The elves' expressions grew darker. It was evident they wouldn't be allowed to leave anyti soon. Finally, Veles stepped forward as their representative and bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty, we are grateful for your hospitality, but we must honor the Grand Duke's commands."
"I understand. You're heading to rebuild the Mage Tower, correct? Don't worry—I'll inform the count and ensure everything is arranged."
"Then perhaps so of us might proceed to Drakenfels now, as we have a commitnt to arrive there within the specified tifra," Veles suggested cautiously.
"Why the rush? I admire the elves' diligence, but sotis you must learn to embrace the patience of humans," the Emperor replied, skirting the issue with a dismissive tone.
The elves bit their lips in frustration. It was becoming clear that the Emperor intended to keep them here until they offered what he wanted. And it was obvious what that was—magic. The Emperor's covetous desire for elven magic was thinly veiled.
Veles stared at the Emperor in disbelief. "It's one thing to be audacious, but how does he plan to handle the aftermath of this recklessness?"
Even as soone generally indifferent to politics, Veles knew the current situation well. The elven principality dominated western trade, and Sylas, the Count of Drakenfels, held almost complete control over the south. To detain the principality's envoys was madness. Was the Emperor losing his grip in his old age?
"Damn it. This is far worse than I expected. Cooperation seems impossible at this rate," Veles thought, his frustration mounting.
Contrary to Veles' assumptions, the Emperor wasn't acting out of ignorance or arrogance. He detested the necessity of such actions. However, he was determined not to let Sylas beco another Brahim—a forr count who had wielded unprecedented power against the throne.
"No matter the cost, I cannot allow him to beco the second Brahim!" the Emperor resolved. The mory of Brahim's defiance still haunted him. If the Mage Tower were rebuilt under Sylas's control, the Count would amass power rivaling Brahim's, a scenario the Emperor couldn't tolerate.
"The Emperor's authority must remain supre. Never again will a re count threaten the throne!"
Hiding his steely resolve behind a smile, the Emperor spoke warmly.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable and rest well. And later, perhaps we could discuss magic? I'd also like to hear more about the Mage Tower…"
"Disgusting."
A clear, lodic voice cut through the air, freezing the room. All eyes turned toward the elven envoy who had yet to remove her hood.
"To covet what belongs to your vassals, to detain envoys and pressure them under the guise of authority—what disgraceful behavior. And you call yourself an emperor?"
"What—what did you say?" the Emperor sputtered, his face turning red with fury.
Everyone in the hall trembled, stunned by the elf's audacity. To openly challenge the Emperor's authority was unthinkable. It was as if she had struck a nerve that could not be touched.
"How dare you! To utter such words before the true Emperor of the Empire!" the Emperor roared, his eyes wild with rage. The murderous intent in his gaze made it clear he was monts away from drawing his sword.
"Who are you to speak so insolently? Do you not value your life?" he demanded.
"Who said I was just a re envoy?"
"W-Wait!" Veles tried to intervene, but it was too late.
The female elf reached up and threw back her hood, revealing an otherworldly beauty that left everyone in the hall speechless, even the Emperor himself. His anger montarily subsided, replaced by shock.
But her appearance wasn't what mattered most—it was her identity.
"I am Eldira, only daughter of Grand Duke Arathion, the Sword Sovereign, and fiancée to Sylas, the Dragonslayer!"
"...!"
Veles's eyebrows twitched violently. He had known about the Grand Duke's daughter's fiery temperant, but he never imagined she would reveal her identity in such a setting.
"Your Grace, this was not the right way to handle things."
As despair washed over him, Veles recalled the conversation he had with the Grand Duke before leaving the principality.
"Take Eldira with you," the Grand Duke, Arathion, had said.
"What? Take the Lady?" Veles had stamred, utterly taken aback.
"Yes. It's ti for her to leave her father's side and be with her betrothed. No matter how strong a bond, prolonged separation between fiancés can weaken it."
Though Arathion spoke calmly, Veles had been on the verge of losing his mind. Eldira wasn't just anyone—she was the Grand Duke's daughter! If sothing happened to her en route, the responsibility would rest solely on his shoulders. Naturally, Veles had tried to dissuade the Grand Duke with all his might.
"Your Grace, please reconsider. The human lands are dangerous. What if the Lady suffers harm at their hands?"
"Harm? Do you think I raised her to be so weak? She may still lack maturity, but she's more than capable of protecting herself," Arathion had replied dismissively, shaking his head with a scoff.
Veles had wanted to bring up her previous kidnapping in the western lands but dared not speak, knowing it would provoke Arathion's wrath. Sensing Veles's reluctance, the Grand Duke had elaborated.
"It's not just about her betrothal. This matter doesn't end with the Mage Tower's relocation."
"What do you an it doesn't end there, Your Grace?" Veles had asked hesitantly.
"This is the first ti in history that two different races will coexist for an extended period. Do you think there won't be any issues?"
With so many differences between the two races, conflicts were inevitable. Although Sylas might diate to the best of his abilities, the pride of the elves could escalate matters.
In such instances, Eldira would be essential. As the second most authoritative figure in the principality and a future leader of the elves, she could quell disputes that even the most arrogant elves wouldn't dare prolong.
"Unless you think you alone can suppress all potential conflicts? Even though you're a court mage, your authority is far below Eldira's," Arathion had remarked pointedly.
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