Chapter 102
Cledwyn glanced around at his dumbstruck retainers with a faintly mischievous smile. He pulled out a chair for Nerys to sit at his previously empty right side, and once she sat—though she shot him a glare—he lifted his chin slightly.
“Everyone, take your seats.”
People practically collapsed into their chairs.
Even under a dozen or more blatant, unblinking stares—not just sideways glances—Nerys remained calm. Cledwyn, too, offered no explanation about her eyes.
“Let’s begin the meeting.”
And he truly did begin the meeting.
First came a report on how completely the last faction of traitors Cledwyn had gone after had been eliminated. In the east, the leader had been killed by Aidan, the captain of the Platinum, and the collaborators had each received appropriate sentences based on their crimes.
Until Cledwyn walked in, everyone had cared about these topics, but now nobody had the mental focus to listen or understand. All were too busy with confusion and wild speculation in their heads.
Suddenly, Nerys looked up.
One by one, she made eye contact with every person in the room, from the closest to the furthest from the head table.
No one could last even a count of three under her gaze before looking down and turning their attention to the meeting. There was nothing accusing in her steady look, but for some reason, it made people tense up, their minds snapping to attention.
Cledwyn, catching this out of the corner of his eye, smiled quietly.
‘He smiled.’
‘He really smiled?’
Even the people of Maindulante, to be exact, had seen their lord smile before. No, many times—he was always wearing those enigmatic smiles, hard to read.
But that smile usually made the guilty confess in tears, not—well…
‘Is he… pleased?’
Yes, the smile now wasn’t like those others. There was real satisfaction in it.
A new confusion began to spread among the crowd.
Regardless, the meeting went on. At last, after the expedition report was finished, it was time for updates on matters dealt with at White Swan Castle during his absence.
“The epidemic in Rodier has ended without incident. The Count of Rodier reported that all potentially contaminated items have been incinerated.”
“There are reports that the fish catch in Dorenav has dropped to half its usual level. The lord requests aid through…”
Matters resolved, matters in progress, matters ready for the duke’s approval—each official gave their report, flawlessly and efficiently. At last, it was time for the report on the flood in Fecernon.
“As stated in this morning’s brief, a major tidal surge at the mouth of the Bui River caused significant casualties and property damage in Fecernon.”
Nerys spoke up. Cledwyn nodded.
“I’ve read the report. I’ll need to see more details.”
“The full report will be ready after this meeting. Also, it will include further details, but there was a regrettable incident during the relief process in Fecernon, and several parties are currently under house arrest.”
As soon as the words “regrettable incident” were mentioned, the meeting room froze like ice.
No noble or official felt comfortable. The perpetrators were among the officials, and many nobles were implicated.
And what a crime: They had diverted relief supplies meant for struggling people, just to frame someone else. It was inexcusable, both morally and legally.
After all the abuses of power in the previous generation, these types of crimes were punished especially harshly.
As everyone braced themselves for a turbulent aftermath, Cledwyn spoke as if nothing was amiss.
“They’ll be executed tomorrow morning.”
Those who were close to the imprisoned nobles flinched. Execution… That was even harsher than they’d expected.
Rex, looking a bit uneasy, spoke up.
“Your Grace, in light of the fact that there was no real harm done… Of course they’re wicked, but isn’t there a risk that the people will see this as excessive punishment by the ‘central’ authority?”
“They tried to undermine my appointments for personal reasons, without any proper grounds or appeals, and ended up harming the people. The advisor’s solution required a level of competence far above the norm—if anyone else had handled it, what do you think would have happened to Fecernon? The scale of harm intended by the crime cannot be ignored. So it will be an Execution.”
Cledwyn’s rebuttal was immediate, without hesitation or careful wording. He was right, and his force was overwhelming; Rex immediately closed his mouth, chastened.
It was always like this. Their lord was too clever to argue with. When you listened, he was always right, and the outcomes were always good…
Thus, the punishment for those involved in the scandal was set to execution—until—
“I agree with Lord Bronson, Your Grace.”
A clear voice interrupted.
No one had ever dared to object after the duke’s word in this council. Everyone turned, shocked, to the one who spoke.
Nerys, unconcerned by the stares, spoke calmly and seriously.
“How can you not consider the consequences when determining punishment? If their crime had succeeded, of course they should be executed to set an example—but that’s not the case. If everyone arrested is executed, then all associated punishments will escalate and more people will be implicated, disrupting the administration. Life imprisonment is sufficient.”
Everyone looked nervously between Nerys and Cledwyn. After a pause—
“Then let it be so.”
Cledwyn nodded.
A silent shock rippled through the room.
❖ ❖ ❖
When the meeting ended and people began to leave, for once, lords and officials mingled freely, chatting with whoever was nearby. It was because Rex, the former head of the officials, and the current head, Nerys, had both argued for leniency in the lords’ punishment.
“Lord.”
By chance, Rex found himself walking with Hilbrin. Hilbrin’s subdued voice made Rex blink.
“What is it?”
“Do you know anything about the advisor? Did you know she had jeweled eyes?”
“No, I didn’t. I only learned today.”
Honestly, he’d thought it odd that she’d kept her veil on through hours of meetings, but never guessed why. Hilbrin hadn’t spent as much time face-to-face with Nerys, so perhaps he’d been less suspicious than Rex.
At Rex’s answer, Hilbrin sighed.
“Where did our duke find someone like that? He really is remarkable. She’s definitely not of the royal family, right?”
Both Rex and Hilbrin had done their own background checks on the advisor before Nerys arrived. They knew her mother was a cadet branch of the Elandria family, but found no trace of any imperial connection.
Rex gave a wry smile.
“I’m sure. Unless you count the jeweled eyes—but with such an obvious trait, if she’d been royal, it would’ve been declared from the start.”
“Ah, true enough.”
Hilbrin was a simple sort, not quick to weigh every angle like Rex. As he nodded, a friendly noble approached, looking excited.
“Lord, did you see it? Did you see His Grace change his mind today?”
Normally, it would be rude for someone of lower rank to barge into a conversation between such high-ranking people, even in Maindulante. But this noble was a cousin of one of those implicated in the Fecernon incident, and was practically bursting with happiness over the outcome.
Knowing the situation, Hilbrin let him join the conversation naturally.
“Who didn’t see it? In an hour, the whole town below the castle will know.”
The duke had declared he would execute someone, even tried to push it through despite an objection. Then, someone directly opposed him.
It had never happened before.
And the objection was accepted!
“Isn’t the advisor remarkable? Did you hear her? I’ve never seen anyone speak to His Grace without shrinking back. And the way she calmly, logically argued—if it had been anyone else, there’s no way! It wouldn’t have worked.”
Usually, as with Rex earlier, people lost their words and fell silent in front of their lord. No one could win a debate with him.
But today, someone had.
‘It was certainly persuasive.’
Her words were quick, precise, and needed no time to think things through. That kind of substance only comes from someone who knows exactly what their words mean, with not a single gap in their reasoning.
Some talents show themselves even in the simplest conversation. And people felt that from Nerys.
Witnessing today’s unusual events, people didn’t suspect favoritism. Rather, they admired how exceptionally effective her objection had been.
The excited noble went on.
“The advisor is as brave as anyone born in Maindulante. Her mother came all this way with her—could she be a relative of the duke? Didn’t the royal family and the duke’s house intermarry four generations ago? So maybe…”
“A hidden branch of the royal bloodline?”
“Yes, and that’s why His Grace greeted her first yesterday.”
Hilbrin and Rex fell silent, now understanding why this noble, unlike his cousin, had never been good at playing politics with others.
What nonsense. Did he look at her like she was a little sister?
“…Well, who knows…”
But in these matters, it was best not to speak too freely.
Watching the noble walk away to spread more praise about the advisor, Hilbrin exchanged glances with Rex. Realizing that, for once, their opinions aligned, they both smiled.
‘For now, we’ll just pretend not to know.’
‘Everyone will find out anyway, but there’s no reason to be the first to say it.’
It was the first time in a long while that the heads of the officials and the vassal lords found themselves in perfect agreement.
