Chapter 219
## THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) – Chapter 219
The murmurs filling the hall intensified.
The chief butler fixed his gaze on the Duke, who was sipping from his glass as if the commotion had nothing to do with him. Then, he asked in an inquisitive tone:
“Does Your Excellency have a particular lady in mind?”
“Am I expected to decide even details like that?” the Duke replied, setting down his empty glass coldly. “The Northern Nobles’ Alliance can choose the most suitable candidate for the position of Crown Princess by themselves.”
“If imperial approval is issued, we will proceed immediately to select the ideal candidates,” the leader of the Northern Nobles’ Alliance intervened, as if he had been waiting for this opportunity.
The Emperor’s chief butler remained silent for a moment while stroking his chin, with a look that weighed gains and losses.
“I cannot give a definitive answer at this moment.”
“I do not intend to demand an immediate answer. All you must do is convey my proposal to His Majesty the Emperor,” the Duke said in a serene tone.
The chief butler finally rose from his seat, looking at that relaxed face with evident displeasure.
“Very well. I will convey the Duke’s words to His Majesty exactly as they are.”
It did not take long before the marriage project between the daughter of the Bleston family and the Crown Prince was approved; the imperial delegation felt deep down the danger of the popular unrest in the North.
They sent messengers immediately to the capital to request the Emperor’s opinion, and the affirmative response did not take long to arrive.
The Bleston family rushed to spread the news throughout the North, a measure intended to appease the anger of the citizens of Balto with the novelty that a future Empress would arise from their own land.
The impact exceeded expectations. As soon as the news spread, the spark of popular rebellion began to die down in several regions of Balto. This was also due to the northern nobles using propagandists to shape public opinion.
Shortly after, the inhabitants of Balto began to see the engagement between the young lady Bleston and the Crown Prince as an omen of peace, and the pacifist current, which spread like wildfire, isolated the rebel forces in a matter of moments.
The militias that had taken up arms against the imperial army began to disband one after another, and the resisting cities quietly opened their gates.
Thus, of the forces opposing the Empire, nothing remained but a few regions on the borders of the North and the army of Björn Bloodaxe Heimdall, entrenched in Jotunheim.
“All of this is thanks to Your Excellency’s great efforts,” the second son of the Bleston family said in a cheerful tone while visiting the Duke’s tent.
His voice was so jovial that it aroused suspicion, especially since he would soon be forced to face his former ally as an enemy.
Varkas, who was sitting in front of the fireplace polishing his weapon with oil, raised his blue eyes toward the man.
That man, who had arrived in Jotunheim leading the army of the Northern Alliance, looked extremely elegant for someone who had marched hundreds of miles; Varkas’s cold gaze examined his shiny armor and velvet cloak before looking back down.
“It seems that the preparations for the engagement ceremony are well underway?”
“Everything is running smoothly so far. Despite the opposition of some nobles, it seems that most of the main members of the Central Council accept this marriage positively. A majestic engagement ceremony is scheduled to take place as soon as His Highness the Crown Prince returns with his army,” the man replied in his usual relaxed tone, and then examined the boxes piled near the entrance. “Does Your Excellency plan to return to the East?”
“Orders have been issued for the Imperial Alliance army to withdraw as soon as the Northern Alliance army arrives,” Varkas replied as he stood up, shearing his polished sword into its scabbard. “I will camp near the mountains of Jotunheim for a while, but we will no longer be at the vanguard. The task of clearing what remains of the rebels now falls upon the Northern Alliance.”
“That was the condition for Anister to become the Crown Prince’s wife, so we have no choice.” The man let out a short sigh and then suddenly looked at him with seriousness. “In any case, I thank you once again for your efforts to bring this marriage to fruition. Thanks to that, it seems the truce treaty will also be signed without a hitch.”
“There is no need to thank me. I pushed the matter forward because I saw a benefit in it for myself as well.”
Varkas accepted the man’s gratitude with indifference, then took his coat and went outside.
Behind the lined tents and high barricades rose the imposing gray and rocky peaks. He scanned the snow-covered slopes and the valleys stretching between them, and then headed toward the edge of the camp.
Upon reaching the end of the barracks, the scenes of the northern soldiers pitching their tents appeared before him.
As soon as they finished setting up their camp, he intended to guide his army toward the southern end of the Jotunheim mountains.
From there, he could watch over the eastern border territories, including Tarlin, while simultaneously responding immediately to the developments of the war in the North. And most importantly, the distance to Kalmore would take no more than ten days, allowing him to receive news from Raidgo Castle frequently.
Varkas leaned his arm against the fence, pulled a flask from his side, and dampened his lips with a strong wine. He did not particularly like drinking, but he had begun to adopt it as a habit for some time now.
He felt the heat flowing down his esophagus as if it were burning him, and exhaled a long sigh.
At that moment, the sound of horses’ hooves blended like thunder with the howling wind.
He became alert for an instant, thinking it was a surprise attack by the enemy, but soon frowned upon seeing a squad of knights in golden armor descending along the northwestern slope of the mountains.
Imperial orders had been issued for the Crown Prince to mobilize immediately with the main force toward the southwestern region of Balto. What brought this person here, when he was supposed to be on his way to Sifron?
He crossed through the barracks immediately and headed toward the checkpoint.
As soon as he passed through the entrance, Garis Rom Gerta appeared riding a golden steed.
Varkas swallowed a sigh upon seeing his face, which overflowed with bloodlust; it seemed he had traveled all that distance just to unleash his fury upon him.
“His Highness the Crown Prince.”
He stepped forward to the front of the lined squad of knights and saluted. The Crown Prince jumped off his horse and approached him abruptly.
“You seem to be well.”
His dark green eyes examined him slowly.
Varkas could read an anger on the verge of exploding in those eyes. Garis tightened his lips into a fierce smile and added harshly:
“I thought your mind would have been affected by the effects of the stab from the poisoned sword.”
“I deeply regret causing concern to Your Highness,” Varkas replied coldly.
Garis glared at him with a murderous look, then suddenly turned toward the entrance of the checkpoint and roared:
“Even without this, rumors that our relationship is no longer the same fill the place, and there is no need to add fuel to the fire. Follow me at once.”
Then he strode through the barracks toward the large tent in the center of the camp. Varkas followed him in silence.
Hardly had they entered the tent when a huge, bronzed hand with prominent veins grabbed him by the lapels. At the same time, a heavy breath, like that of an enraged bull, lunged against his face.
“I won’t ask you what you were thinking when you committed this stupidity. Submit a petition to the Emperor right now opposing this marriage. Only then will I forgive you for acting on your own.”
“I am sorry, but I cannot do that,” Varkas replied with dignity while firmly but calmly pushing the other’s hand away.
Faced with that haughty attitude, a thick vein bulged on the Crown Prince’s bronzed neck.
“Does this mean you are disobeying my order now?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Varkas smoothed his disheveled clothes and continued in a calm tone:
“This marriage was carried out with the approval of His Majesty the Emperor. Even if I were to submit a petition now, the possibility of turning back is extremely slim.”
“Don’t make me laugh! You planned all of this! Rumors that you voluntarily offered to play the role of matchmaker fill the continent of Lofeden, so who are you trying to fool?”
“I was the one who proposed this marriage, it is true, but those who approved it were the Council of the Empire and His Majesty the Emperor. If they had considered that this union would not benefit the Empire and Your Highness, it would have never been carried out, no matter what intrigues I plotted in the shadows.”
Now, the Crown Prince’s face was not just red, but it had turned so dark that it looked about to burst.
He kicked a wooden box piled on one side of the tent with his long, muscular leg and shouted:
“For my sake? Don’t talk nonsense! You just want to end this war as soon as possible! Do you think I don’t know that you are dying to return as soon as possible to the East, where that woman, Talia, is waiting for you?”
Comments for chapter "Chapter 219"
MANGA DISCUSSION
Madara Info
Madara stands as a beacon for those desiring to craft a captivating online comic and manga reading platform on WordPress
For custom work request, please send email to wpstylish(at)gmail(dot)com