The storm was still going strong. Elendin is plagued by thoughts and isn't able to fall asleep easily. The boy trashes around his bed, trying to find a comfortable position... to no avail. He hopes his new advisers have a better night then he does. After a couple of hours, the young boy finally falls asleep. But even asleep, nightmares haunt him...

Elendin springs up from bed as soon as the sun rays touch his face. He had to be well prepared for the upcoming first meeting. He picks up the piece of paper from the table next to his bed. It contained the most prominent issues that plagued the Empire. His uncle had written it up for him and these were to be discussed. He had read them all over multiple times over the last couple of days, but he was still afraid of doing it wrong. Elendin shakes his head and goes to prepare for the meeting.
After being dressed by his servants and a quick (but luxurious) breakfast later, Elendin sends out multiple servants to gather his advisers and other important figures. There was much to do today, and there was no time for dilly-dallying.

The advisers are quickly round up and brought to the Chamber of Council. It is a large, round chamber with a dome as roof. The dome is decorated with small faces of several Paragons. It is said that the Paragons watch over the decisions the emperor makes, and that thus, it cannot be wrong.
In the middle of the room stands a large triangular table with flat points. At each point stands a seat. Two of the seats have already been taken, the third one is empty. In the fist seat sits a woman of elderly age. She wears a white robe and an iron tiara. Some of the advisers may know her as Tirgana Doms, ecclesiarch of the Belief of Man. Ice cold eyes observe the advisers as they enter the large room one by one.
In the other chair sits a man of middle-age. He has a large brown beard and wears golden gilded plate armor. On the left armchair rests a helmet with a large feather sticking out. This would be Oldavan Rigter, grand-general of the Imperial Army. It is up to him to raise the levies of all the Provinces and coordinate them properly. This man seems a bit warmer then Tirgana and he greets every adviser properly. He even gives Bastien a smack on the shoulder and a firm handshake as he praises the Dieuporteille soldiers
The third chair isn't really a chair, but rather a less extravagant version of the throne in the the throne room. Through deduction, most advisers come to the conclusion that the emperor will sit there.
Between the points are seven chairs in total, meant for the advisers. On the table, in front of each chair stands a cup of wine and paper, ink and quill.

As the advisers sit down, the time passes. After some time the large doors to the Chamber of Council open up. Emperor Elendin enters, flanked by two royal guards, wearing long spears and golden armor. They both wear a red cape with the weapon of house Aventash emblazoned on it. Next to, but a bit behind the emperor walks Rurik Aventash. Ever following his emperor. The boy tries not to look nervous, but fails to do so as drops of sweat collect above his lip. He strides down the stairs and sits down in the last remaining chair. The guards position themselves behind the chair, while Rurik stands next it.

"Welcome to the Chamber of Council. It is here that the many decisions, that shaped our empire, were taken. I hope you all have slept well, and I apologize for dragging you to your duties so early. He points at Tirgana and Oldavan at the same time. Some may know these individuals already, other perhaps not. They are the Holders of Faith and Sword. Tirgana, ecclesiarch of the Belief of Man." The woman gives a slight nod in acknowledgement. "And Oldavan, grand-general of the Imperial Army. Some of you might wonder why the table has this shape. The table symbolizes the unity of the crown, sword and faith, with the Provinces as their connections and..." Rurik leans in, whispering something in the ears of Elendin who close his mouth and looks down at the ground in response. "I... Yes. Let us move to the business at hand."

Elendin grabs into his robes, revealing a piece of paper. As he unfolds it, his hands shake visibly. "V-Very well. The first topic at hand. The minor province cluster on our western borders have let out a call for independence. They do not believe me fit to rule. ℬastien de Warenne, you have probably received reports earlier this month about military activities in these regions. If our sources are to be believed, the provinces in question are Brevash, Comtè, Pelinque and Irva. Reports suggest that some higher nobles have taken the reigns, and that the ruling counts have nothing to do with this deceleration, but sources are vague and nothing is confirmed. Well then, my advisers, friends... How do we deal with this before it turns into a civil war?!" The boy slams his fist on the table, the sound echoing throughout the chamber till it eventually dies down...

---

In the wake of the dying echo, the doors suddenly burst open. A young man walks up to one of the guards and whispers something in his ear. The guard in turn, walks up to Elendin and conveys the message. The eyes of the young emperor sadden and he rubs his left temple with one hand. He thanks the guard and the messenger and turns his attention back to the council. "It appears matters are worse then we thought. There have been sightings of large armies at the borders of Dieuporteille and Garron de Warenne, Exarch of Dieuporteille, has asked to send ℬastien de Warenne back, so he can deal with this personally. Now, I do not know if you'd agree with me, but I think it's the best option. This way there is a representative of me directly on the battlefield." Elendin picks up a piece of paper and begins to scribble on it. When he's done he drops some wax on it and pushes a ring in it, leaving the Royal Seal. "Take these, ℬastien de Warenne, and ride westward with haste. Your exarch exclaimed urgency."

ℬastien de Warenne get's up, nears the king, receives the paper and bows one last time. "I shall not let you down, milord. I will crush this rebellion with little effort. In honor of Saint Michél and house Aventash!" With one last bow, the knight departs... never to be seen again.

As Grenn made his way to the Chamber of Council Sabine Sydow suddenly appears from an alcove to walk beside him. Her slender legs
easily keeping pace with Grenn’s stride. Her cold eyes staring front as she speaks up.

“Comtè, Brevash maybe Irva even. Like we thought.”

“Ungrateful fucks, don’t get a chair on the big table and they start squealing like spoiled children. If they would’ve given those
provinces to my brother…”

“I know, set it to your advantage.”

She turned left where the Chamber of Council was ahead and Grenn didn’t stop his stride, they were never the pair for ‘goodmornings’. He entered the chambers without slowing down only coming to a halt as he was at one of the chairs.

“Ecclessiarch,-“ Grenn bowed his head “Paragons guide us.”
He then turned to Oldavan, not suppressing a mischievous smile.
“Grand-General.”

He and the General had some history during a previous rebellion, where the trustworthiness and behaviour of Grenn’s men was topic of heated discussion. The rebellion finally died in the Driftmark under the Iron Sovereigns hands even though Oldavan wanted to pursue in force. Grenn liked the man, even though it was completely not mutual.

Ella stretched after the knock came from her door. "What is it now?" she whined, reaching for her hand mirror. "The King requests your presence, m'lady." came the reply. Looking into the mirror she realized if she wasnt there soon, it would be a repeat of yesterday. She quickly scrambled out of bed and grabbed her best silks from her dresser and hurriedly put them on. After that, she lifted the flowery head dress from her night stand and placed it in her hair. Due to her rushing, she didnt appear as stunning as she had yesterday, but it would do. Opening the door, she saw that the man who had awoken her was Wauter, her personal assistant. he was now dressed in an extravagant tunic that the king had obviously provided for him, since he had come with only his rags and some armor.

They made haste for the Chamber of Council, where the king would be waiting. They arrived there before most of the other advisers but not before Grenn. Ella walked in and gave Grenn a playful pat on the back, "Get a good night's sleep?" she teased, knowing most of the other advisers had likely talked to one another last night, behind the backs of the others. She then walked over and took a seat next to the empty point where the king would sit, on the side that Oldavan was on. Wauter nervously followed behind her, unsure if he was allowed to be present during the debates. To keep himself out of trouble, he stood next to the door so he could exit swiftly if asked.

---

---

Layna immediately got dressed, opened the door and followed the two soldiers that had come to escort her to the Chamber of Council. On the way there, she thought about her next steps. She had to tread carefully if she wanted her plans to come to fruition. Although that brief meeting had given her a valuable future asset, that didn't mean that asset was exclusive to her. "Father..." Layna thought how her father would react should he know her real motives in obtaining this advisor position.

After five minutes of walking, the trio reached the Chamber of Council. "This is as far as we go, my Lady," the soldier told her and bowed respectfully while making way for her to pass. Layna nodded and entered the room. The first thing that caught her attention was the triangular table. "It's not every day you see one of these..." Layna mused silently as she walked to her seat. "Ecclesiarch, General." Layna respectfully greeted the two big wigs of the Council before sitting down in her seat. Back when she escorted her father on business trips to the capital, Layna had come in brief contact with the two and although she wouldn't say she was on close terms with them, they were indeed acquaintances.

She threw Grenn a knowing look and then turned her attention to the girl who seemed to have arrived just before her, seeing as she was still fiddling with her chair. Layna did not give much thought to the rest of the advisors as they came in and opted to remain silent until the King arrived. Soon enough, after every advisor had gathered inside the Chamber, Elendin entered the room, closely followed by Rurik.

Layna stood up, like the rest of the people in the room, to greet the King before sitting down once again. She looked at Elendin as he nervously read out the first topic of the day. The kid was obviously not ready to rule, and everyone in this room knew that. Nevertheless, they kept up appearances and awaited the King to articulate the topic.

"A rebellion, hmm? Those nobles are certainly eager to show their true colors..." Layna simply said out loud. It was at that time that a messenger barged into the room hurriedly and gave the king a report. When he read the contents of the letter out loud, Layna was taken aback. "Truly, they are too hasty!" she thought. "They must think that because they are four against one, the Dieuporteilian soldiers won't stand a chance. Laughable," she smiled and lowered her head, looking at the papers in front of her.

However, when de Warenne was called up by the King and was ordered back to his province, Layna raised her head in shock. "Oh! Why, this truly changes things!" Layna exclaimed inwardly and looked at Grenn with a smile.

Late that night, long after Torinus had returned from his meeting with Rurik, and after Laxion and his son had washed themselves and gotten into cleaner clothing, Laxion sat reading at his desk. On Kingship sat open before him and he read once more the passages and pages which had caught his eye on his first reading earlier in the night.



Laxion turned the pages until he came to the fifteenth chapter and read through some of the more interest tracts in that, also.



Once more Laxion turned the pages and came upon the passages discussing compassion and cruelty.



Laxion at last pushed the tome away and got to his feet. Blowing out the few candles which sat on the desk, he moved out of the large study and into the bedroom. He closed and locked the door and hid the key in a designated location before checking up on Torinus, who was sat up in his bed, a candle on the bedside table and a little book in his hands.
'Reading so late, Torinus?' he asked gently. The boy looked up, with his sleepy eyes and yawned.
'Yesh, jus some...some things I wan-wanted to read up on...before bed,' the boy's reply came. Laxion chuckled and moved towards the boy. He took the book from him and put the dry leaf Torinus used as a marker within before closing the book and putting it beside the candle.
'We have much to do on the morrow, and your friend does not want to meet with me until after noon, so you will have much time to read in the morning,' with that, Laxion ruffled the boy's hair, tucked him in, and blew out the candle. And soon enough, the old man was also asleep in his bed.

Knocking came early the next morning and Laxion, having been sat in his new study, did not hear it. Torinus did, however, and notified his father that the council had been convened and Laxion had been called. Laxion was not one for hurry, and so he and his boy readied themselves and ensured they were as presentable as befit ones who would soon show themselves before the King. Torinus grabbed his little book and ran along behind Laxion as the old man took his might strides towards the famed Chamber of Council. And though the guards attempted to stop Torinus from sneaking in with his father, he flashed them a disarming smile and stuck close to Laxion. The other advisers had all taken their seats, but Laxion remained standing, waiting on the king to enter and sit first. Like Torinus, he allowed his eyes to take in the beauty of this place - and he ascertained, in that moment, that it was more beautiful than the descriptions and attempts at drawing it; and the blueprints he had seen did the mosaics and icons of past Paragons no justice. Other than the icons, intricate patterns flowed across the dome and Laxion knew this to be an Andalujan influence, for in place of icons and statues they had intricate patterns and geometrics marvels back home. And each was an exquisite and elevated form of divine art!

His eyes then drifted over the advisers, nodding to each respectfully in turn. And when his eyes met steely blue Tirgana Doms', he paused. There was a gravity in her eyes which made even one so old as he feel like a newborn babe. Holding her gaze, he slowly bowed his head and looked at the last person seated in the room. He had been talking with Bastien when Laxion walked in, but had quitened down now. He flashed Laxion a ruddy smile, but something within Laxion did not quite feel at ease with his warmth. Something about it felt...off. It was as though Tirgana Doms' steely eyes held more true warmth than this man's. But Laxion curbed his thoughts and withheld judgement. Noticing the cup of wine on the table, he picked it up and handed it to Torinus, who immediately went with it to one of the servants and asked her for a replacement.
'The Lord Adviser Laxion imbibes water only, and freshly squeezed juice on special occasions,' the boy whispered to her. She soon returned with a new cup, filled to the brim with crystal clear water, which Torinus took from her and put on the table before his father.

Soon thereafter, the King swept into the room and took up his place upon the small-scale throne, with Lord Rurik and two guards taking their positions behind His Majesty. With that, Laxion took his seat and Torinus stood by his right shoulder and tried to be as invisible as he could possibly be. Out of habit, the old man brought the paper, inkpot and quill closer to him.

"Welcome to the Chamber of Council. It is here that the many decisions, that shaped our empire, were taken. I hope you all have slept well, and I apologize for dragging you to your duties so early,' with that he gestured to the two sat to either side of him and continued, 'some may know these individuals already, other perhaps not. They are the Holders of Faith and Sword. Tirgana, Ecclesiarch of the Belief of Man." The woman surveyed them all before giving a slight nod in acknowledgement. 'And Oldavan, Grand-General of the Imperial Army.'
At this, the Boy-King paused and suddenly launched into an explanation of why the table was the shape it was, to Laxion's slight pleasure and surprise.
'The table symbolizes the unity of the crown, sword, and faith - with the Provinces as their connections and...' but a swift word from Rurik caused Elendin to quickly quieten and move on quickly. He pulled out a piece of paper and revealed that a rebellion was underway in the westernmost provinces of Brevash, Comtè, Pelinque and Irva.

'They do not believe me fit to rule. ℬastien de Warenne, you have probably received reports earlier this month about military activities in these regions. If our sources are to be believed, the provinces in question are Brevash, Comtè, Pelinque and Irva. Reports suggest that some higher nobles have taken the reigns, and that the ruling counts have nothing to do with this deceleration, but sources are vague and nothing is confirmed,' with this the young king looked around the table and made his plea, 'well then, my advisers, friends... How do we deal with this before it turns into a civil war!'

For some time Laxion merely listened, and he watched sadly as Ser Bastien left for the battlefield. Silence reigned and Laxion decided that this was the time for him to put forth his suggestion.
'Your Majesty, if I may,' he paused and waited on Elendin's approval before continuing, 'you are yet a new king, you have not the clout with the aristocracy that your father had. And you are also young, they do not deem you competent enough to rule over them. They have filled themselves with notions of glory and foolishly think that this is the time for them to strike. But little do they realise that they have given you the chance to establish your authority once and for all. A new king must not be kind. Kindness is the bane of kings. You must clamp down on them with all the mighty and power that you can muster, use unequal force and use all that the tools of statecraft offer you,' here he paused and looked around the table.
'Your Majesty must not simply rally your forces against the rebels, but must send emissaries to these counts who are yet loyal, and they must infiltrate the enemy ranks and lull them into a false sense of security and support. For coup-starters always face an uphill battle, and the advantages of betraying a coup in favour of the authorities are far greater than pushing through with it. We should let a skirmish or two take place, and we must crush them utterly, and when they have lost all hope, we must send to them emissaries telling them that the king tires of the bloodshed and will give them what they want. And we shall meet with them, in their own camp, to sign the treaty of peace, and we shall ensure that it is our loyal infiltrators who they bring with them. And, thinking that they have us within their grasp, we shall sieze them. Having cut the serpent's head, we can then make an example of them and all who followed them, and we must be merciless and brutal in this, else others shall also entertain similar delusions. We must be cruel and firm with these rebels, so that future blood may not be spilled, so that anarchy and chaos are nipped today and now so that they may never again raise their heads. And then, having known how merciless you are to your enemies, they will learn to appreciate your mercy and generosity when you choose to give it. And they may, in time, learn to love you. But first, let their hearts know fear, for as a wise man once said: Fear means punishment, and that's something people never forget. For people may, after having loved, forget to love, but fear is not so easily forgotten.'

With that, Laxion leaned back and was once more silent.

_{Disclaimer: All On Kingship extracts are adapted from Machiavelli's The Prince as translated by Tim Parks and are not the original work of Kho & Kho Ltd.}

Before the light of the sun crept through the window of his new chambers, Chugo's desk was illuminated by a candle. The Bey had his many vices, yet never had he lacked diligence. In his new position he had no time to dawdle, and so he had been long at work on his desk scrawling out letters to report back to the Khan, continuing to manage his estate, reading what news was sent to him, and formulating and rethinking his plans.

So when an attendant came to rap upon his door early in the morn, the man might have been surprised to find the Bey on his feet and opening the door within a few seconds. Already Chugo wore a garb of some of his most exquisite robes, and when the servant relayed the king's summons Chugo thanked him and closed the door. Not two minutes later, the door opened once more and Chugo strode confidently out. He was not the first to arrive despite having been perhaps the most prepared, for he had enjoyed a slow walk through the halls to admire the various tapestries and decorations throughout the castle.

So it was that he walked in precisely on time and seeming as carefree as one could imagine, for he didn't even bother to look around the room to observe his fellow advisers or either of the two faces that had not made an appearance the day prior. But appearances were deceiving; in reality the Bey was very perceptive to his surroundings and he took in every detail and examined every person...he just made a conscious effort to hide how he was sizing them all up. Slowly he walked around the table before he arrived at a seat directly opposite to that of Bastien de Warenne. He would not hide on the opposite side of the table from that fool, and after the incident in which the knight drew his sword, Chugo would just as well be sure to never let the Dieuporteillan out of his sight in meeting such as these.

The King began the meeting with a short oration that then transitioned into an introduction to the Gran General and some hag that they took for a holy woman. The Bey nodded in respect to the Grand General for he had heard of the man before, and he remained emotionless towards Tirgana. Chugo was not the most zealous man to begin with, and he knew all too well that a second 'insult' to the Faith of Man would be a grave mistake indeed. The king finally moved on to an awkward lecture on why the table had its shape, and then at the behest of Rurik's whisper the king abruptly stopped and moved on. 'Fools.'

Chugo attempted to keep his face placid as Elendin went on, but when mention of rebellion in the west came up his interest was visibly piqued. 'I had not heard word of that this morning...' he thought, but in the end such news was hardly surprising. If ever was a good time to rebel, it was now. Though he would speak nothing of it, indeed he knew that many voices among the Khanate agitated for independence as well.

Chugo was silent and gathered his thoughts for a moment after the King demanded his counsel from the advisers. Layna opened her mouth to spew out a few words that amounted to little more than useless drivel, and Chugo felt a mild longing to put the useless girl in her place, for women had no place in politics. And then came another courier, and Bastien was at once recalled to his homeland!

'An unexpected development and a welcome respite,' Chugo thought smugly, 'and I wonder if my men could make sure that he never reaches home...the fighting pits would pay well to own a man like him! No, too easy...let him slowly toil to death as a galley slave...'

Laxion meanwhile began his speech, and Chugo quickly snapped back into attention and listened. Afterwards, he shook his head in disagreement and spoke, "What the scholar speaks of is nothing less than treachery. To be sure, it would work and you'd kill them all. But never again would men trust your amnesty and never again would men dare surrender to you, for they would know that doing so only guarantees their death. You wind up with desperate men that will fight you until the bitter end.

The best approach is to offer them all the chance to show their loyalty, and then ruthlessly suppress those that would rise up. Why sully your reputation with betrayal and treachery when you can instead show your strength and win through brute force? I suggest that you simply send an army to the west to collect this year's taxes in full. The ones that pay will have proven their loyalty to the crown, or else funded the armies of the very empire that they intend to rebel against. I think the little lords will all be inclined to pay with an army at their doorstep, but should they dare refuse, simply execute them for traitors and seize their lands. Perhaps their holdings would be a suitable reward to those lords that do show their loyalty through gold."

Grenn was trying to keep to himself as the others came in, thinking over what the recent news could do for him. Ella Hallore disturbed this slightly with the "Get a good night's sleep?" remark. It took him a moment to come from his deep thoughts to reply:

'As good as it gets after a day of hard riding my Lady. Good thing you are a refreshing sight.'

He conjured up an ugly smile and watched the others come in. Nodding to most absentmindedly but showing his surprise as Chugo came in. He knew the King implied that the Khargat might’ve shown up as a councillor but still… When the King started his speech he tuned in fully. It was even more widespread than he had thought. But the bigger shock was Bastien leaving. His eyes sought Lady Farwynd immediately, but he didn’t share her smile. He had just lost a player he was counting on and things had to change quick. He waited with stating a response to let the others speak first but after the Khargat.

‘Both speak of solving this rebellion, but we lack to address the cause. The idea that you are a ten-year-old boy that the rebels in question think too weak to act against them.’

Grenn paused a moment for effect and took that time to stand up.

‘The way things work now my King is that any good decision you make here is credited to your advisers or your uncle,’ Grenn indicated both with his hands ‘but any failure will be attributed to you. You need to get ahead of this and show that you are a strong and - just leader.’

The slight pause was indication enough that Grenn had the most experience with the former.

‘I would advise that you apply military pressure in person. Negotiate in person and battle in person if must be. These rebels have
nothing that can threaten you. Going in person leaves the Grand General free to supress any rebellion that might sprout in their wake, for this won’t be the last one until you address the idea of your weakness.’

Grenn eyed Lady Farwynd and then Chugo, keeping his eyes there with disdain.

‘And we can start now. Brevash, Comtè, Pelinque and Irva want to have a say in this world, be it through independence or a seat on
this table, mark my words, they will ask after they see your military might.’

He lifted his finger at that to understate his point, pointing it towards Chugo after

‘Didn’t he do the exact same? Disregard the fact that your Grace didn’t invite him here and trough presents and a good number of his savages threatening the peace to gain a say here?’

Grenn clenched his teeth, knowing he overshot himself, if only Bastien were here to fill this part of the role, but there were no take backs in this game.

‘That is what the provinces the Khargats have raided will think. While I think adviser Chugo belongs here it could save you or the Grand General a good number of trips if you send him away now. Couse despite that he came bearing gifts instead of arms, having him here shows that your will is workable, de Bey chose the carrot to do so, the rebels chose the stick.’

Grenn knew it was a long haul and that he needed the others to take over here if any of them thought the same, he opened his hands in a ‘I take my hands off’ way to indicate he was finished and looked around the table. Specifically looking for Lady Farwynd, Rurik and even the Grand General.

---

---

Layna sat back in her chair, brought one leg over the other and simply watched as one after the other, advisors stood up and 'offered' their thoughts on the matter of the rebellion. Her eyes calmly and carefully sized up each speaker, in an effort to construct profiles for each advisor.

The old man from Andaluja for example. From the way he spoke to the way he carried himself in front of the Council, Layna could easily deduce that the geezer had zero knowledge or experience in the ways of the Court. Of course, that could all be an elaborate cover so as to make others underestimate him, but Layna doubted it. The man was so old that if he did, in fact, had previous experiences with administration and such other things, his demeanor would be the total opposite of what he projected. Nevertheless, the scholar did have vast theoretical knowledge over most things known, that much she would admit.

After Laxion finished with his speech, in which he very elaborately described a very basic tactic that's probably been used countless times since the birth of Kingdoms and Dynasties, it was the Khargat's turn to voice his opinion. Layna hadn't missed the look he gave her back when he entered the room. At that time she had merely chosen to ignore the barbarian scum, but now he went and talked about treachery. "Hah! The one whose nation's history is riddled with countless backstabbings and betrayals in the pursuit of power talks about treachery! Of all things! Where has the world come to..."

Layna sighed and closed her eyes, choosing to once again ignore the Khargat and all the garbage that came out of his mouth. Once he was finished and sat down silently, Layna's face donned a pleasant smile. "Ah, it's finally over. And here I was thinking he would talk for another twenty minutes or so. Seems like I overestimated him..."

Layna opened her eyes right when Grenn stood up to speak. She had mixed feelings about the man from Driftmark. Apparently, he was pretty well-known in his province and as such, news of his achievements, as well as his notoriety, had made their way to Belintash as well. He was known for leading his mercenary group, the Iron Sovereigns, with an iron fist and steel determination. Rumor also had it that he was the one behind many a village torchings, but that had yet to be proven. Nevertheless, that kind of character was exactly what Layna was looking for, and so when she caught his meaningful look, she got the message and finally stood up to speak as well.

She cast her eyes briefly on all the relevant people present in the room before setting them on the king. "Your majesty, I'm afraid I'll have to agree with master Albraght on this matter. These rebels think of you, and pardon my rudeness, as unfit to rule. 'Tis a title that you will not be able to be rid of easily. Those counts and dukes that instigated the rebellion all think of you, and to a lesser extend the Kingdom itself as weak and easy to pick on. They are like the hyenas residing in the vast grasslands between the central province of Emperiat and the province of Serrath." Layna paused and glared at Chugo. "Once they get the slightest idea of their prey weakening, they instantly pounce on it. Needless to say, those rebels are not the only ones taking after said animal..." She said and turned her attention back to the young king.

"As such, I believe a direct approach is the best possible approach we can take on this matter." Layna bowed her head slightly to show that she was finished and sat back in her chair.

Rohman stood in the castle foyer, waiting for the messenger to return. The young man's eyes were shut, and he felt a drop of water roll from his soaked hair, down to over his right eyelid. He wiped the droplets of rain from his face and smoothed his long brown locks against his scalp as he gazed across the torch-lit chamber. The tapestries, the paintings, the mere design of the castle's walls - all of it spoke wealth.

Roman had seen wealth; he'd been raised in it. The spectacles of the castle, therefore, did not intimidate him in the least. Despite his wealth, he understood that all men were under the same sky, which explained why he did not look down on the servant that returned to him, dipping his head in respect.

"Sir Rohman, his majesty thanks you and beckons that you join him and the other advisors in the meeting hall." The servant said.

"My thanks. Are you aware of the status of Sir Bastien de Warren?" The young man spoke in a calm baritone.

"If my ears do not falter, I believe he has just ridden out of the city towards Dieuportielle, sir." The servant said, then politely beckoned him to follow.

The news slightly disappointed Rohman, since he hadn't seen his friend in many months, but the urgency of the situation in their province was such that did not allow for a leader to tarry in his departure. Rohman, himself, would've been aiding the man in his attempts, had his brothers and the other knights of his house not been at arms.

The young man silently carried after the boy, unclipping the chain brooch that held his cloak together at the neck. He removed the dark cloth and folded it over his right arm. Under his cloak was a crimson cape that covered leather riding armor. The cape was the only item he wore that begged of his wealth. Other than such, he looked as a commoner in his dress.

In his stature, however, Romahn was far from a commoner. He was tall and muscled, and his hair was finely groomed. He walked with a confidence that radiated from his body, which moved with an equally impressive swiftness that had been attained over years of training, and visibly begged as much.

The servant looked back briefly at him, and Rohman didn't hesitate to meet eyes with the boy, who quickly turn his gaze frontwards. He slowed at a pair of oak doors, and bowed his head. "The council waits for you." He said.

Rohman nodded again and reached into the folds of his cloak, to the pouch tethered onto his belt. He fished out a small sum of gold coins, enough to purchase a day's worth of food. The boy looked at him in minor awe, receiving the currency as it was handed to him like it were the rarest jewel in the world. "Th-thank you, sir." He mattered.

The Knight nodded simply, drawing no extra attention to the gesture. "Sindoras carry you." He spoke, and sent the boy on his way. He waited a moment and then gingerly pushed the doors inward, exposing the inside of the meeting hall.

As every eye glided to rest on him, Rohman stepped inside. He cared not of the other's glances, but rather bowed his head and marched directly to the young King. Elendin. He respectfully approached and knelt down on one knee, placing his hands on his thigh as he bowed, his cape cascading the ground around him.

"Your great highness, I beg you pardon our recalling of Sir Bastien de Warren, and I bring additional gratitude from the House de Warenne, as well as from my father and House Okitash. He said, his eyes remaining downcast. He fell silent and awaited the young King's word.

Elendin sits back in his chair as his advisers do their job. One by one they lay their plans on the table, trying to convince the young boy their plan works best. He remains silent, listening to each plan with great care and repeating them in his brain, trying to come up with the best solution. But after Grenn his speech, the emperor leans forward, taking word. "Ser Albraght, I thank you for your advise, but the matter of the Beys presence was already settled." He closes his eyes for a moment and then speaks aloud once more. "This is the last time I will hear anything of this!"

Silence fills the chamber once again until lady Farwynd breaks it. She tells how she agrees with Grenn, and although not outright saying it, takes a stab at Chugo. He doesn't respond. He simply sits back in his throne as his eyes shift from person to person, his gaze resting a bit longer on Chugo Bey.

Rurik looks from Elendin to Grenn to Layna and finally takes a step forward. "While Ser Albraght probably shouldn't have been so harshly with his words and shouldn't have pointed fingers at our... esteemed guest..." The eyes of Rurik clearly tell his real feelings about Chugo Bey. "I do agree with his tactics as does lady Farwynd. What better way to show you're fit to rule, then to lead an army to victory yourself? This way the nobles can see for themselves what kind of ruler you truly are. Of course you must give the nobles a chance to show their loyalty. It wouldn't be a quick solution to bring up a large enough army, but I think it would have the best outcome possible. What Ser Hosarusson proposed is straight up dangerous. As the Bay said..." He let's out a sigh as he agrees with the Khargat. "It would only scare people off. People must be able to trust their king. Cutting them down whilst offering a helping hand doesn't help there. But these are but my thoughts. The decision lies with you, my Emperor." Rurik bows and takes a step back, taking his old place once more.

Elendin sits back in his throne and let these words sink in. Three people had already chosen the same tactic. Would that mean it was the best one? But perhaps there was truth in what Laxion said. It would certainly lessen the bloodshed of the common man. Less soldiers had to die. There was of course the trust issue.
He looks at the center of the table for a moment before looking up to the Grand-General. "What is the estimated troop strength of the four provinces, and how fast can we muster an army thrice that size?"

The General looks up from his notes and gives a respectful nod as he is given the word. "During our latest report on the military strength of the Provinces, Brevash, Comtè, Pelinque and Irva combined stated they could muster about 8000 men. The largest portion of that coming from Brevash. Of course we're not certain that the official rulers, the Counts, are behind this rebellion, so we can estimate this number smaller. As to muster an army of 25.000 men would take... Two weeks. We shouldn't even need the levies from the other Provinces from that. Emperiat itself has more then enough soldiers to provide." He pauses and scribbles something down on his note. "If you indeed wish to lead this army yourself, I think it'd be best if I were to remain in Emperiat. People might think it was I who brought victory, and not you, your majesty." The man gives another respectful nod and leans back in his chair.

As Elendin opens his mouth to continue the meeting, as another courier enters the chamber and bows before the emperor. "The Province of Dieuporteille replacement for Ser ℬastien de Warenne has arrived, milord. May I present to you, Ser Rohman Lorinson, of House of Okitash." The courier bows once more and takes a step back.

A young, bearded man enters the large round chamber and kneels before the large table and thus for Elendin. The boy looks at the man for a moment before his gaze shifts towards Rurik. The uncle simply shrugs his shoulders and cocks his head, looking at the man. Elendin stands up from his chair and folds his hands together, trying to look at least somewhat majestic. "I... We welcome you Ser Lorison. I'm certain of it your council will be valuable." The boy extends his arm and motions around the room. "These are your colleagues from the other Provinces. Normally I would have have made this introductory more official, but as you can see, we were in the middle of a meeting and were discussing the potential threat of rebellion in the western Provinces. Perhaps you could enlighten us of the situation there, as you have recently departed Dieuporteille?"

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The knight looked at the young king, as he stood his full height but kept his gaze downward. Despite his nearly fifteen years seniority over the boy, Rohman looked at him with the same respect he'd given his father. He glanced around briefly at the other advisors, but then returned his gaze solely to the king. At his beckon to enlighten them of the status of his province he nodded.

"My liege, it pains me to inform you that a group of treasonous nobles have gathered armies, and have already ignited conflict the borders of Dieuportielle." He began. "The mass has already slain nearly every warrior of House Dwenmer, so it was decided by the Houses, including my father, that I should come to relieve Bastien, for his knowledge in battle is priceless." Had the young man's speech craft not been so tediously trained, his disappointment at the latter revelation would've be unmistakable.

"Lord Garron de Warren has encamped his men on the border, as well as the warriors loyal to his house. The forces of Houses Okitash and Idlenwyn were en route to join him at the time of my departure, but I am sure they have reached their destination, at latest by mid day today." Rohman paused for a brief moment, trying to ignore his desire to be fighting along side his father and brothers. "Sindoras permitting, the combined houses will stop the rebellion before news of their pestilence further reaches your ears, your grace."

With that, Rohman bowed his head and allowed the silence to return to the hall. What the young man chose to omit, were his own worries for the welfare of his brethren and fellow warriors. Aye, the skill of the Dieuportiellian soldiers exceeded that of almost every other province, but number could sometimes overpower skill.

Elendin folds his hands as the newcomer brings out report. He occasionally nods and finally closes his eyes as Rohman finishes. "So what you're saying is that Dieuporteille can stand on his own, without the help of the armies of Emperiat? We wouldn't need mobilize the armies and march west?" He scratches his chin and contemplates the options. After a while he opens his eyes and motions to the empty seat. "Please, Ser Okitash. Take your seat at the table. We welcome you." Then he let's his gaze glide over the other advisers and prepares his plan.

"I never doubted thought this rebellion would succeed in any way. The thing that bothered me was how to deal with it. You have all given me wonderful and worthy advise. I would march against the rebels myself, showing how I deal with traitors, but here comes man, bearing information that Dieuporteille can squeesh them down easily enough. Tell me, should I still march west? My heart says yes, for I cannot let Dieuporteille bear the brunt of this rebellion, but my mind says no, for it will put more men in danger then necessary." The young emperors eyes look up to the ceiling and the statues attached to it, somehow expecting the answer would come from the Paragons themselves.

Laxion looked around the table, curious as to why those who had been so eager to speak and point out the flaws in his proposition before were now so quiet. He turned to the young king and made a respectful response.

'Your Majesty, I am of the view that this is your opportunity to ensure that all are loyal to you. You must not only call up the your own armies, but also those of Andaluja and Belintash and Yenin and all other duchies and provinces in the realm. It is not a matter of risking lives unnecessarily, but rather, it is about proving that you are the undisputed ruler of the realm,' and at this, he allowed his eyes to move from Chugo Bey to Layna and across to the others.

'Some suggest that my earlier proposition is 'treacherous', but it is far from being so, 'tis merely that they have little understanding of what it is that I am getting at. As things stand, however, I am all for you leading the forces yourself, and I suggest you call forth all the armies of the realm. 'Tis a matter far greater than one rebellion, this is your war for the throne and for internal stability in your reign.'

The idea of Elendin leading the army himself was preposterous; Chugo knew that the boy's martial training would be no substitute for experience and the young king seemed oblivious to what his trusted 'advisors' were proposing. Even the basis of this idea was flawed; if the purpose was to allow Elendin to claim credit for the victories himself, that left two options: that he go as a mere figurehead and let the marshals and generals conduct the campaign as they otherwise would, or that he truly try to lead a host at that tender age.

In either case, his enemies and disloyal subjects would still be loathe to accept any triumph as the king's; they would (probably correctly) assume it the work of grown men. Still, whilst Chugo thought all these things he weighed whether or not to speak them aloud. It would seem that he alone had a mind or good intent toward the King, and he was especially wary of creating yet another quarrel with the court. He had best pick his battles carefully.

The scholar opened his mouth once more and dared imply that Chugo had 'little understanding'. The Khargat looks calm as ever, but an observant fellow might notice him clench his fists until they whitened. He took a small breath and once again contemplated whether it be best to speak his mind or remain silent. In the end, some small hope that the King might recognize his good will was enough to make the Bey speak, though his gut told him that he was making a mistake in doing so.

"About the gravity of this situation he is right," Chugo admitted as he gestured towards Laxion, "but to summon all the armies of the realm is preposterous. Beyond excessive, it is wasteful and outright folly. The smallest of wars cost fortunes, and you would be emptying your coffers raising an army a hundred times what is needed. Make no mistake, a harsh and immediate response is called for, but not what he suggests."

As in for the matter of leading the army personally, Chugo was not so confrontational in his opinion, "I bid you think carefully, Your Majesty, about their counsel to lead the armies in person. Such a thing is not without risk, and you will be away from the capital for what may amount to be far too long. A cold throne invites usurpers."

Grenn scoffed as the Khargat advised to think ‘carefully’. A scoff loud enough for anyone to hear, soft enough to not be a direct affront. He waited for the Khargat to salvage but didn’t think much of it. A personal peeve he couldn’t let slide.

'We all bid you to think wisely, strongly, courageously, piously and carefully. Just to get the empty advise over with. "A cold throne invites usurpers".'

He inclined his head to Chugo give credit to his quote.

'Nice words but Pelinque , Brevash, Irva, and Comtè are already trying to usurp the power that that throne embodies. Putting men in danger is what ruling is your majesty and in this case I would advise to bring a force large enough to make them fear open battle, not the entire army.'

Grenn gestured at Laxion with a sorrow face.

'That doesn’t mean rallying all armies as Lord Husarusson advised, though his idea of getting loyalty affirmed isn’t without mirth. Calling the nobles of every province to come and swear loyalty is a tedious business, but it might be worth having that tradition honoured.'

Grenn nodded to Laxion and looked at the King.

'As for the army size: I would say it just requires the force that Dieuporteille will be using and preferably a company of the King’s own or two to have more of a personal touch. This way you lead things into a series of sieges and their complementary negotiations. A place to show your worth to the Emperiat without being in risk of much. I have confidence you can lead such talks to a proper end.'

A bit brash to let himself be taunted like this after the King intervened in his last attempt to set up the advisers against the Khargat. Let alone that he just suggested to place the King in close proximity to that self-righteous prick of a Dieuporteille. But Grenn hadn’t forgot the opportunity the King had given him and the plan to exploit it he had thought about during Laxion’s small address.

'About the "cold throne" that Councillor Bey put so eloquently, is Rurik not one we could advise with the same diligence?'

Grenn rubbed his hands in anticipation.