"Shalaxi Helbane?" Sulia grew intrigued after hearing Ryan mention the Slaaneshi daemon prince. The knightly queen set down her pen and asked curiously, "A Slaaneshi legendary daemon?"
"As everyone knows, the Prince of Pleasure is not a Chaos God particularly skilled in combat," Ryan explained, his expression turning serious as he addressed Sulia and Olica. "To compensate, Slaanesh has invested considerable effort in empowering one of its most favored greater daemons, Shalaxi Helbane. This daemon is not only a skilled hunter but also a rare duel specialist among Slaaneshi daemons, designed specifically to confront threats to Slaanesh itself—be it from rival Chaos Gods or powerful adversaries."
"Shalaxi Helbane has defeated Nurgle's greater daemons Black Plague, Pestilent Scourge, and Wyrmrot, and even bested Khorne's former top champion, Skarbrand the Eternal Watcher."
"So these Aelven envoys are being hunted by Shalaxi Helbane?" Sulia asked, a hint of concern in her voice. "Ryan, you've done plenty to disrupt Chaos yourself. Why hasn't Chaos sent someone after you?"
"Who said Chaos hasn't tried?" Ryan quipped. "It's just that entering the mortal world isn't easy, and I'm both naturally resistant to Chaos and extraordinarily powerful. Furthermore, Shalaxi Helbane tracks its prey by exploiting fear and emotional turmoil. As for me… Olica, you know why."
The dark elf nodded earnestly, unable to suppress her agreement.
Ryan possessed a unique ability to obscure himself from Chaos's gaze. During his early days in Marienburg, Olica's soul had been severely damaged, leaving her vulnerable to Slaanesh's intrusion and corruption. However, Ryan had protected her by constructing a psychic matrix. Later, with the completion of his spiritual branding upon her, Slaanesh lost all traces of Olica's existence.
Olica understood how incredibly fortunate she was. Beyond a few exceptional sanctuaries—like the Asur's Phoenix Pyramid or Isha's Dreamscape—there were few places where one could hide from Slaanesh's relentless gaze.
"Don't worry," Ryan assured them after some thought. "This place is too bright and orderly. Shalaxi Helbane won't be able to sense us here. But those Aelven envoys are different. They have missions to fulfill and can't always remain in safe zones, which makes them vulnerable to pursuit… Anyway, let's not dwell on it. We'll discuss it further when they arrive."
Meanwhile, Sylvie had been subdued by Olica, who had clamped a hand over her eyes and mouth. The head maid let out muffled protests, her face a mix of embarrassment and indignation. She struggled valiantly but ultimately stood no chance against Olica. Finally, Ryan intervened, prompting the dark elf to release her. Olica, however, wore a smug, satisfied smile as though she had just accomplished some great feat.
The royal couple resumed their administrative duties. Among those they received was a newly graduated craftsman, a young man from the commoner class. He was tall, lean, and robust, having just completed his apprenticeship under Dwarf Runesmith Master Drong Fainsen with a rare "Excellent" evaluation.
Achieving such a distinction from the dwarfs was no small feat. Ryan personally welcomed the young craftsman and appointed him as a Royal Craftsman. The young man specialized in creating intricate locks.
Impressed, Ryan granted him a new name: Louis XVI.
The young man was elated to receive the prestigious name of Louis but couldn't help wondering, "What does the XVI mean? Were there others before me?"
He didn't understand, but Ryan's words were sacrosanct. Bowing deeply, Louis XVI expressed his gratitude before departing.
It was soon time for lunch.
"Sulia, when is your afternoon tea party?" Ryan asked as he cut into a succulent lamb chop with his silver knife and fork.
"Three o'clock," Sulia replied, her interest piqued. She set down her utensils and asked, "Are you planning to join us, my dear?"
"Who will be attending?" Ryan realized he rarely participated in Sulia's tea gatherings.
Sulia's tea parties were far from trivial affairs. The queen skillfully wielded these gatherings to unite the kingdom's noblewomen into a new and influential network, colloquially referred to as the "Ladies' Circle." As one of the most envied women in the Old World, Sulia effortlessly established a powerful group with substantial political sway. This circle, centered around Sulia, leveraged the political and social influence of noblewomen to aid Ryan in governing and controlling the kingdom's knightly aristocracy.
"The most important guests are Karad and his wife, Catherine," Sylvie announced as she placed a plate of grilled chicken breast and a creamy corn vegetable salad in front of Sulia. Taking a seat herself, Sylvie continued, "Also attending are Bélia and his fiancée, Melissa de la Rote."
"Karad has recovered?" Ryan nodded approvingly.
"Karad is nearly fully healed," Sulia confirmed. "As for Bélia, he's been busy courting Miss Melissa. They've already formalized their engagement."
Bélia, with his sinister cunning, was an intriguing figure. He cared little for wealth, instead craving power and influence. A military bureaucrat by trade, he had an unusual interest in research and often mingled with Kislevite laborers, observing (or supervising) their work.
He had even established a "wellness mess hall" for himself and the officers of the First Guards Lancers Regiment. This private dining facility allowed officers to indulge in gourmet meals and share luxury goods, a practice Bélia seemed particularly passionate about.
Ryan turned a blind eye to Bélia's eccentricities. Why? Because Bélia had purchased two estates with his own funds specifically to supply ingredients for the mess hall.
Of course, Bélia was also a notorious philanderer. Among his conquests was Holkina, a renowned Kislevite beauty who now served as his personal maid. But Bélia's ultimate ambition was to marry into Bretonnian nobility. He soon found his target in Melissa de la Rote, the grandniece of a Mousillon noble.
As a rising star and trusted confidant of Ryan, Bélia had gained the tentative acceptance of the knightly aristocracy. His engagement to Melissa was a testament to his growing influence.
"Excellent," Ryan remarked casually. "It's funny how so many women see marriage as a ticket to social mobility. But Bélia? He's not the type to settle down easily. Flirtation is one thing; marriage is another."
"Speaking of marriages, Sir Raymond of the Old Guard is also tying the knot," Sulia mentioned with interest. "His bride is the daughter of a Lyonnais baron, Stephanie. It's hard to believe that twenty years ago, Raymond was just a young farmhand…" She trailed off before asking, "So, will you attend?"
"This is your stage, my lady," Ryan replied with a knowing smile. "But I do need your help with something."
"There's no need for formality between us, my dear. What is it? Let me guess—you want me to test the waters regarding your proposal to further limit noble privileges?" Sulia's astute observation brought a smirk to Ryan's face.
Ryan intended to capitalize on Duke Louen's surrender of provincial governance to push for full centralization. His plan was to divide Bretonnia into six administrative regions, with five governors appointed to oversee judicial, fiscal, and administrative matters, supplementing the traditional dukes' authority.
Additionally, Ryan proposed a bold reform: stripping noble titles from families that failed to produce a qualified knight within three generations.
Sulia anticipated that such reforms would likely strip hundreds of knightly families of their titles, sparking another political upheaval in the kingdom. How smoothly these changes could be implemented would be a significant challenge.
After a brief afternoon nap, Sulia's tea party commenced on schedule.
Luxurious carriages lined up outside the royal palace as noblewomen, dressed to the nines, disembarked. Some were aged and wrinkled, their beauty faded with time; others were youthful and radiant, exuding elegance. They mingled with laughter and chatter, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie and competition.
Notably, inspired by Sulia's military attire at yesterday's homecoming ceremony, many of the noblewomen opted for similar outfits—military blouses paired with pleated skirts. Stockings remained a staple of high society, while silk handkerchiefs were a newly emerging trend.
For these women, fashion was a daily preoccupation. Falling behind or wearing the wrong attire often invited ridicule.
But Sulia was untouchable in this regard. As Bretonnia's trendsetter, her every move dictated the latest fashions among noblewomen, sparking fervent emulation.
Meanwhile, in the palace's reception hall, Ryan met with Karad and Bélia. Their wives had joined Sulia's tea party, leaving the men to discuss more pressing matters.
"Lord Karad, are your injuries fully healed?" Ryan asked, signaling Olica to serve refreshments. The knightly king was keenly aware of Karad's valor during the campaign, where he had slain Norscan High King Asvar Kul.
"For the most part, yes," Karad replied, his tone steady but humble. "Unfortunately, my master-crafted dwarf rune armor was destroyed. However, the Queen has commissioned Master Drong Fainsen to forge
me a new set. It should be ready by year's end."
"Good," Ryan nodded. Sulia's meticulous care never ceased to impress him.
"I cannot thank you enough for your support regarding Catherine, Your Majesty," Karad added hesitantly, his gratitude evident. He knew that without Ryan's endorsement, marrying a sorceress as a countess would have been impossible.
"Durenne is your only child and the last of your lineage," Ryan replied with a wry smile. "If not for Catherine, I doubt you'd have ever considered remarrying, would you?"
"It's true," Karad admitted, his expression tinged with bitterness. "Elizabeth's passing took too much from me. But this arrangement… this is good. I've fulfilled my duty to my ancestors."
"Why stop at one? You should aim for two or three more," Ryan teased.
"Well…" Karad flushed, visibly embarrassed. "Catherine has suggested the same, but it's… a matter of chance."
"Your luck has always been excellent, Karad. You hit the bullseye on your first try," Ryan quipped, eliciting laughter from everyone, including Olica.
Turning to Bélia, Ryan asked, "What about your wedding, Bélia? Would you like me to oversee the ceremony or attend in person?"
"If His Majesty is willing, it would be an honor," Bélia replied earnestly. He seized every opportunity to curry favor with Ryan. After a moment's hesitation, Bélia added, "Your Majesty, word of Duke Louen's surrender of provincial governance has spread. Among the dukes, there are… dissenting voices."
"Dissent is to be expected. A lack of opposition would be more concerning," Ryan said, closing his eyes momentarily. "But these are decisions that will not be reversed. Further, the three-generation knight requirement must be enforced. Bretonnia is a nation of knights, built on chivalry. We will not harbor parasites or dead weight."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I have always wholeheartedly supported your policies," Bélia affirmed, though his expression betrayed unease. "But… I fear that dissenters will not remain idle. My deputy, Kirill Merezkov, suspects they may take action. Do you have a contingency plan, sire?"
Ryan stroked his smooth chin and smirked. "Let them act."
"It's better to confront dissent head-on. If they don't stir up trouble but resort to underhanded sabotage, that would be far more problematic."
"Let the storm rage on," Ryan declared, his voice resolute.
"Only then can we address these issues once and for all."
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