Clash of Opinions

The grand hall of Castle Aurelian was bathed in the warm glow of midday sunlight filtering through the tall, arched windows. The stone walls, adorned with banners and tapestries depicting the rich history of House Grafton, provided an imposing backdrop for the meeting that was about to take place. At the center of the room, raised on a dais, was the Duke's throne—a symbol of authority and leadership in the Southern territories.

Seated upon it was Acting Duke Edward of House Grafton, his posture relaxed but commanding. His piercing eyes surveyed the room with the calm assurance of someone who had grown into his responsibilities. On his right stood Sir Roland, his loyal knight, clad in his armor and ever vigilant. To Edward's left, Elara, his trusted maid, stood gracefully, her presence a quiet yet comforting reminder of the personal ties that bound the Acting Duke to his people.

As the heavy doors to the hall creaked open, Viscount Harold Everhart entered, flanked by Baron Lucien, who had been tasked with overseeing the meeting. Harold's sharp eyes quickly assessed the room, noting the ancient grandeur of the hall, the figures that stood beside the Duke, and finally, the duke himself.

Baron Lucien stepped forward, his voice echoing in the vast hall. "Your Grace, may I present Viscount Harold Everhart, Royal Commissioner of the Queen."

Edward's gaze shifted to Harold, taking in his appearance with a keen eye. The Viscount was of average height, his slender frame draped in finely tailored clothing that spoke of wealth and status. His grey-white hair was meticulously groomed, and his clean-shaven face bore an expression of sharp intelligence—though there was an unmistakable air of arrogance about him.

"Viscount Harold," Edward said with a nod, his tone neutral but polite. "It is an honor to receive a representative of the Queen in my halls. Please, approach."

Harold stepped forward, offering a deep bow. "Your Grace," he began, his voice smooth and practiced. "I come as a royal envoy, sent by the Queen herself to represent the royal court and reside in your territory. You must be aware of the current situation in the kingdom. Many royal representatives have been stationed in various regions to strengthen the bonds and unity amongst loyal subjects like yourself."

Edward listened carefully, his expression remaining unreadable as Harold spoke. The Viscount's words were formal, yet there was a subtle undertone that hinted at more than mere diplomacy. Edward could sense the weight of expectation in Harold's presence, the kind of pressure that often accompanied those who served the Crown.

"I am deeply grateful for the Queen's trust," Edward responded, his voice steady and measured. "And I will do everything in my power to ensure that I do not disappoint her."

With the formalities of the introduction complete, the tension in the room seemed to ease slightly. But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken awareness that the true discussion had yet to begin.

Baron Lucien, sensing the need for a change of setting, stepped forward once more. "Your Grace, Viscount Harold, the dining hall has been prepared for lunch. Given the hour, perhaps it would be fitting to continue our discussions over a meal?"

Edward nodded, rising from his throne. "An excellent suggestion, Baron. Viscount, please, join us."

Harold inclined his head in agreement, and the group moved from the grand hall to the dining hall. The long table was laden with a feast—roasted meats, fresh bread, fruits, and fine wine—all prepared to reflect the Duke's hospitality.

As they took their seats, with Edward at the head of the table, the conversation began with pleasantries. But it wasn't long before the atmosphere shifted.

"But, sir," Harold began, placing his goblet of wine down, "forgive my impertinence, but I've taken the liberty of surveying your lands during my journey here. In my observation, the looting threat in your territory is not as severe as it is in other regions. Given that, I believe the priority should be to form another troop to join the Queen's army in quelling the rebellion led by that scum Cedric. Although Her Majesty has exempted you from sending troops, considering that your father is already guarding the Eastern Highlands, defending the royal family is, after all, a subject's fundamental duty."

The statement hung in the air like a challenge, and Sir Roland, who had been quietly observing until now, couldn't hold back his indignation. "What are you talking about, envoy?" he retorted, his voice rising with emotion. "Our Old Duke has already taken five thousand troops to support the front lines for the Queen! Is that not serious enough? We cannot agree with you!"

The tension at the table escalated quickly, and the room fell into a charged silence as everyone waited for Edward's response.

Edward leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping on the table as he considered his words carefully. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the heated exchange that had just taken place, and when he finally spoke, his voice was cool and authoritative.

"Viscount Harold," Edward began, his gaze locking onto the envoy, "while I appreciate your observations, I must remind you of your role as the royal envoy. You are here to convey the Queen's wishes, not to impose your personal opinions on how I should govern my lands."

Harold stiffened at the rebuke, but before he could respond, Edward continued, his tone growing firmer. "I will not tolerate any suggestion that undermines the sacrifices my father has already made for the Crown. The defense of this kingdom is indeed our duty, but we must be prudent in how we allocate our resources. The situation in the South may not appear as dire as in other regions, but that is because we have taken effective measures to ensure stability here. Forming another troop to join the Queen's army would weaken our defenses at a time when our people need protection the most."

Roland, who had been seething with anger, couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at Edward's words. The Duke had not only defended their position but had also put Harold firmly in his place.

Edward's eyes narrowed slightly as he added, "Furthermore, I would advise you to refrain from voicing personal vendettas against Cedric. The rebellion is a serious matter, but our actions must be guided by strategy, not emotion."

Harold's face flushed slightly, and he quickly lowered his gaze. "I apologize, Your Grace," he said, his voice subdued. "It was not my intention to overstep my bounds. I merely wish to ensure that the Crown is well-supported in these difficult times."

Edward gave a curt nod, accepting the apology. "Your concerns are noted, Viscount. However, let us focus on what can be achieved practically within the scope of our current capabilities."

The tension in the room eased as Harold took a step back, clearly chastened by the exchange. But Edward wasn't finished. Shifting the conversation to a more constructive topic, he asked, "Viscount Harold, may I inquire where you received your education?"

Harold looked up, somewhat surprised by the change in topic. "I studied at the Royal Academy in Eldoria, Your Grace," he replied. "I was fortunate to receive a comprehensive education in the arts, sciences, and governance."

Edward nodded thoughtfully. "The Royal Academy is renowned for producing some of the finest minds in the kingdom. It so happens that Baron Lucien and I are planning to implement some significant changes in this territory. We will soon have a need for literate nobles and capable individuals to take up roles within the administration."

Harold's interest was piqued. "That sounds like a worthy endeavor, Your Grace. How can I be of assistance?"

Edward leaned forward slightly, his tone becoming more collaborative. "If you can assist us in bringing literate talent from the Royal Academy or other reputable institutions to serve in my administration, then perhaps we can revisit the discussion of military support for the Queen. Until then, I believe our contributions to the Crown are best focused on supplying provisions and maintaining stability in the South."

Harold considered the proposition carefully. It was a reasonable request, and one that could potentially strengthen his standing with both the Acting Duke and the Crown. "I will do what I can, Your Grace," he finally said, nodding in agreement.

"Good," Edward replied, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I look forward to seeing what you can bring to the table, Viscount."

With that, the tension that had previously filled the dining hall began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of mutual understanding. The meal continued with less formality and more open discussion, as Edward skillfully guided the conversation away from conflict and towards collaboration.

As the afternoon wore on, the meeting began to wind down. Edward had made it clear that while he was loyal to the Crown, his priority was the well-being of his people and the stability of his territory. Harold, having learned to respect the young Duke's authority, left the meeting with a new sense of purpose.

And as they parted ways, Edward couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had defended his position, asserted his authority, and laid the groundwork for future cooperation—all while maintaining the dignity and strength of his House.

For Edward, it was just another step in his journey to secure the future of House Grafton and the Southern territories. But for Viscount Harold, it was a lesson in the complexities of power and the subtle art of diplomacy.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the walls of Castle Aurelian, the Acting Duke retired to his chambers, knowing that the challenges of leadership were far from over.