Chapter 54. Perfect Adaptation
Aron leisurely looked around at the senators and spoke in a clear voice that filled the entire chamber.
“I’d like to give our honorable senators a gift.”
“A… gift, you say?”
“Since fate has brought us together like this, it’s also meant as a sign that we should work well together from here on.”
“What should we prepare?”
Dyke cautiously asked, a puzzled look in his eyes. There must have been some reason for this, but he could not fully grasp the commander’s intent.
“There’s that liquor, the one brought from the Empire for the commander’s exclusive use, isn’t there?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve brought only the best quality from the Empire, so I think that will make a fine gift.”
Aron smiled faintly as he issued the order to Dyke.
“Prepare it so that each senator receives a bottle.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Ah.”
As he gave the order, Aron suddenly put on a serious expression and turned his gaze toward the senators.
He twisted one corner of his lips upward, forming a faint smile that carried a chilling undertone. The senators stiffened at once and strained their ears.
“But it must be rather difficult for our noble senators to carry the bottles themselves, wouldn’t you agree? Aide Dyke.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“It will be troublesome, but find out the location of each senator’s residence and personally deliver the bottles.”
Finally understanding what Aron truly meant, Dyke relaxed his previously rigid expression. He nodded firmly and responded in a loud voice.
“Yes, I will obey.”
Just one bottle of liquor.
It weighed nothing, posed no difficulty—yet it was only an excuse.
With the commander’s gift came Imperial soldiers sent to the senators’ estates. Soldiers marching into households full of families and retainers.
And if anything were to happen to the Commander, or if he gave the order, those soldiers would act immediately.
The senators’ faces turned pale as they realized the meaning. It was as though a blade rested against their throats.
This was an even greater threat than allowing soldiers directly into the chamber.
Fear, masked as peace, filled the hall.
Thud.
The door shut after Dyke stepped back, having taken the commander’s weapon with him. Only after confirming their departure did Aron casually take a seat, as though he had entered his own office—confident and at ease.
Unlike the senators, whose faces had gone ashen, Aron wore a relaxed smile.
“Now then, shall we begin the meeting peacefully? A democratic debate, as it were…”
Aron tilted his head and stroked his chin.
“It feels unfamiliar since such things were rare in the Empire, but I trust the seasoned senators of Iorenti will guide us well.”
Of course, in the direction I want.
Before announcing the agenda, Aron recapped the current state of Iorenti.
“As you know, the Empire of Shtilaitz has won the recent war against Iorenti.”
Though his voice was calm, his sharp gaze swept across the senators.
Who is it?
Who is Afran?
Who is Giuliano?
His crescent-shaped smile belied eyes sharpened enough to cut skin.
“The victorious Shtilaitz Empire has decided, out of magnanimity, to recognize Iorenti’s autonomy and settle matters peacefully.”
One of the seasoned senators quietly spoke.
“And what conditions accompany that?”
“Your name?”
“Diamante Giuliano.”
“Ah. Lord Giuliano.”
The commander, meeting Giuliano for the first time, let out a soft exclamation.
Despite Aron’s seemingly arrogant demeanor, Giuliano remained calm and composed, seasoned by years of politics.
“So you are Lord Giuliano. I’ve heard much about you.”
Aron scrutinized him. The gentle wrinkles on his face reflected a long life, and his hair was dusted with white like fallen snow.
Surely he wasn’t the same Giuliano whose name Delia uttered with her lips?
Aron narrowed his eyes, recalling how Delia would clutch his hair whenever she kissed him.
Though the lifeless white of Giuliano’s hair could never compare to Delia’s shining silver locks, just hearing her lips speak Giuliano’s name was enough to make Aron seethe with displeasure.
Suppressing his irritation, Aron continued calmly, mindful of Delia’s wish for peace in Iorenti.
“The condition is that the regent chosen by the Empire will be recognized, and that person will also be appointed as an honorary senator with the right to attend Iorenti’s national council.”
Regent? Honorary senator?
The senators erupted with murmurs, on the verge of heated debate once again.
But Aron was quicker.
“And.”
“And? There is more?”
At Giuliano’s question, Aron nodded.
This was the most important condition to him.
“To formally declare the end of war between the two nations and secure peace, I propose a marriage alliance.”
Silence descended on the hall until Giuliano’s calm voice rang out.
“But…”
Aron’s eyebrow twitched. As expected, he was the problem.
“But?”
Despite the chill radiating from Aron, Giuliano spoke steadily.
“Iorenti cannot easily comply with the Empire’s demand.”
“How dare you…”
Aron almost barked a command, but he held himself back and inhaled deeply.
Right—our princess said debate was necessary.
I must persuade them, step by step, and win the votes.
Forcing a smile, Aron asked again.
“And why is that?”
“Because the one who would stand in such a marriage alliance is absent. Regrettably, we cannot comply with the Empire’s demand.”
“So the person in question must be present for such a decision?”
“Of course. One cannot speak of a marriage alliance without the parties themselves.”
Aron rubbed his wrinkled brow.
The Queen was keeping the princess locked away, unable to attend the meeting. And now they demanded her presence.
He was already growing tired of these democratic procedures.
“Let us skip such tedious formalities.”
“Tedious formalities? This is a grave pact between nations. It cannot be promised on behalf of someone absent.”
“The person in question only needs to be present at the wedding, no?”
“What if it’s uncertain whether she can even stand at the wedding? How could we promise a marriage alliance then?”
Aron’s brow twitched again.
Why? Do they plan to steal our princess away before the wedding?
Clenching his fist, Aron was about to lash out when the King, sensing danger, spoke first.
“Lord Giuliano. Why do you believe the party cannot stand at the wedding?”
Giuliano looked at him, puzzled.
“Has not Crown Prince Alfredo been missing since the battle with the Empire?”
At Giuliano’s absurd words, Aron jerked his head up.
He shook it emphatically.
“I have no interest in the Crown Prince.”
“What? Then the Empire seeks to take our heir apparent hostage through this marriage?”
The very thought was horrifying.
To think they would try to bind him to a runaway prince who fled battle.
Aron raised his hand, cutting Giuliano off.
“I want the Princess of Iorenti.”
The chamber erupted in shock.
“Then Her Highness’s partner is…”
“Me.”
“Then the regent the Empire intends to appoint is…”
“Yes, also me.”
The chamber broke into chaos.
“What? A marriage with the Princess? To the Commander?”
“So the Commander will remain in Iorenti as regent?”
“Wouldn’t that weaken our voice with Imperial interference?”
“This cannot be accepted.”
“Then perhaps Lord Afran would like to try fighting them himself.”
“How strange… I thought surely they’d demand our Crown Prince.”
“Regardless, we need the Empire’s support. Didn’t Boswell and Pever form an alliance?”
“The Empire’s proposal is best—securing peace through marriage.”
“Your Majesty, were you aware of this?”
“Is that why the Princess is absent from today’s meeting…?”
Voices overlapped in a cacophony of confusion until one senator raised his hand to address the King.
“Your Majesty.”
All eyes turned toward him.
“Lord Afran, speak.”
Even in the chaos, the name pierced Aron’s ears.
So this is Afran.
The belligerent, stubborn one.
Though short in stature, his sharp eyes and firmly set mouth spoke of strength. He seemed obstinate to the core, unlike the older Giuliano—much younger, too.
Even under Aron’s deadly gaze, Afran asked boldly:
“Does Her Highness the Princess know of the Empire’s demand?”
“The Princess understands the situation fully and has accepted it.”
Afran swallowed hard at the King’s answer.
It seemed the royal family had already reached their conclusion.
Into that silence Aron swiftly stepped.
“Then, as we’ve debated thoroughly, let us vote by majority.”
He fixed his gray eyes on each senator in turn.
“The proposal is this: approve the Commander of the Shtilaitz Empire as regent, and through the marriage of Princess Iorenti and Duke Bergen, form a marital alliance between the Empire and Iorenti. Any objections?”
Of course, no one could raise their hand.
Iorenti had already lost.
And more than that—the thought of Imperial soldiers arriving at their homes with “gifts” weighed their hands down.
“Unanimous. Passed.”
Never once in Iorenti’s history had there been a unanimous vote.
“It seems I’ve adapted perfectly to Iorenti.”
Aron smiled with satisfaction at the senators.
“To win unanimous agreement through debate and persuasion—remarkable.”
The absurdity of the regent’s words drew hollow laughter from the senators.
But Aron paid them no mind. His thoughts were elsewhere.
I must tell our princess this news myself.
That I refrained from bringing weapons and soldiers into the chamber, just as she asked.
That I didn’t kill the senators, and instead had a peaceful dialogue.
But with the Queen around, will I even get to see her?
Aron stroked his chin in thought, then leaned slightly toward the King.
With a sly smile, he whispered into the King’s ear:
“Your Majesty, do you have any plans to take the Queen outside the palace on an inspection tour?”
