Sylas had been stuffed into the barrel, placed on a small raft, and sent drifting downriver.
He was taken by the Stonewold army to the Jade Wall, the second line of defense for Stonewold in the region.
No Aethelred spy, however skilled, could find him here.
However, Sylas's treatment wasn't particularly good.
He was blindfolded upon entering the city.
When he could see again, he was already imprisoned in a dungeon.
The dungeons of the Jade Wall were nothing like those in Lorynth's palace.
They were dark, damp, and reeked of decay.
Sylas even found half a corpse in his cell, already rotting, stinking, and maggot-ridden.
Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long before Gwendolyn arrived outside his cell, her face a mask of anger.
The dignified, elegant woman was furious, her expression one of utter insult.
"Your Aethelred Empress is a madwoman!"
She sat on a chair brought by a guard, seething with rage.
Sylas offered a bitter smile.
There was some truth to her words.
Gwendolyn was a rational person.
After this outburst, she regained her composure and reason.
But her tone remained cool.
She said flatly, "Lord Sylas, I took a great risk to rescue you. Shouldn't you provide the information I want?"
Sylas was silent for a long time.
Finally, he spread his hands helplessly.
"I'm sorry. If I could find a weakness in the Aethelred Phalanx, Lyonesse would not have fallen."
"..."
The atmosphere in the dungeon grew even more oppressive.
Sylas's scalp prickled. He felt he might have gone too far.
Even someone as self-controlled as Gwendolyn could barely suppress her anger now.
She raised an eyebrow, laughing in extreme anger.
"So, you lied to me. Is that it?"
Sylas sighed deeply. "The only way to counter the Aethelred Phalanx isn't on the battlefield.
It's national strength.
Aethelred is flourishing now.
Marshal Victoria's reforms are in full swing.
Facing such a powerful nation, even without the Phalanx, defeating their regular army would be extremely difficult. "
"National strength? I need you to tell me about national strength?" Gwendolyn said coldly.
"Currently, Aethelred has annexed Lyonesse in the north.
They lack for nothing—food, iron, salt, cloth, all manner of supplies.
Isolde's presence in Northspire undoubtedly means she plans to use it as a launch point to move south down the river.
By my calculations, in less than two years of stockpiling supplies, the blades of the Aethelred Phalanx will be aimed at Sentinel Peaks.
And now you tell me there's no weakness, that it requires national strength?
Are you suggesting that if Stonewold vigorously develops its strength, Aethelred will stand still?"
Sylas was rendered speechless.
He reassessed the Stonewold Chancellor before him, viewing her in a new light.
Truly a talent fit to assist a king.
Even while appearing amiable and friendly at the banquet, she had already discerned Isolde's strategic plans.
Sylas's tone became level, his voice calm.
"Very well. I retract my perfunctory answer."
He moved closer to the bars, his eyes like two bright stars.
The dark dungeon and his hellish escape forced him to dredge up the most venomous schemes.
He said softly, "No one can defeat the Aethelred Phalanx head-on.
But... if Victoria were gone, would the Phalanx even exist?"
His voice was very quiet, light as a petal.
But the content was explosive, enough to make Gwendolyn rise solemnly from her chair.
When clever people meet clever people, there's no need for wasted words.
Sylas was going all in.
He could no longer afford to consider his past connection with Victoria.
He just wanted to secure his place in Stonewold and survive.
Gwendolyn stood before him, her usually calm eyes now sharp.
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly.
"I thought you were just a pretty, useless ornament.
Now we're getting somewhere interesting.
Lord Sylas, please continue.
Whether you walk out of this dungeon alive depends on what you say next."
Sylas excavated all the malice within him.
He thought of Victoria slapping him ruthlessly, of Isolde gouging out his eyes cruelly, of his homeland being ravaged by Aethelred.
He murmured, "Victoria has already offended the Aethelred nobility.
Right now, she's like an arrow shot from a bow—unstoppable.
But, before I faked my death, Isolde had already indicated she didn't want the reforms to proceed too quickly.
My fake death caused Isolde to go mad, which instead united ruler and subject, directly crushing the Duchess of Arbor's faction and accelerating the reforms.
Now, I am not dead.
Isolde is about to give birth.
Celeste has been reinstated.
Everything has returned to square one.
Right now, Victoria is in Lorynth, unable to communicate face-to-face with Isolde.
The moment Isolde gives birth, the noble factions will certainly use this opportunity to counterattack.
This is the time..."
He didn't elaborate further.
The implication was clear enough.
It was simply about seizing this chance to send agents to spread rumors in Lorynth and Northspire, sowing discord between the ruler and her minister.
Victoria was a genius at training soldiers.
Without Victoria, the Aethelred Phalanx would crumble.
Even Isolde wouldn't be able to maintain its operation.
Gwendolyn stared at him, stunned, then suddenly smiled.
"One last question."
"Please, Chancellor."
"Can you serve as my attendant?"
"The kind that doesn't involve sleeping with you is fine.
The other kind... not so much."
Gwendolyn couldn't help but laugh.
She waved her hand, and the jailer opened the cell door.
Sylas's heart settled.
Gwendolyn said with a smile, "Rest assured.
I regard Her Majesty as my own child.
I will never marry or bear children.
And besides..."
She looked Sylas up and down with slight disdain.
"I'm not particularly fond of men who already have children with others.
Don't get the wrong idea."
Sylas breathed a sigh of relief.
"That's good, that's good..."
"'That's good?' Hmph."
Gwendolyn scoffed, then returned to her usual demeanor.
Sylas followed her out.
The surroundings grew brighter, and Sylas's heart grew lighter.
He was finally leaving the dungeon, embracing a new life.
Gwendolyn did not linger at the front lines.
Since Isolde had agreed to reopen the ports, she took part of the garrison back to Ironpeak.
The defense of the two passes was not an issue.
As the pillar of Stonewold, if she stayed at the front indefinitely, unrest could occur in the rear.
Sylas stayed by her side, formally acting as her servant.
Gwendolyn returned Luna to him.
Sylas certainly didn't dare let the snow-white cat run around now.
If spies saw it, Isolde would surely track him down.
The urgent task was to quickly integrate into Stonewold and become Gwendolyn's right-hand man.
Like a dodder plant, clinging tightly to this great tree.
To this end, Sylas served Gwendolyn with utmost dedication.
In serving others, he was a professional.
Gwendolyn was an extremely cautious and intelligent person.
The servants who usually attended her sometimes couldn't grasp what she wanted.
Though Gwendolyn never blamed them, she always felt she lacked proper support.
Sylas's arrival filled this gap.
Over the course of the journey, Gwendolyn came to see him as quite a remarkable person.
Nearing Ironpeak, Gwendolyn gave him a few warnings.
"Her Majesty is young.
Though clever and quick-witted, she is playful and dislikes studying.
You must not, under any circumstances, provoke her."
Sylas nodded gravely.
He was now terribly afraid of female sovereigns.
He specifically covered his face with a cloth to prevent anyone from seeing his features.
When they returned to Ironpeak, the young Empress, Mirabel, whom Gwendolyn protected so diligently, was actually waiting outside the city for Gwendolyn's return.
Such a high-level reception surprised even Sylas.
But when he heard how Mirabel addressed Gwendolyn, he instantly understood the nature of their relationship.
The charming young girl, cute and naive, hugged Gwendolyn's arm and said coquettishly, "Auntie Gwendolyn! You're finally back!
Reading all those memorials made my head spin!"