The Envoy's Proposal
The air within the great hall was charged with expectation. Shafts of golden light streamed through the high lattice windows and struck the jeweled pillars and banners featuring the crest of the Drake Kingdom—a dragon entwined about a crown. The ministers stood along either side of the gleaming marble floor, their silken robes whispering softly as the ponderous doors at the far end of the hall groaned open.
Soon enough, the Ironforge envoy entered.
He was a man of above-average height with sharp facial features and a face chiseled out of steel—Envoy Silas, a man whose words were as sweet as honey but whose pride was as stubborn as a mule. He bent low in respect before the Imperial throne, where Lucian Drake sat wearing his Imperial robe, its golden threads softly aglow under the light.
Envoy Silas of the Ironforge Kingdom offers his respects to His Majesty of the Drake Kingdom," Silas boomed in the great hall, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Wishing Your Majesty health, longevity, and perpetual stability for your kingdom!"
Lucian nodded with calculated deliberation, his words smooth but sharpened by authority. "Thank you, Envoy Silas. Let us forgo the courtesies—what is your business at our court today?
Silas tilted his chin up, a suave smile gliding across his features. "Your Majesty, I am here at the direct behest of my Emperor, with goodwill and intent. First, to congratulate you on your recent accession to the throne. Second, to sign a treaty of friendship between our two countries. And thirdly…" He paused with careful deliberation, the silence drawing taut like stretched bowstring. "…to talk of a matter of commerce with Your Majesty."
Lucian's amethyst eyes dipped slightly, a flash of interest behind their serenity. "The Emperor of Ironforge's goodwill is accepted," he spoke deliberately. "Now then, let us discuss this third point. What business does the Emperor of Ironforge have with me?"
The room was suddenly colder. Every official there knew that this was what all the fuss was about. Even the slight rustling of sleeves ceased.
Silas caught his breath, then replied with a diplomat's precision and a merchant's avarice. "Your Majesty, the Ironforge Kingdom has had a chronic lack of iron for a long time now. We have had to buy weapons at a steep price, an issue that weighs upon our Emperor's mind heavily. Thus, His Majesty respectfully petitions that the Drake Kingdom grant the Red Rock Iron Mine and the adjacent three hundred K.M. of land to Ironforge.". In exchange… He smiled weakly. "…we are willing to show a sign of sincerity—one that will inevitably appease you."
The words dropped like a thunderclap.
With one swift motion, outrage coursed through the hall. Civil and military authorities advanced, their voices escalating in anger.
"How can you be so impudent!"
"To ask us for our land—is this your so-called sincerity?"
"Return where you belong! The Drake Kingdom will never submit to such an affront!"
The rage resonated under the vaulted ceiling, but Silas was unruffled, hands clasped tidily in front of him. His calm was tantalizing.
Lucian, sitting on his Imperial throne, leaned forward. His face was inscrutable, but his eyes—those icy violet ones—seemed to pierce the envoy's facade.
The Red Rock Iron Mine sat on the border of the two kingdoms. It had ignited scores of conflicts and even two small wars. After so much bloodshed and expense, the Drake Kingdom had taken it, but Ironforge's greedy eyes had never looked away.
So… they believe the turmoil of my accession leaves us vulnerable, Lucian reasoned, tapping his fingers against the armrest. And they intend to exploit.
His voice grew colder. "Envoy Silas, your Emperor's request is quite rude. What happens if I refuse?"
The envoy held his gaze without blinking. "Your Majesty, I urge you to comply. It would be a choice for the good of both parties." His tone grew stern. "Otherwise, I fear we might have no other option but to settle this on the battlefield. Please reconsider, Your Majesty."
A cold, collective gasp filled the hall.
"How dare you!" one official growled.
"To menace His Majesty—do you consider us cowards?" yelled another.
The atmosphere was tense enough to strangle. Lucian raised a hand, quieting them with a soothing motion.
"My dear ministers," he spoke suavely, "hold your tempers. Let us not be rash. I would first learn what sort of sincerity the Ironforge Kingdom gives in return for the Red Rock Iron Mine."
The ambassador stiffened, his assurance back. "His Majesty of the Drake Kingdom is truly reasonable. Then I shall tell him the truth." He spoke loudly once more. "First of all, the Ironforge Kingdom offers three hundred thousand coins!"
The proposal floated in the air like an insult clad in gold.
Lucian's mouth twisted into a subtle, stinging smile. Though the Red Rock Iron Mine is not extensive, it yields one hundred thousand coin-worth of ore every year. Swords hammered out from it can equip tens of thousands of warriors—a precious asset for our country." His voice took on a cutting edge. "And your Emperor gives just three hundred thousand coins? You think you're purchasing a kingdom's lifeline with loose change? In truth, this is the fantasy of a madman.
"His Majesty is right!" exclaimed one of the ministers.
"To trade an iron mine for a mere three hundred thousand coins—completely absurd!"
"They try to take advantage of our new reign, seeking to gain from perceived weakness!"
"For a million coins, we will not consent!"
Their outrage echoed in the court like steel clashing on steel.
And at it all, Lucian sat still, his robe flowing like black water, his eyes unflickering and hard as the north wind.
Within, however, he sensed something different—a sliver, a thin edge of danger, of amusement.
So this is how they want to play their game, he thought to himself. Let us see how long they are able to maintain a pose of civility when the board starts to turn.
The envoy bowed awkwardly, but Lucian did not miss the flash of fear beneath that diplomatic facade.
The game was afoot.