CHAPTER 131: THE PACT

His chest pounded with excitement, beating so loudly it nearly betrayed him.

He forced himself to suppress it, straining to keep a frown of composure on his face.

"But what of Shiao Yi’s own will?" Jircniv asked. "He is not an object. If he refuses, then even for Dalmasca it would be difficult to employ him."

"Nonsense," Gabrant replied at once. "If it is for saving Dominic’s life, that boy will certainly agree. He is a straightforward one. Honestly, if Dominic had not gone on with that nonsense about making him a partner, I could have raised him to some proper rank myself."

The black smile Gabrant wore sent a chill straight down Jircniv’s spine, making him recall all the countless achievements this man had won on the battlefield.

Gabrant was known as the merciless demon general when he stood at the frontlines, a name that made entire armies tremble.

The troops he commanded, no matter how many divisions, were said to move under him as if they were his own limbs—perfect, flawless, not a thread out of place.

Even when his forces were scattered to the east, west, south, and north, it was as though there were several Gabrants at once, commanding each battalion directly and binding the soldiers together.

With bold strategies, fearless decisions, and superb leadership, he was a general who had yet to suffer even a single defeat.

Under that piercing gaze, Jircniv found he could do nothing but nod in response.

Once Gabrant confirmed his agreement, his mood suddenly shifted.

"Hm?" Jircniv blinked, taken off guard, as Gabrant’s face twisted into a sly smile, the playful grin of a child about to pull a trick.

"By the way, King of Dalmasca," Gabrant asked smoothly. "Have you no princess of marriageable age among your kin?"

Truly, he was a veteran general who could never be dealt with by simple means.

Jircniv realized he was still far too inexperienced to handle a man like him.

Perhaps even his son Dominic was the same...

At that thought, Dominic rose once again in Jircniv’s mind.

Tenby had told him the man was known as the Iron Knight.

That heavy, severe aura of pressure he carried—it was something Jircniv could now understand all too well.

His golden hair that was flowing in waves, a face as finely shaped as a work of art, and a tall, well-trained body overflowing with masculine charm—Dominic was such a man.

Even Jircniv, simply looking at him, found himself captivated, to the point of envy that twisted painfully inside him.

Any daughter who married him would consider it the pride of her life.

"My wife is the aunt of the current king, which makes Dominic your cousin, Majesty. If a marriage were arranged, the bond between our two nations would become an even deeper tie of blood. Surely, this is not a bad proposal?"

Jircniv quietly drew in his breath.

So Dominic was connected to the royal family of Rosaria.

Yet the way Gabrant brought this forward—using it as a tool of diplomacy—made Jircniv suspect the general’s true aim was not only for his country, but also to remove Shiao Yi from the picture and quickly secure his son’s position.

On that point, Jircniv and General Gabrant’s interests were aligned.

"I have a princess in mind," Jircniv replied. "She is my cousin, the second daughter of my uncle, Count Chelmsford of Dunrossil. She should be sixteen by now. If she is not already betrothed, then surely she would be a suitable match for Lord Dominic, both in age and in rank."

Even if she were already engaged, Jircniv resolved firmly in his heart that the contract would be broken.

He would make sure this marriage proposal succeeded.

Gabrant’s face lit up with clear delight.

"To be bound with His Majesty’s cousin—that would be an honor indeed! I would ask that you press this matter forward at once. If the marriage is settled, then not only will we be joined as kin, but I, Gabrant, and the Rosaria royal house itself, shall treat you and your kingdom with even greater closeness."

Things were best done quickly.

Though the hour was already late, Jircniv rang the bell and summoned Tenby.

For now, Tenby served both as his guard knight and as his attendant.

At Jircniv’s order, Tenby entered with a knock.

"Fetch my uncle, Lord Chelmsford. Tell him there is important business and that he must come to my office at once. He is still within the castle, is he not?"

"Yes, Majesty. The council continues tomorrow, so he is staying in the guest chambers. I shall bring him immediately."

Jircniv watched Tenby leave, then went to the cabinet and brought out a bottle of wine.

It was one of Talcott’s prized bottles, for Talcott had loved fine drink and kept many rare vintages.

Pouring the liquor into glasses, Jircniv offered one to Gabrant.

"Please, General. If we can become family, it will strengthen us both."

"King Jircniv, you are a man who understands well," Gabrant replied.

They raised their glasses, exchanging sly smiles.

At that moment, Jircniv and Gabrant became co-conspirators.

The wine that slid down his throat tasted as sweet as honey.

...

The hour had grown late, yet Louis and the others still sat together in the living room of the adjoining guest chambers, sipping at their wine.

None of them could rest easy.

Captain Dominic was still under restraint, and there was also the troubling question of Shiao Yi’s whereabouts.

Another shadow that weighed on Louis’s mind was the absence of General Gabrant.

The man had left the room and had not returned.

Louis belonged to the knight corps, a separate command, but he had heard more than once that the bold and fearless general often acted on his own judgment.

On the battlefield such decisiveness could be a virtue, even necessary at times.

However, in times of peace, when harmony was needed, Gabrant’s nature—his habit of acting without counsel—was nothing short of dangerous.

At last, the great general returned.