Mien: Geras

Somehow, seeing that the Prime Minister was prompting the Baron to communicate by a light interrogation, the noble's initial worries of being castigated seemed to have faded. Still, his breathing was shallow as if he was expecting that he would a knight would swoop down right before him, engaging him in a physical altercation.

In a hurry, Baron Istani scrambled to find a plausible logic to explain the behaviour behind the Barbarians' actions. After a few seconds of contemplation, to an extent that a panicked individual could, he articulated his answer.

"Is it on impulse?"

Duke Claudas tilted his head to the side, glints of disappointment began to swim in his eyes. With a groan and a sigh, the Prime Minister gave another query to the Baron.

"Impulsion? Are you trying to justify with me that they used armours and weapons made of steel, then enforced a hit-and-run strategy with elaborate, organized tactics out of impulse?"

In that instant, it dawned on Baron Istani that he misjudged the situation as he felt embarrassed of his narrow-mindedness, but to err is human. He allowed himself to find a rationale for the torture of shame that he received from being assaulted by mere heathens. Howbeit, his mind had quickly formed a premise granted that he was lacking information.

"My Lord, are you saying that a rival nation is seeking to gain full control of the Southern Barbarians?" Baron Istani bravely presented an opinion that could insinuate a bad relationship with a neighbouring country if they happened upon the accusation.

Thankfully for him, the Prime Minister readily dismissed his statement absent any further reprimanding.

"There is no need to go that far. The sentries tasked with observing the other sovereignties recorded no unusual occurrences. What's definite is that the supply of armouries began an aethras longer. The Barbarians have also been surprisingly quiet with their provocations ever since that time."

Baron Istani quickly pursed his lips, not because of the novel information, but for a different thing altogether. He diverted his stare towards the floor and pondered on what he just harkened. He proceeded to lift his head, and again, locked eyes with Duke Claudas before opening his mouth.

"My Lord, the distributed accounts weren't that extensive. Why are there no reports stating that they have already gathered enough firepower to, at the least, conduct a raid successfully? I do not recall poring over the datum relating that the Barbarians are gathering armoury." Baron Istani said, appearing betrayed.

"A-" The Baron contemplated in repeat regarding the repercussions if he blurted out the baseless assumption that he arrived at. Still, he mustered the courage to declare so, considering that he had nothing to lose anymore. "Are you attempting to endanger your people?"

All of a sudden, thirteen pairs of eyes hurled daggers at the Baron's vulnerable head. Baron Istani was hit with a wave of dread, clubbed by the resentment of several individuals. If there was still an orb of security within him, it already evaporated like a ghost that was chased by a blinding light.

While the intimidation was transpiring, the Emperor, who had his eyes closed, felt the need to take his exit. He was exhausted of conversing with the nobles from the instant that he woke up. The bedevilment of entertaining an audience full of personages who purely seek change for their personal gain added to his irritation.

"My knights, where are your courtesies?" As it will benefit the people gathered in the room, the Emperor reminded his knights of their duty to maintain civility.

In accordance with the Emperor's queried command, the tension duly dissipated. The entirety of the Knights of the Round Table, including the Prime Minister, faced their Monarch and, with their heads lowered, genuflected afore the throne.

"We apologize that our discipline was defunct, Your Majesty." Duke Claudas uttered the apology on behalf of the knights.

"Rounds, at ease. Duke Claudas, return to your post."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

The knights stood up in harmony once commanded, their movements free of hesitation -- a luxury for the courageous.

Meanwhile, Baron Istani couldn't discern whether to express his gratitude or to remain motionless. He patted himself on the back for carrying-off the right choice, to do nothing, when the Emperor addressed him forthwith.

"Baron Merlon Istani, I presume you are aware that my men have the propensity to disperse any intelligence report coming from my palace to both Fief Lords and the citizens." The Emperor's voice, reverberating within the four marbled walls, served to agitate the convictions of the Baron.

"I am a- aware, Your Majesty." Even supposing that it was with a quivering utterance, the Baron deserved an applause for capably giving a rejoinder to the Emperor.

Laggardly opening his eyes, the Emperor sighed prior to landing his gaze on the Baron's lowered head, speaking thereafter, "According to what you have said, if we revealed that the Barbarians were gathering weapons, how would the citizens react? For certain, they'd either disregard the reportage or incite panic by spreading rumours."

"If I may be so presumptuous, Your Majesty, not letting the people know about the current state of affairs will also prove to be efficient."

Instead of weighing the Baron's suggestion, the Emperor completely neglected him and went on with his speech.

"For a commoner, it takes less effort to accommodate terror than reason, widespread tattle than the buried truth. When this transpires, the citizens inhabiting the border, not the southeast alone but all around the Empire, would frantically arrange to travel further inland. A third of our roughly 6-billion population resides at the borders. Can you imagine the commotion that will ensue in due time? Who is to blame for every incident that would've transpired?"

At this point, Baron Istani's forehead depressed until it hit the carpeted floor. He could not stomach the mortification of his incompetence emerging in a discussion that concerned the peace of his fief. He didn't answer when he was finally questioned lest uttering statements that would make him appear even more foolish.

"The binder for a peaceful co-existence between the aristocrats and the populace is trust. The public's prosperity should be in our best interest. Let the masses live sans any worries. Let them be assured of the fact that the Empire is prepared to fight for their peace."

The Emperor's remarks thoroughly chipped off the self-esteem of Baron Istani who felt lost. The Baron ceded putting forward his self-interests and joined his hands in the act of prayer, besieging the Emperor with his request.

"Your Majesty, the father of our Empire, I beg of you, save my people. They are blindly suffering from fear and hunger. I do not mind losing territory, just save my people. I beg of you!"

Tears began to flood the rims of Baron Istani's eyes, though he did try to do his utmost to hold them back. His head was filled with a single statement, repeating over and over, 'What land, what power?! If I don't have my people, I'd rather have my title stripped off.'

Without a delay, the Emperor ordered, pressed to discuss another matter with his knights alone, "Arise, Baron Merlon Istani."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The Baron did as he was told. He soon fixed his posture apart from his eyes that were bloodshot.

"The moment you ventured for the capital, Pandora, Duke Helian's knight order, took over the assignment of protecting the Istani Fief. Rescue operations for your army were also conducted. Provisions for the citizens have been distributed. For now, go back to your residence. We will discuss the minute details once you've had a good rest."

An unexplainable relief engulfed the enormous trepidation that suffocated the Baron once the Emperor finished his monologue.

"As you wish, Your Majesty. I will take my leave. Glory to the covenant. May our Empire prosper in perpetuity." Baron Merlon Istani bent his body forward to give one last bow to the Emperor. Then, he briskly treaded his way out of the room.

He left the Emperor, the Prime Minister, and the Knights of the Round Table The Emperor, who abided their time through solitude for a while sans any motion and sound. They wanted to make sure that nobody was sneaking around to spy on them.

Thereupon a couple of minutes, the Emperor interrupted their repose.

"Rehael, Leliel, care to explain?"

Every individual present in the room knew what the Emperor was pertaining to, a mysterious smile painted on their faces. Then and there, two knights walked out from their respective ranks and gave their respects to the Emperor.

"We're duly remorseful of the blunder we have catalyzed, Your Majesty." A female knight spoke up, earning the Emperor's curiosity.

"I expected for the both of you to heed to our original plans. What made you deviate?"

"Yes, we are conscious of our timeline, Your Majesty. We agreed to commence an attack on the Istani Fief thirty-five diers from now. However, the leader of one group wanted to prove his capability to us, so he resolved to strike earlier than the rest."

"Is that acceptable? I thought the two of you were enough to govern them. Did I overestimate your abilities?"

"No, Your Majesty." The female knight proceeded to glare at her companion, glints of disdain swam in her pupils ahead of resuming her clarification.

"The problem was that Lord Lamorak immersed himself in a competition with the said leader -- A competition of who will inflict the most damage. I can honestly say that these monstrous bastards took graceless pleasure in going wild."