The double doors to the council chamber opened to a grand room that beckoned Argrave in with a deafening silence. There must have been three hundred people in Leopold’s council room. It was certainly a place built to accommodate banquets and councils. The Dandalan patrician stood just beside the door, gesturing for him to enter in the reigning quietude.
Looking around, Argrave felt he was in some sort of Roman senate. Four marble pillars held up the ceiling twenty feet above. There was a great mahogany ring table in the center of the room, split at four sections as if by a cross to allow people to move past. Inside this ring, there was a large round table bearing a parchment map of Vasquer, masterfully painted and tied to the table. If viewed from above, the arrangement probably looked like a target.
“This man is the reason I believe Relize should have a leader at present,” Leopold declared loudly. His voice had a markedly different intonation to it than it had in normal conversation—this was his political tone, Argrave supposed. “Gentlemen of the Grand Council, I introduce to you Argrave… the man who will be king of Vasquer.”
Argrave scanned the room as people stared and talked. The expressions were many—revelatory, shocked, or simply the smugness that came with knowing this was coming. But there was judgement. Judgement was all they had, for now. And Argrave, standing arm-in-arm with Anneliese, stood proud in the black and gold garb of Relize, his fiancée beside him in white and amber like contrast to his own figure.
“Leopold,” Argrave dipped his head slightly, feeling a bit small without the tellerbarret he’d been wearing. A bare head would add dramatic effect later. “Leaders of Relize. I am glad of the opportunity to speak with you here today.”
Leopold nodded at Argrave and then turned back to the council. “By now, you’ve gleaned why I sought to host this council after the unfortunate accident in the Assembly. I will not apologize for what I’ve done, but I must beg forgiveness for concealing my intent. But given what Trumat Yiasten has brought here—or rather, whom—I believe I am wholly justified in doing so.”
The patrician that Leopold called up raised his head up and shifted, obviously uncomfortable at being called out.
“I mean no offense towards the delegates of Atrus. You are welcome here,” Leopold said accommodatingly.
Count Edgar Yiasten, a white-haired older man Argrave recognized, held his hand up. “Thank you, Leopold. But allow me to clarify… Atrus did not send us here to gain Relize’s allegiance to our kingdom. We merely sought… to verify your position. We hope our presence here won’t impede things in your leadership,” he said diplomatically.
So… Elenore persuaded them to stay neutral, or that was their intent from the beginning. They aren’t backing Trumat. Wish I knew more, Argrave lamented in his head.
“Wonderful,” Leopold nodded and clasped his hands together. “We have been discussing minor disputes in Relize—tolls charged improperly, rivals raided, petty thefts, embezzlements… but now, it is time to speak of the elephant in the room. We need leadership for the war. If we do not have it, this city will tear itself apart by feuding factions, each backing different sides in the war. This cannot happen,” Leopold declared firmly.
Silence took over the council room. Then, Trumat Yiasten stepped forward, asking somewhat haughtily, “Are you done, Leopold? If you are, then I will simply declare this—I agree with you in that Relize needs a leader. Disunity in war could devastate the city, its population, and many burgeoning industries. Yet we of Relize stick to our own devices. We need, just as Atrus has established, a figurehead to keep us far from the war. Playing kingmaker is folly. We do not need a leader who has already sworn fealty to a claimant.”
“I agree,” an aged patrician contributed. “We have no place in war. We are traders. Outside of Relize, our status is that of a common man. And the common man does not mingle with the elite.”
“And how long must things remain the same?” Drudeth of House Rotswell contributed, making Argrave hide a smile. “You must be blind to think Leopold would act without an intent to benefit. He was made a patrician in his lifetime, yet already his family stands shoulder-to-shoulder with us of the Grand Council. We meet within his home. I trust Leopold. And I hear the south is strongly predisposed to Argrave already—would it not be best to support the inevitable victor?”
Trumat shook his head and said, “Leopold acts to benefit himself, not Relize. I’m sure—”
“I have worked out arrangements with Argrave, yes. What did I request of you?” Leopold interrupted and looked to Argrave.
Argrave held up his left arm as he talked, the other linked with Anneliese’s. “Leopold requested I lift trade restrictions, tolls, and tariffs imposed by Induen and Felipe. I agreed. Leopold requested I grant the Grand Council of Relize governance of certain ports in the North Sea. I agreed. And lastly, he requested a marriage for himself—someone of my choosing. I agreed.”
Some of the patricians laughed at hearing Leopold’s request for a marriage—the man had a reputation, it would seem.
Argrave held his hand up and declared, “It’s not my place to meddle in your politics. This city is self-governing, and I would not change that. But all of you have suffered beneath the yolk of my father and his former heir. I, alone, have the capability and the desire to change that. No others vying for the throne can offer that.”
“No one has paid these tariffs since the war started,” one patrician pointed out.
“And after?” Nicolesa jumped in and pointed out. “Like it or not, we are beholden to the might of Vasquer. If we choose prudently, we can benefit. If we remain neutral, things remain as they are… or grow worse, depending on who the throne falls to. Their military has always protected us. It can devastate Relize just as easily.”
“Things are different now,” an old man spoke quietly, and though others spoke at the same time, they fell silent for the man in a show of respect. Argrave recognized him—Potien of House Contini, one of the more respected patricians. “Relize has grown and prospered. Our city is larger in population than the greatest of those in Vasquer, and each of us patricians have retinues that rival those of mainland nobles. We are a pivotal part of Vasquer. Any that take the throne must respect us—indeed, two would-be-kings or their delegates have sought us out of their own volition.
“If we remain as we are… the lives of our own will be spared. Our ships will head not to war, but to trade. And at the end of it all, we rejoin the fold, welcomed. And we will be welcomed because we are needed,” Potien finished, voice a thin whisper.
The respect the man’s word had was clear. Everyone seemed to digest his words like they had great meaning, even the ones Argrave thought firmly in his camp.
“And… meaning no offense, Argrave,” Potien continued. “So long as the south has not openly declared their support, their ‘positive predisposition’ towards you means nothing.” The patrician shook his head. “In addition… the one at your side. There has never before been an elven queen in Vasquer history. This speaks ill of your chances.”
Argrave looked to Anneliese, and she nodded. Argrave released his grip and she stepped away, heading off to a door.
“Your concerns are justified. It’s easy to remain comfortable, keep the status quo alive. And yet… since the war began, none of you can deny the fact that it has hurt Relize,” Argrave spread his arms out, walking around. When none protested, he continued, “Regardless of the lack of tariff collectors, or taxes, or tolls… the war has given rise to a great loss of business. It’s not safe to travel—no doubt your goods have been seized, either by bandits or feudal lords seeking to commandeer supplies for the coming difficulties.”
Argrave saw bitter looks pass through the faces of some—no doubt he’d brought up some bad memories.
“Relize has grown powerful. I will not blunt my words—I am here because this city has a great impact on the direction of the war. The south will come to support me, yet Relize is a force every bit as potent as the Margrave’s army. That is why I have come here,” Argrave put his hand to his chest. “When I met with Leopold, he expressed disdain for having to get involved in this at all. And I agree with him.”
Argrave stepped past the segmented ring table, moving around as he declared, “The fact is, my father, the king of Vasquer, broke his vows as a king to protect the people. For years, he has trampled on the people using his son as a cudgel.” Argrave pointed to a man who’d spoken earlier. “You claimed the common man does not mingle with the elite. And you, Potien—you rightfully pointed out that many of the patricians present here today rival mainland nobles in terms of military might. This has arisen because of changing times.”
“I believe in the king’s vows—to protect the people, to govern them justly, and to strive for prosperity in the realm. The fact remains, though… these vows were broken. And not for the first time.” Argrave pounded his chest. “I say that this cannot happen ever again. And consequently, I have a reform in mind.”
Doors opened, and Anneliese returned bearing two things—a black mantle with the symbol of Vasquer on it, and the ornate crown of the first king of Vasquer.
“I have recovered the crown of the first king of Vasquer, alongside the regalia that he wore throughout his reign. And yet… I will hold no coronation, not yet. Something needs to happen, first.” Argrave held out his hand and received the objects from Anneliese. He set them upon the table and looked around.
“A king needs wise council. Not just from his noble base, nor from the gods… but from all the people of his realm. Despite your influence in this city, and despite your contributions to the crown and the people, the common man does not mingle with the elite. This must change.” Argrave planted one finger atop the crown.
“I intend to establish a Parliament of Vasquer,” Argrave declared loudly. “In it, men of influence will have a say in governance. Seats in this parliament will be open to all, regardless of the nobility of their blood or the divinity of their station. And above all… this parliament will retain the right to confirm a new king’s succession.”
There are a lot of amazing administrators here. You think I’m not going to make use of you? You’re going to turn Vasquer into an economic powerhouse, and you’re going to like it, Argrave thought of the real purpose behind this decision. He genuinely felt this parliament could do a great deal in developing Vasquer.
Argrave lifted his finger off the crown. “To prove my commitment to this reform, I have a request. I intend to have a coronation. I hope it to be a public affair, with many of the people I intend to protect and govern in attendance. And I hope that all of you members of the Grand Council will be the ones to place this crown upon my brow and promulgate my desire to all willing to hear. To that end… I leave this ancient relic here, until you decide to place it upon my brow.” Argrave stepped away from the crown. “Please, make the right decision for the realm and the people.”
It seemed none dared to speak in the silence that followed. Leopold took light steps up to Argrave. “Do we all agree to reconvene in a week to decide this matter?”
Slowly, a vote was taken. With Argrave’s closing speech and Leopold’s suggestion, all seemed willing to step aside and get a hold of things. The council promised to send someone to retrieve the crown for safekeeping, and Argrave agreed. Before long, the councilors cleared out, and a tired Leopold stepped up to Argrave.
“You did well. As much as I wish I could force them to make a decision now, such is not how the Grand Council works. It is a slow-moving behemoth of an organization, which suitably demonstrates why a leader is necessary in times of war,” the old patrician said tiredly. “Now… the real politicking begins. Gods, but it will be busy…”
Argrave raised a brow. “Busier than today? I’ve got brain pain.”
“Busier for me. I have to show the more financially interested patricians why exactly it was I married my children off to common merchants.” Leopold straightened his back. “I’ll put the squeeze on them, offer opportunities to them, bribe them… and you’ll go door-to-door, selling your monarchy like a common good. I’m sure everyone is desperate to pick your brain about this parliament.” Leopold eyed him. “You’re serious about being coronated by the Grand Council?”
“I am,” Argrave nodded.
Leopold stroked his beard. “Then perhaps I should call you more than a mere claimant.”
Argrave frowned. “What does that mean?”
“That’s for me to know,” Leopold declared. “Go on, sleep. Ansgar told me how much you drank—don’t know how you’re holding together, frankly… that was my good wine, cost me a lot…”
Argrave laughed. “I’m perfectly sober. I’m built different, you see.” He dipped his head to the older man. “As for going door-to-door, selling things… I have a different idea. I think I’m going to make it impossible for them not to choose me. Everyone loves a hero, after all.”
It was Leopold’s turn to frown. “Don’t ruin things with that big head of yours. People that speak like that end up in a gutter, in my experience.”