When Barcas asked him in a cold tone, he responded with an agitated expression on his face, and Gareth flinched and took a step back.
Barcas, who had been looking at the sight with a weary gaze, added coldly.
"I am fulfilling my duty as a loyal subject of the Empire. Where my heart lies is none of Your Highness's business."
His copper-colored face turned dark.
The man, who was glaring at him with eyes filled with betrayal, gritted his teeth and said.
"You swore to our mother... that you would protect Ayla and me."
"That's why I'm here now."
Barcas cut him off, somewhat annoyed.
"If I hadn't stopped you, Her Highness the First Princess would have become Duke Haeimdal's hostage by now. If I hadn't anticipated the North's movements and blocked their funding, the rebels would have been able to break out easily. I couldn't isolate them, and now I want to end the war quickly and prevent Your Highness the Crown Prince from suffering any harm."
Barcas paused for a moment, staring intently at his cousin's face, which was flushed red with humiliation.
"What more can I do to convince Your Highness?"
"Ha! You're so smart and annoying, but in the end, you abandoned Ayla and chose that bastard. And even now, you care more about that bastard than about supporting me! And how can I trust your loyalty?"
"Your Highness."
Gareth's mouth, which had been fluttering, closed at the sound of his soft voice.
Barcas approached the Crown Prince, grabbed his armored, powerful shoulder with one hand, and pushed down hard.
"We made a deal, didn't we? Your Highness, you finally agreed to my marriage."
The tendons on the Crown Prince's neck and cheeks stood on end. He writhed as if trying to escape his grasp, and Barcas pressed down even harder, whispering coldly into his ear.
"But why do you keep asking and hanging on?"
In an instant, the Crown Prince's face turned ashen. His expression was as if his neck had been bitten by a hunting dog he'd raised.
Barcas let out a long breath and relaxed his fingers.
"I'm serious when I say that ending the war in name only is the way forward for the Empire. So please, put aside your emotions and assess the situation calmly."
Barcas lightly patted his shoulder and left the barracks, and the strong smell of earth filled his nose.
Looking up at the darkened sky for a moment, Barcas slowly crossed the barracks, getting hit by the rain that was starting to gradually subside.
Between the uniformly placed military barracks, the rough and desolate landscape of the Kairas Valley was vaguely visible.
Having established a base in Verdis, which connects the east and north, he moved some of his elite troops to the northwest in preparation for the future situation.
The new garrison was strategically located, allowing direct access to Amasek, the center of the Balto campaign in case of emergency, and only a short distance from Dolakan Castle, where the meeting was likely to take place. He planned to set up camp here and then, depending on the Emperor's decision, either advance north to Amasek or move on to Dolakan Castle.
Fortunately, the meeting had been decided, so he planned to go south as soon as day broke and observe the signing of the peace treaty.
The Emperor will send a separate representative, so there is no need for him to stay there, but it would be good to stay close by and prepare for any unexpected events.
He looked down at the narrow valley shrouded in mist, scratching at his hair that was soaked with drizzle.
If the peace treaty is concluded smoothly, Heimdall's family will be driven out by their own people, and the rebellion will be completely suppressed.
Then, he too will be able to return home soon.
'She won't welcome it, but...'
Barcas sat down on the rough fence with a lonely sigh, took out the water bottle tied to his belt, and closed his mouth.
Just then, a dark shadow approached from the rain, leading a horse.
Barcas narrowed his eyes as he recognized his face. Tyrone El Drakan, stationed at Verdis, was coming across the barracks, splashing mud.
"Your Excellency."
The man who stopped in front of him bowed politely.
Barcas frowned as he scanned his appearance, which suggested he had come running in a hurry.
“What’s going on?”
"I received a call from Kalmor. I came running because I felt I had to deliver it to Your Excellency as soon as possible."
The man, with one hand in his pocket, looked around, trailing off.
Barcas followed his gaze and sighed softly as he saw the Crown Prince's guards lined up outside the camp.
"He came to complain because he knew I proposed a peace treaty to His Majesty. Don't worry about it and report it."
"Ah. So that's what happened in the end."
The man said with a smile, as if he were tired of the conflict.
Instead of informing the knight that even if a peace treaty was signed, he would have to remain in the border area for the time being and pressure the north, Barcas extended a hand toward the knight.
The man, who had a bewildered expression for a moment, soon remembered the purpose of his coming here and took the letter out of his bosom.
"Your Excellency, haven't you been away from the castle for quite some time this time? It seems like various problems have arisen during that time."
Barcas, holding a crumpled bundle of parchment, rose from his seat and moved under a nearby tent. The warriors who had been lighting a campfire around him hastily gave way.
He sat down at a table with cards, dice, and glasses, and opened the letter.
The ink was slightly smudged, as if it had been soaked with rainwater, but it was still readable. Most of the letter's text reported on various legal disputes in Kalmor and the unresolved issue of savage raids.
As he scanned it with a dry gaze, Barcas's eyes became distorted at the end of the letter.
Watching his reaction closely, the knight cautiously added:
"It seems that a considerable disturbance has occurred within the territory due to the monster raised by Her Highness the Grand Duchess. It seems that Her Highness wishes for your return soon to intervene."
Barcas's gaze slid to the very end of the report, then crumpled the parchment. A burning sensation spread from his temples to his eye sockets.
As he was holding his forehead with his fingertips as if to erase it, he heard the sound of a trumpet from afar.
Barcas turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Gareth, who was walking angrily across the barracks.
The Crown Prince, his anger still lingering, glared at him with a fiery gaze, then strode forward to his personal guard. Then, atop his golden horse, he led his knights northward.
Since they were ordered to remain in the Amasek area until the results of the reinforcement talks were announced, there would be no incident of them barging into the conference room and turning the tables.
Barcas, who had been tapping his temples with his fingertips, soon got up from his seat.
"I'll call Beiroff and have them dismantle the camp immediately and move east."
“You mean right away?”
The knight looked puzzled.
Barcas walked towards his barracks and explained in a calm tone.
"The talks will take place in the southern region of Balto. There's no need for us to be camped out there.
"Then what do you plan to do with the cavalry stationed in Verdis?"
"For the time being, I'll leave command to you and Daren."
Batrkas, who had crossed the barracks in an instant, answered, removing the curtain covering his barrack's entrance.
The face of the knight who followed him darkened instantly. It seemed he, too, wished to return to Kalmor with him.
Batrkas patted his subordinate's shoulder, who had been away from home for quite some time.
"The civil war will end soon. Just hold on until then."
"Your Excellency, do you intend to continue staying in Kalmor?"
Batrkas frowned at the unexpected question.
Certainly, if this meeting concludes smoothly, there will be no need for him to go on another campaign.
Isn't it unprecedented for an eastern lord to wander the battlefield for two years?
It's impossible to leave the management of the territory in the hands of the vassals forever. It's a bit premature, but perhaps this is a good opportunity to end the garrison life.
The question was how she would accept his return.
"Well..."
Barcas said, picking up his armor, as he gazed at the flickering candlelight with pensive eyes.
"I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens next."
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