Within Ryan's domain lay the settlement of the Angrund Clan. This area, nestled among small hills, was adorned with statues of the three primary Dwarven gods. Strong and smooth stone roads, bustling with activity, stretched through the settlement. The serfs, laughing and chatting, prepared for the Winter Veil Festival, stringing lights and decorations. As they returned home from work with their bundles of meat and ale, they excitedly discussed Count Ryan's victories, confident that any campaign he led would surely end in success, and all they had to do was celebrate.
"Ryan has certainly accomplished great things over the past few years. Even from Couronne, I hear his name all the time," Duke Hagan remarked to Count Jean-Haron as they observed the lively town. "Look at his town. My castle feels like a backwater in comparison."
"Count Ryan's success stems from his personal abilities and charisma. Only the Lady knows why the Wood Elves willingly trade with him," Jean-Haron shook his head. "But that's not the point. The point is...we must seize this opportunity. The duchy's rebellion and food shortages are critical issues. If we don't resolve them soon, our honor will be tarnished."
Jean-Haron's words struck a chord with Duke Hagan, echoing his deepest worries. Failing to protect and manage the lands and people bestowed by the Lady was a disgrace. However, Hagan had always struggled with internal affairs, typically leaving such matters to his cousin, Jean-Haron, who had borne the brunt of managing the duchy's challenges. Hagan, in contrast, lived relatively free of these burdens.
As they and their entourage watched the dwarf settlement from a distance, Jean-Haron continued to counsel the Duke earnestly. "My Duke, these are dwarfs. While this is a partnership, we are the ones in need. We should be prepared to make concessions. Restoring production and quelling the rebellion must be our priorities. Any losses can be recouped through future trade taxes."
"You're right," Duke Hagan conceded, though his understanding was limited. "But how should we negotiate with them? Should we arm wrestle, have a drinking contest, or wrestle with them? I'm not good at those…"
Jean-Haron nearly banged his head against a nearby signpost in frustration. This was the Duke's approach to diplomacy.
Within the dwarf settlement, Belegar was in discussions with Clan Chief Borrik Northstar, Engineer Dugan Ironhand, Chief Engineer Halhaf Stonegold, and his lead runesmith, Srud Honesthand. They were drinking and discussing how to gather their forces to first establish Blackstone Hold firmly before planning any further assaults on Eight Peaks Mountain.
After the failures of previous attempts, Belegar had become more cautious. He insisted they must thoroughly prepare, including mass-producing weapons and cannons and stockpiling sufficient supplies.
However, the focus of the clan leaders, the craft guild, and the engineers lay elsewhere. "A brewery! We need a brewery to produce dwarf ale! And a large enough tavern to seat at least eight hundred dwarfs! Only with enough beer can our clan regain its vitality!"
"Yes! A brewery should be our top priority."
"Right! Everything else can wait. Our immediate needs are gold reserves and a brewery with a large tavern!"
As the dwarfs enthusiastically discussed these plans, Belegar found it hard to concentrate on his own priorities. The King of Eight Peaks thumped the table in frustration, but his wife, Cormac, gestured for him to stay calm. In dwarf society, the craft guild and clan leaders held significant power.
"If they want to build it, let them," Cormac whispered. "My husband, you need to learn to compromise."
Before she could finish, the large wooden door swung open. Several Bretonnian nobles, guided by Hammerers, entered. The strong scent of beer, tobacco, and sweat hit them, causing slight discomfort. They moved slowly, careful not to outpace their dwarf guides.
Behind the nobles, four men carried a wooden chest engraved with the heraldic emblem of Duke Hagan—an alternating red and black shield with a white stag's head.
Dozens of dwarf eyes scrutinized the newcomers, making them feel the pressure. One noble made a formal bow. "Honorable King Belegar of Eight Peaks, I bring greetings from Duke Hagan of Gisoreux, wishing you the strength of iron."
The dwarfs exchanged glances and parted, allowing a path to Belegar, who sat behind a table, slightly annoyed at having to look up at the tall humans.
"Don't these humans know any manners?!" Belegar muttered under his breath.
"Who are you?" he demanded in a gruff tone.
"I am Jean-Haron, Count of North Gisoreux and Duke Hagan's cousin."
"Oh!" Belegar's expression softened slightly. Dwarfs held blood relations in high regard, especially given their scarcity of females. To them, cousins were akin to siblings, and nieces and nephews were like one's own children.
From a dwarf's perspective, sending his cousin showed Duke Hagan's serious intent. Belegar continued, "So, you agree to our proposal for a trading post? Why didn't Duke Hagan come himself?"
"The Duke doesn't fully understand dwarf customs and feared causing a misunderstanding. We agree to the trading post but have a small request," Jean-Haron said cautiously.
"Oh ho~ You need the dwarfs' help, then?" Belegar leaned back and said bluntly, "Speak! What do you need the dwarfs to do?"
Jean-Haron's face paled slightly at the directness. Court etiquette would have seen someone speaking so bluntly expelled. However, he collected himself and decided to be straightforward. "There is a rebellion in the duchy, King Belegar. We need your assistance. Without it, it will be difficult to establish a stable trade route or develop the land."
"Help? Shouldn't you go to your king or ride your warhorses into battle yourself? Why should the dwarfs bear the cost of fighting your war?" Belegar's tone remained harsh.
Jean-Haron thought it fortunate that Duke Hagan hadn't entered, or negotiations might have soured immediately.
The time for bargaining had come. Jean-Haron signaled his men to open the wooden chest.
Inside were several dwarf oath gold pieces, stacked gold bars, and a large pile of gold crowns and shimmering silver coins. The chest was filled with the enticing clink of precious metals, their golden and silver reflections catching the light in the room.
Belegar and his dwarfs were instantly captivated by the chest's contents. "This…is for us?"
"The Duke is generous, King Belegar. We would not ask the dwarfs to bear our burdens without compensation. Please, help us with this matter!" Jean-Haron carefully chose his words, knowing dwarfs' innate love for gold.
"Very well, I accept!" As Jean-Haron anticipated, Belegar's satisfaction with the treasure led him to agree. The King of Eight Peaks signaled for his men to take the chest, then suddenly asked, "What do you plan to do with the rebels? Execute them all?"
"Ah? That…" Jean-Haron was caught off guard by the question.
"I have a suggestion... The dwarfs need manpower…" Belegar began the negotiations, following the plan he had discussed with Ryan.
...
That night, in the vineyard.
The fireplace crackled warmly inside the room, blocking out the cold wind outside. The floor was covered with thick Tyllean carpets, and Ryan sat behind a cherry wood desk, reviewing documents. Beside him, Emily, the young maid, snuggled close, savoring their time alone.
This would be her last Winter Veil in Glamorgan. Come spring, she would return to Nuln to become a duchess and Elector Countess.
Unlike her previous long, straight hair, Emily now wore her hair up, signifying her transition from girlhood.
After reviewing the papers for a while, Ryan spoke up. "Emily?"
"Yes, Ryan?" Emily looked at him with a mixture of affection and sorrow, dreading their parting. "Do you have something to say?"
"What kind of Winter Veil Festival would you like?" Ryan asked casually. "I'll try to make it happen for you."
"Eh?!" Emily's face turned crimson, her mind wandering. After a moment, she blurted out, "Ryan, you! You always think about such things!"
"Huh?" Ryan thought, are we talking about the same thing?
At that moment, Sulia entered, carrying a tray of snacks, her face adorned with a gentle smile. "Ryan, Emily, you've worked hard. Take a break!"
The tray held various pastries and three cups of hot milk. Ryan accepted the treats, and the three of them sat down to enjoy the snacks. Ryan, biting into a delicate pastry, smiled at Sulia. "I wonder if Duke Hagan will agree to Belegar's terms."
"He might not, but Count Jean-Haron will persuade him to. Don't worry, Ryan," Sulia replied, her sea-blue eyes glinting with a hint of reproach, knowing her husband's playful nature. "You know the answer but still want to hear it from me~"
"We are one, my dear. I value your opinion on these matters," Ryan replied mischievously. "Hearing it from you reassures me."
"Duke Hagan has no reason to refuse. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement," Sulia continued, setting down her tea. The knightly lady adjusted her long black-stockinged legs. "The real concern is King Belegar's temper, or rather, the dwarfs' temperament
, which could complicate the partnership. I suggest you send a detachment to assist King Belegar."
"Yes, you're right," Ryan nodded in agreement.
After a few more words, the hour grew late. Emily, feeling slightly disappointed, gave Ryan a quick kiss on the cheek and went to her room, leaving Ryan and Sulia alone. Sulia had already arranged for the servants to prepare the bed. The couple snuggled under the covers, with Ryan holding his wife's slender waist affectionately. "Everything alright in the domain?"
"Nothing major, except Lady Teresa encountered some issues with her wizard tower construction, but they've been resolved now," Sulia nestled into Ryan's embrace, her golden curls cascading like a waterfall. "She wanted to build it very grandly, so the budget was a bit tight. Also, the Garland Council sent a group of ice witches. They're struggling with Bretonnia's relatively warm and humid climate, and several have fallen ill."
Thick curtains blocked all outside light, with only a floor lamp casting a soft, warm glow. The wind howled outside, and Ryan's expression changed as he hugged Sulia tighter. He spoke softly, "Honestly, I wasn't too keen on Teresa building her tower here. The climate doesn't suit her, and she could have inherited her mother's tower instead of investing so much effort and money in a new one."
"But you didn't refuse her, did you, my dear husband?" Sulia turned to look at Ryan's face. "You respect her choice. You feel both love and guilt towards her, so you accepted it."
"I'm only human," Ryan blushed slightly at Sulia's teasing gaze.
"In that case, how about we host a feast during the Winter Veil Festival?" Sulia's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Let's gather Lady Veronica, Lady Teresa, Emily, Lady Morgiana, and Olica for a grand turkey dinner?"
"WTF?" Ryan's jaw dropped.
The surprises didn't end there.
Suddenly, a blinding light filled the bedroom, and a soft, warm body tumbled out of the light, filling the room with the scent of irises. The newcomer wrapped her arms around Ryan's neck, snuggling into the bed and lying on top of him.
"Great idea~ I want to join too!"
The First Grand Assembly of Ryan's Harem! Blades flashing, storms brewing!
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