Chapter 864: An Announcement
George counted them: ten women in total. Permitted number for a royal household. Six were dressed as guards—short robes, leather trousers cut for movement—and as soon as they entered the hall they dispersed without instruction, each taking a corner, spacing themselves like chess pieces.
It wasn’t unusual, strictly speaking, for a lord to keep female guards. George kept two of his own, though not for their fighting quality. They were ornamental, in the end—useful on hunts, when he found he enjoyed the sequence of events that followed a long ride through wild country, the particular pleasure of stripping leather armor from tired limbs. No one expected women to hold a line in a real fight. The gap in strength was simply too wide.
But this occasion was formal. A welcome banquet for a king-in-waiting, with every significant noble in the Central Region present. Bringing female guards to this was, at best, a statement of recklessness.
He studied the six guards more closely and felt something closer to puzzlement than contempt. They were not chosen for appearance—that much was clear. Their faces were lined and weathered, running from what he would have guessed to be thirty to forty years, with skin darkened by years in the field. Not the kind of women admitted to any of the established entertainment houses in Redwater. They moved efficiently and without looking at anyone, which was the only thing he found notable about them.
Does Roland Wimbledon have peculiar tastes?
Then he saw the woman on the new king’s arm.
The question dissolved.
She was young—lake-blue eyes so clear and so still they stopped conversation in a radius around her when she entered. The hall went quiet for a moment, genuinely quiet, in the way a room goes quiet when it has registered something outside its experience. Even Edith Kant’s entrance earlier had not created that effect. If the girl had not been visibly at the king’s side, every unattached noble in the room would have surrounded her within minutes.
The last two women were veiled. Their faces entirely concealed—unusual at a banquet, where the social currency of appearance was expected. It drew attention precisely because it refused it.
Guye appeared at George’s elbow with two glasses of wine.
“Thank you.” George took one and followed him to a quieter corner. “Did you notice anything?”
“The woman beside Roland,” Guye murmured. “She’s—rather too beautiful.”
“I noticed that too.” George’s fingers found the God’s Stone of Retaliation in his coat pocket, a habit he’d had for years without consciously deciding to keep. “I think she may be a witch.”
“As do I. If she came from any noble family, we’d have heard of her.”
It was not exactly a secret that Roland recruited witches—the news had filtered from the king’s city to Redwater over months, first through the Rats, then through ordinary conversation after the Church’s collapse and the fall of the king’s city. The new king had not publicly declared his position on the matter, but witchcraft prosecution had effectively ceased, since no one dared antagonize him over it. Nobles had interpreted his interest in witches in the way that nobles generally interpreted inconvenient facts about powerful men: charitably. A witch was like a fine hunting dog or an unusual weapon—kept for special uses, admired for particular qualities. The beauty of witches was widely acknowledged. A man willing to take risks for one was, in that reading, simply a man with specific tastes.
It did not explain why he had brought her to a formal banquet.
Unless, George thought—unless constant victory has made him careless about appearances. Or he was genuinely serious about the girl, which seemed unlikely for a different reason: witches were infertile. That alone disqualified her from any formal position.
But it did create an opportunity.
If Roland ended up in George’s hands, this constituted useful material. A king who flouted noble tradition and brought a known witch to insult the ladies present at a state occasion—that was a charge with traction. It wouldn’t destroy a royal, but it would damage him. And the witch herself could be punished as thoroughly as George chose.
Guye, apparently thinking along the same lines, let a smile touch his face. “You can’t have her to yourself.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” George said, raising his glass. “You’ll have the first chance, naturally.”
They looked at each other, and for a moment both laughed.
The banquet settled into its expected rhythms. After toasts with the king, the nobles sorted themselves by title and interest—men trading reports on recent hunts and harvests and local disputes, women comparing silk garments and new jewelry from the south. George found himself surrounded by supporters, and was gratified to notice that several nobles who had been uncommitted were now gravitating toward him. They had clearly heard the rumors about the abolition of feudal power, and they were making calculations.
His earlier unease had faded entirely. Roland was an outsider and would need exponential effort to effect any change in a region where the Rock family had lived and operated for centuries. The geographical and social advantage lay entirely with George—and Roland’s recklessness in bringing a witch to the table and leaving his army outside the city only reinforced that advantage. If he’d wanted to move quickly, he’d made a mistake. If he’d wanted to demonstrate strength, he’d miscalculated.
For a moment George even wondered whether he needed to wait for the castle at all. The Lakeside Villa, the assembled nobles and their attendants—the numbers were good enough now. But no. The villa was open ground, difficult to hold, difficult to reinforce. Better to execute the plan as designed. In two days, Roland would be a captive.
“Please be quiet.” Earl Delta clapped his hands and drew the room to attention. His round face wore the particular expression of a man delivering someone else’s statement. “His Majesty wishes to address you.”
George cut a piece of spareribs and put it in his mouth. Closing speech. Finally, we can go home.
“First, my thanks to Earl Delta for a magnificent banquet,” Roland said, looking around the hall with a composure that George found, again, vaguely wrong. “I am pleased to see so many of you here. If I recall correctly, nearly all the nobles surrounding Redwater City have come tonight?”
“All but two, who are ill. The rest are present, Your Majesty,” Delta confirmed with a nod.
“Good.” Roland put his hands behind his back. “Then I will take this opportunity to be direct. From this day forward, Redwater City and the domains surrounding it belong to me—the King of Graycastle—and will not be enfeoffed again. In other words—” he paused— “none of you will be hereditary nobles any longer.”
Chapter 864: An Announcement
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
George silently counted and found that there were altogether 10 women. The number did not exceed what the royal family was allowed to have. Among them, six were guards, wearing short robes and leather pants for convenience. As soon as they entered the hall, they scattered and each took a position at a corner.
It was not surprising for a lord to keep some female guards. Actually, George also kept two in his mansion. He did not really expect them to fight but just had them for fun, especially when he went hunting in the wild. It always aroused him when he took off their seductive leather armor and cleaned their feet landing on top of them.
But it was weird to bring them on such a formal occasion.
In terms of physical strength, women were born to be weaker than men, and the gap between them was insurmountable. Therefore, most outstanding guards and knights were men. Except for having fun, no one would bring those women guards who were mere eye candies.
Not to mention the appearances of these women were… so unbearable.
George was not picky, but he believed that these women would be kicked out even in some low-grade brothels in Redwater City.
From their homely faces and rough skin, he guessed that they were about 30 or 40 years old. Wrinkles and dark spots spread nearly from their foreheads to chins. They had a slender figure due to long-term exercises, but their faces really turned any men off.
Did Roland Wimbledon have such a special taste?
However, when he turned his eyes to the woman holding the new king’s arm, he immediately repudiated his previous assumption.
That was a gorgeous young woman who looked perfect from every angle. Her lake-blue eyes were like crystal gems and attracted anyone who looked at them. No doubt they were the most beautiful eyes George had ever seen.
Once she entered the hall, the crowd fell into silence for a moment. Even the appearance of Edith Kant, the Pearl of the Northern Region, had not created such a stir. If the girl had not stood beside the new king, she would definitely have been surrounded by most of the nobles in the hall.
The last two women were veiled. It seemed that they did not want others to see their faces.
That was rare at a banquet, though acceptable. If you did not want to be seen, you could choose not to attend it. Dressing in this way would attract more attention.
“Have a drink?” Guye came over with two glasses of wine at the moment.
“Thanks,” he took the glass, followed him to a corner of the hall, and asked, “Did you notice anything?”
“The woman beside Roland is… a little weird,” whispered the Earl of Tririver. “Don’t you think she’s too gorgeous?”
“Did you notice that too?” George touched the God’s Stone of Retaliation in his pocket and whispered, “I guess… she’s probably a witch.”
“I also think so. If she were from any noble family, it’s impossible that we had never heard of her.”
If was not a secret that Roland recruited a lot of witches. News of this kind spread from the king’s city to Redwater. At first, the news only spread among the Rats, but then after the king’s city was occupied and the church was defeated, more and more people talked about it. The new king did not publicly proclaim his attitude, but people gradually stopped persecuting
witches, as no one dared to go against the new king regarding this matter. However, few nobles took the “recruitment” seriously.
In their opinion, a witch was like a woman guard. She would be kept for appreciation, and be used when they had special needs. After all, witches were renowned for their beauty. Even during the period when the church and Timothy were hunting down witches, some people would hide witches at risk of their lives.
Nevertheless, it was not understandable as to why Roland brought a witch to the banquet.
Did the constant victories make the new king lose his head and start to act recklessly in his private life? Or was he really serious about the woman…
George immediately denied his second guess.
Witches were infertile. That alone made it impossible for her to be his wife. Perhaps he brought her to the banquet on a whim.
However, that was good. When Roland was in his hands, this was undoubtedly excellent “evidence” of his crime.
He could blame Roland for ignoring the noble traditions, and even for insulting the ladies who came to the banquet with the nobles. Of course, the criticism would not affect a royal family member much but would definitely incriminate that witch. As for how to punish her, of course, it would be decided by him.
Earl of Tririver apparently also had the same thought. He grinned and said, “You can’t have her alone.”
“Of course I won’t forget you, old friend,” said George, raising his glass, “I’ll surely let you take the first shot.”
They looked at each other, and could not help laughing after a moment.
The banquet went well. After drinking a toast with the new king, the nobles with similar titles gathered together. The men talked about their recent
hunting, harvest and affairs, while women talked about their delicate silk garments and luxurious jewelry.
George Nery was also surrounded by lots of nobles. At least it appeared that his supporters were no less than that of the lord of Redwater City. Some people who had been on the fence also started to approach him, as they had apparently heard the rumor that the king was prepared to abolish their feudal power. George had more confidence now, and his previous inexplicable uneasiness gradually faded away.
That was right. He had enough time.
Roland Wimbledon, after all, was an outsider, and he had to make exponential efforts if he wanted to make any changes. However, the Rock family had been living here for hundreds of years, so he was naturally at a geographical advantage. This advantage became even more palpable when Roland appeared to be reckless and arrogant. Now George even believed that they could directly capture the new king just with the guards of his and those of the earl of Tririver’s, as well as Levitan and other nobles.
However, after thinking for a moment, George gave up this idea. After all, the Lakeside Villa was an open space and was hard for them to hold. They also have difficulty in transferring troops, so it would be more appropriate to carry out his plan when Roland lived in the castle.
Just after two days, the young king would be a caged bird.
“Please be quiet.” Just then, Earl Delta suddenly clapped his hands and drew everyone’s attention to the center of the hall. He said, “His Majesty wants to tell you something.”
George put a piece of juicy spareribs into his mouth and thought, “Is he going to make the closing speech? Finally, the banquet is over.”
“First of all, I would like to thank Earl Delta for preparing this sumptuous banquet. I’m also pleased to see so many people be invited here,” said Roland, looking around the hall with a smile, “If I remember correctly, nearly all the nobles around Redwater City have come?”
Seeing his smile, George could not help feeling a chill. He thought, “It’s that smile again… A fake smile. His smile simply hanged his lips… What’s he thinking?”
“Except for two who are ill, the rest of the invitees are here, Your Majesty,” Delta nodded.
“Well, I’ll take this opportunity and tell you directly,” said Roland slowly, with his hands behind his back, “From now on, Redwater City and the domains around it will belong to me, the king of Graycastle. It won’t be conferred in the future. In other words…” He paused and said, “None of you will be hereditary nobles any longer.”