"A fight?
Out of the question!"
Lord Alec Gutvan, the massive man with the black bear embroidered on his cloak, squeezed his powerful shoulders together in an exaggerated, highly theatrical display of fake terror.
"Who in their right mind would ever dare to physically challenge the future ruler of the East!"
Barkas silently raised his gold-rimmed goblet to his lips, calmly looking at the massive Lord over the rim, entirely refusing to give the man the satisfaction of a violent reaction to his blatant provocation.
Realizing that his highly aggressive bait had entirely failed to catch, Lord Gutvan seemed to cool down a fraction.
Wiping the theatrical, mocking grimace from his bearded face, he grumbled darkly.
"But we are all still intensely curious, Commander.
What exactly was the Young Master actively thinking when he deliberately dared to betray the First Princess, breaking a sacred political alliance, just to take on the political burden of the Emperor's bastard?"
A highly tense, incredibly heavy silence hung over the Great Hall.
Barkas slowly, methodically glanced over the faces of the heavily armed men sitting on both sides of the massive oak tables.
The loyal, inner-circle vassals of the Siekan house, who lived in the very heart of the East in Kalmore, looked openly, violently dissatisfied with Gutvan's deep disrespect.
But the outer feudal Lords—the powerful men who militarily controlled the distant border provinces—looked at Barkas appraisingly.
They were silently, critically watching the exchange, exactly as if they were trying to definitively decide whether they could genuinely entrust their fate, and the political future of the entire East, to this capital-raised heir.
Barkas slowly swirled the blood-red wine in his goblet and finally spoke in a dangerously calm voice.
"'Betrayal?' What an incredibly dramatic word, Lord Gutvan.
As absolutely everyone in this hall is fully aware, my original engagement to the First Princess was entirely concluded for the sake of imperial political interests.
When the political situation rapidly changes in the capital, the agreements inevitably change with it."
"And what exactly changed?!" Lord Gutvan squinted irritably, a thick, throbbing purple vein appearing on his tanned forehead.
"A couple of whispered words from His Imperial Majesty—is that, in your opinion, an acceptable reason to completely cancel a sacred marriage agreement that is several years old?!"
"So you actively believe that a direct, unyielding decree from the absolute ruler of the entire Roem Empire is a mere political trifle?" Barkas tilted his head slightly, feigning profound surprise.
"Is that what you are publicly declaring in front of witnesses, Lord Gutvan?"
Gutvan was entirely speechless for a terrifying moment.
His rough, heavily scarred face, covered with a thick black beard, flashed violently red as he realized Barkas had just neatly backed him into committing verbal treason against the Emperor.
Then, trying to recover his footing, Gutvan chuckled loudly.
"Ah!
So this is your legendary imperial devotion!
Well, I absolutely have nothing to strive for in that regard!"
"Sir Gutvan, it seems you are getting entirely too excited by the imperial wine," a mature, highly distinguished nobleman sitting directly opposite him cautiously intervened, trying to de-escalate the rising violence.
But Gutvan didn’t even bat an eyelid.
He aggressively drained his massive goblet of wine in a single gulp, roughly wiped his wet lips with his fur sleeve, and continued his lethal interrogation.
"Someday, our great Emperor will inevitably leave his throne," Gutvan declared loudly to the hall.
"When that day comes, His Highness Crown Prince Gareth will legally become the new, absolute ruler of the continent.
What exactly will you do then, Commander?
Do you genuinely believe the Crown Prince will accept the military devotion of the East with an open heart after you publicly humiliated his beloved full-blooded sister?"
"This new marriage was legally concluded with the explicit, absolute consent of His Highness the Crown Prince," Barkas lied smoothly, looking directly at his own reflection in the crimson wine.
"Moreover...
later on, His Highness himself began to actively show a much, much greater interest in seeing this specific union occur."
"What exactly is that supposed to mean...?"
"Let us simply say that my marriage to the Second Princess is, in a highly specific way, intensely beneficial for the Crown Prince's long-term political survival," Barkas interrupted in a lethal, freezing tone.
"Unless, of course, you are suggesting that I should illegally divulge the highest, most classified secrets of the Imperial House to satisfy your provincial curiosity?"
A heavy shadow of profound doubt and intense political calculation rapidly ran across the faces of the listening provincial nobles.
Barkas's heavily veiled, deeply ambiguous words could easily be interpreted as a direct hint that the Commander was actively holding the Crown Prince by the throat with highly classified blackmail.
Barkas watched the Eastern Lords nervously exchange calculating glances.
Exactly as if wanting to casually defuse the highly lethal political situation he had just created, he added smoothly.
"I sincerely hope your deep provincial doubts regarding my loyalty have been dispelled, at least a little.
And now, perhaps, let us finish this highly pleasant conversation and enjoy the feast."
Barkas raised his gold goblet and slowly, commandingly looked around the silent room.
"Please, drink deeply.
As the highly outspoken representative of the Gutvan House rightly noted, this priceless wine is a highly personal reward for my seventeen years of faithful, unbroken service to the Empire.
Who knows when else you provincial lords will ever have the opportunity to taste such a rare, imperial drink?" Barkas added with a deeply lazy, highly condescending grin.
The outer nobles nervously looked at each other and, with incredibly strained, tight smiles, reached for their heavy cups, clearly trying to quickly dispel the lethal awkwardness.
But Lord Gutvan was absolutely not going to retreat.
He violently slammed his massive, bear-like fist down on the heavy oak table, making the plates rattle, and shouted.
"How exactly can any of you believe these blatant imperial lies?!
After all, the entire Empire knows exactly how much His Highness the Crown Prince values the First Princess!
How could the Crown Prince possibly tarnish her royal honor with such a highly shameful, humiliating decision?!"
The condescending smile instantly disappeared entirely from Barkas's lips.
His rigid political patience was rapidly coming to an absolute, violent end.
It was entirely useless to attempt to argue logic with such a rabid, fiercely aggressive person.
Barkas leaned heavily back in his chair, his icy blue eyes completely dead, and motioned for Gutvan to continue digging his own grave.
Gutvan immediately spoke, completely without slowing his aggressive momentum.
"Do you men know exactly what kind of dark rumors are actively circulating through the capital right now?!
They say that the invincible Heir of the East fell directly into the demonic snare of the witch from the Talen House!
They say that the Emperor, completely deceived by that dark snake Empress Seneviere, violently betrayed the late Empress Bernadette!
And now, the future Grand Duke of Siekan has been entirely captured by Seneviere's illegitimate daughter, forcing him to violently betray the virtuous First Princess!"
"That is exactly what the people are saying!" Gutvan roared, his last words sounding almost like a fanatical scream.
His booming, highly aggressive voice echoed violently throughout the cavernous hall.
"If the First Princess tragically follows the exact same horrific fate as the late Empress Bernadette, how exactly are you going to atone for this unforgivable sin against our bloodline, Commander?!"
"How much longer are we going to sit here and listen to this absolute, treasonous nonsense?!" Daren Dru Siekan could not resist violently entering the conversation, slamming his own cup down.
"Alec Gutvan, you are a sworn vassal of the Ducal House!
Do you genuinely believe that here, inside the walls of Raedgo Castle, it is legally permissible to speak like that to the reigning Heir of the House?!"
"When a ruler violently takes the wrong path and betrays his people, it is the sacred duty of the vassal to violently protest!" Gutvan shouted boldly to Daren, then immediately turned his furious gaze back to Barkas.
"You, Young Master, could have easily made the First Princess—the woman whom the entire Eastern Dukedom adores—the Mistress of the East!
But instead, you dragged an illegitimate, evil, crippled imperial girl back here!
How exactly can this absolute humiliation be tolerated...!"
At that exact, highly violent point in his rant, Lord Gutvan suddenly stopped dead.
Barkas, who had been glaring at Gutvan with a deeply mocking, lethal chill in his icy eyes, exactly as if he were silently watching a deeply stupid, highly tragic play, also froze completely for a fraction of a second.
A small, incredibly fragile figure, entirely swallowed in a massive Eastern travel cloak with the heavy fur hood pulled all the way up to hide her face, had silently appeared directly behind the massive, shouting warlord.
Thalia raised a massive, incredibly heavy glass bottle of imperial wine high over the Lord's shoulders and violently poured the thick, dark red liquid—looking exactly like boiling blood—directly over the top of his head.
Muffled, highly shocked gasps were heard instantly throughout the Great Hall.
Lord Gutvan himself was so completely stunned by the sheer, unbelievable audacity of the surprise attack that he didn't even immediately understand what had just happened to him.
He remained entirely, rigidly motionless for a full ten seconds while the freezing red wine poured heavily over his face, soaking into his thick black beard and ruining his luxurious, bear-embroidered cloak.
Only when the heavy glass bottle was completely empty did the massive warlord suddenly violently jump to his feet with a deafening roar.
Standing at almost seven feet tall, his massive, heavily corded frame violently loomed over the tiny, unexpected guest hidden entirely under the heavy cloak.
"What absolute suicidal idiot dared to...!"
Gutvan violently grabbed the stranger's fragile wrist with a massive, crushing grip and roughly, aggressively tore the heavy fur hood entirely off her head.
A cascade of dark, incredibly thick imperial hair spilled out from under the heavy fabric, shining brilliantly under the bright light of the crystal chandeliers.
Gutvan, who had already aggressively raised his massive, calloused hand to violently backhand the servant, froze completely dead in his tracks.
Looking up at him from beneath the disheveled strands of dark hair, the woman’s incredibly striking, lapis-lazuli blue eyes stared directly into his soul with a lethal, absolutely freezing, aristocratic anger.
Under the sheer, crushing weight of that terrifyingly beautiful, deeply piercing imperial gaze, the massive warlord actually physically trembled, exactly as if he had just sustained a violent electric shock, and swallowed hard.
His pitch-black, highly aggressive pupils slowly slid across her flawless, breathtakingly pale face with a deeply sticky, highly obscene, completely predatory slowness.
Barkas, who had previously been rigidly squeezing his gold goblet so hard the metal was actively bending in his grip, instantly rose from the head table with lethal, explosive speed.
Barkas stepped violently behind Thalia and grabbed her waist, desperately trying to pull her fragile figure safely back against his chest—but Lord Gutvan, exactly as if he were entirely mesmerized by her and physically incapable of letting her go, reflexively squeezed her fragile wrist even tighter.
Something deeply lethal and intensely, violently feral immediately moved in Barkas’s stomach.
Barkas lowered his dark, murderous gaze to the massive, filthy black paw that was aggressively clutching his wife's delicate hand.
And Gutvan was *still* gazing at the woman in absolute, highly inappropriate fascination, piercing her beautiful body with his dark, predatory gaze from head to toe.
A highly lethal chill ran violently down Barkas’s spine.
An incredibly unpleasant, highly murderous feeling stirred violently in the back of his head.
His icy blue eyes narrowed into lethal, predatory slits.
He reached for his sword.
But suddenly, a sharp, incredibly violent whipping sound echoed loudly in the silent hall, exactly as if someone had just cracked a leather bullwhip.
*SMACK!*
Gutvan stared at the tiny woman in an absolute, completely paralyzed daze, his head violently turned to the side, entirely failing to understand what had just happened.
Thalia had aggressively raised her free hand and slapped the massive warlord incredibly hard directly across his wine-stained face.
"Do you actually dare to physically touch an Imperial Princess of the Blood with your filthy, disgusting paws?" Thalia hissed, her voice dripping with absolute, lethal imperial venom.
Only then did the massive Eastern Lord violently come to his senses.
He instantly dropped her fragile wrist exactly as if he had been physically burned by acid, and hastily, fearfully took a massive step backward.