us to expect you. Please, follow me.” The guard made a small gesture toward the road.

“We’re walking?”

“The stables have been demolished.” A brief apologetic smile. “Don’t worry — the roads are in good condition.”

He understood what good condition meant within the first hundred steps.

The road was wide and smooth, entirely cleared of snow, so dry that it left no mud on a boot heel. It was paved with small black stones fitted closely together, each interlocking with the next, the whole surface glistening faintly with moisture but solid underfoot. And it was not the only road like this — at every hundred paces there was an intersection, another road branching at right angles, all of them equally straight, equally wide, ruled out across the town like lines drawn on paper by someone with a plumb line and more patience than Petrov had ever applied to anything.

Half an hour’s walk. Not a single patch of mud.

“Sir,” Sise said, barely above a murmur. “Is this really… Border Town? Wasn’t it only a mining camp?”

“It used to be,” the guard answered, and there was something in his voice — unmistakable once you heard it — a pride that had nothing to do with birth or rank. “But since His Highness arrived, everything has changed. These roads were built six months ago. Back then there were thousands of workers on them every day. We were building a new one nearly every month.”

Petrov looked at the trees. Neat rows lining every street, planted at regular intervals, their bare winter branches reaching across the road in a way that would form a canopy in summer. Then the houses — the mud huts and rotting inns he remembered were simply gone, replaced by brick buildings of two and three stories, all built in the same style, all clearly the work of a single organized effort.

How does a man do this in one year?

He followed the guards through the castle gates, was handed off to an armored knight, and finally understood why he’d felt such disorientation since stepping off the boat: the castle, at least, was the same. Small compared to the Stronghold, unchanged from his last visit. Familiar. When the knight opened the door to the hall, Petrov felt the strangeness of the rest of the town drop away.

Roland sat on the throne at the far end.

“Welcome to Border Town,” the prince said, and smiled. “Mr. Ambassador.

The same easy irony. The same grey eyes measuring him with what passed, in that face, for warmth. Petrov felt something he wouldn’t have expected: relief. He raised his hand to his chest and bowed. “The Honeysuckle Family pays its respects, Your Highness.”

“Have a seat.” Roland nodded. “I called you here because of a matter that concerns the future of the entire Western Region — Longsong Stronghold included.”

“Please go ahead.”

“I plan to build a city.” Roland’s voice was level, unhurried, the voice of a man describing a thing he has already decided on. “Extending westward to the Misty Forest, eastward to Longsong Stronghold, encompassing half the Western Region within its bounds. From that point on, the Stronghold becomes an eastern fortress for the new city — a first line of defense against the Church’s army — rather than an independent city in its own right.” He paused to let that settle. “In a region of that scale, one body of law and one judicial authority must govern everywhere. Enforcement will centralize to the City Hall of the new city. No noble family will retain the right to meddle in city governance — including the five main families of the Western Region.”

The shock arrived cleanly and fully. A year ago, Petrov had proposed something in this vein himself — moving the defensive line to Border Town, using the space between the two settlements. He had thought it bold then. What Roland was describing was something else entirely: swallowing Longsong Stronghold into the edge of a new city the size of a kingdom.

He wanted to push back. He could feel the objection forming. But he already knew it wouldn’t land — the prince was telling him, not asking him, and Duke Ryan’s example was there in his memory like a branded mark: permanent, instructive, unarguable.

What he could do was position himself correctly.

“You’ve said the five noble families won’t govern city affairs,” Petrov said. “So how can the Honeysuckle Family continue to serve you?”

Roland was quiet for a moment — long enough that Petrov began to count the seconds and consider whether he’d miscalculated. Then the prince smiled, and when he spoke it was with something that sounded, underneath the official tone, like genuine appreciation.

“You keep surprising me, Mr. Ambassador. Both the ransom negotiation and what you just said — that kind of wisdom is rare in a nobleman.” The smile faded into something more direct. “As long as the Honeysuckle Family accepts my rule, you can assist me in governing the Longsong region.”

“Both my father and I will always do as you—”

“I’m not speaking of individuals,” Roland interrupted, not unkindly. “I’m speaking of the family’s relationship to the land. From now on, nobles under my rule will own their land but will not govern it. Law, enforcement, policy — all of it defers to City Hall’s decrees.”

“I…” Petrov hesitated.

“Land passes through the family line, same as titles. Your industries, your farms, your workshops — all of it stays yours, with my blessing. That’s an indisputable right, and I won’t touch it. It may even flourish under the new policies.” Roland continued, unhurried. “Of course, you can also choose to return to your land and keep your feudal arrangements as they are. But when I finish building this city and begin expanding, any land I take will not be returned to its previous holder.”

He let the silence that followed do its work.

Discussion

Suggest a change