CH846 · Rewrite
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Chapter 846: Factional Conflicts

“Otto Luoxi is our ally and deserves better than this.” Brian’s voice carried across the room. “They’ve dared to harass the Eastern Region — next time they may cross the border and invade outright. Your Majesty, give the order. No matter how far the enemy lies, the First Army will crush them.”

“Invade us?” Barov raised an eyebrow. “If the Kingdom of Dawn’s army could march on Graycastle as boldly as all that, what are you doing standing in this room?”

“My lord, it was only an example—”

“A baseless example proves nothing.” Barov cut him off without raising his voice. “More importantly — why would we deploy an army to settle something that diplomacy can handle? Have you forgotten His Majesty’s primary objective for this year? Does the eldest son of a noble family in the City of Glow outweigh our king’s enthronement?”

Brian went quiet.

“All right — let’s take a break.” Roland clapped his hands. “Eat something before we continue.”

The servant waiting at the doorway wheeled in a trolley. Several officials moved toward the table; others slipped out to the corridor. The tension that had been building all afternoon began to dissipate.

This scene had played out repeatedly across three days. After Roland received intelligence from the spy Hill Fawkes and the garrison report from the Northern Region simultaneously, he had summoned all relevant officials to the castle to work through a response. The result had been the slow formation of two camps, each visible in how they leaned at the table.

The City Hall faction, led by Barov, favored patience. Concentrate on development; build Neverwinter’s population and strength; expand methodically until the kingdom was ready for unification. Appen Moya’s provocation deserved a response — but not an urgent one. The Western Region came first; everything else was secondary.

The First Army faction, led by Brian, wanted to move now. Defend the border abroad. Strike before the enemy noticed. Hit them where they were not looking. They pushed for immediate action against the Kingdom of Dawn, the release of Otto Luoxi, retribution for the harassment of the Eastern Region. The Adviser Department tended to align with the First Army — partly from shared instincts, partly because advisers had little to gain from peace. Their purpose was war, and war was the only occasion on which their expertise earned recognition. They were also newer arrivals from Longsong Stronghold, less embedded in City Hall’s culture, more often overruled, their suggestions dismissed in ways that made them feel peripheral. Joining Brian’s camp, at least, gave them a voice.

In practice, Barov had outmaneuvered Brian in nearly every exchange. It was not surprising. Barov had spent a career at the knee of the kingdom’s former treasurer; he had been shaped by an expert and needed only an arena large enough to demonstrate what that shaping had made of him. Brian was young — a Gun Battalion commander who had grown up a Border Town villager. His courage and his record were unquestionable. In a room of ministers, he was a sword in a debate that required an advocate’s tongue. That he had expressed his ideas as clearly as he had, for three full days, was its own kind of accomplishment.

Roland had remained silent throughout. He had watched, let the arguments run, and said nothing that revealed any preference. This had surprised some of the officials who were accustomed to his usual directness. But the silence served a purpose. The debate had needed to exhaust itself, and the people in it had needed the unusual freedom to say everything they believed without calculating how their king wanted them to answer.

What did surprise him was Edith.

She had not spoken once in three days. Not a single comment, not a single interjection. The Pearl of the Northern Region was arguably the only person in the room with the tools to go directly at Barov and hold her ground, and she had been silent as furniture.

He had arranged for Edith’s placement in the newly created Ministry of Defense deliberately. It was the right structure: external military affairs and the Security Bureau under one department, which separated her work clearly from Barov’s without forcing them into direct conflict over the same territory. She had come from Barov’s office, where she had been his assistant, and had done well there — but the transition needed to be clean. She had started essentially from the beginning in the new department, in a clerk’s position, serving as Roland’s personal adviser. It was a different kind of position from what she had held before, and the lack of public status was intentional. He trusted that someone with her particular kind of intelligence would understand the reasoning: a clean slate, an uncontested path upward, a chance to earn authority in the new department without being shadowed by her previous role.

But allowing Barov to run the conversation unchallenged for three days was not what he had expected from her.

Roland glanced across the room at Edith. She was turning her Chaos Drink slowly between her palms, eyes on the middle distance — as though Barov’s dominance of the room were a feature of the architecture, present but unremarkable.

Strange woman.

He shrugged and turned to Scroll. “Show me today’s meeting records.”

“Of course.” Scroll set down her quill and slid the notebook across the table. “Everything’s here.”

Three days of discussion had produced a shared assessment of the intelligence, at least.

Hill Fawkes had ranked the three pieces of news by urgency: the harassment of the Eastern Region was the most pressing, the situation in the Holy City next, and Otto Luoxi’s imprisonment last. This ranking told the assembled officials something important: the eldest son of the Luoxi Family was not, for the moment, in mortal danger. A new king needed his three great families’ support, and even if Appen Moya wanted the Luoxi line broken, he would need a year or two to arrange it carefully. Otto would suffer in custody, but he would survive.

The report about the Holy City’s instability had been corroborated by the garrison’s communication from the Northern Region. The meeting’s consensus was that it was genuine. Even the City of Glow was stirring now, which suggested the Moya family might be positioning itself against the church — hardly surprising, given how long the Moyas had despised the church and how much wealth Hermes had accumulated over centuries.

As for the harassment in the Eastern Region — the general view was that it meant covert provocation: funding rebels, supplying grievances, setting small fires and stepping back. No one around the table believed Appen would dare march an army directly on Graycastle. The military arithmetic was too unfavorable. But a rebellion within Graycastle’s borders, however weak, could not be ignored. Even a small fire needed stamping out, and this was why Hill had listed it first.

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