The room was tense, enshrouded by an invisible depressive silence. There were a total of eight persons in the Baron’s office. Hearn and Hursel Tress were sitting uncomfortably beside each other, leaving a large gap in between them as their secretaries stood behind the lofty and pompously designed cushion with its body made of finely tailored timber, and its cushion customised to use the finest wool wrapped by midnight blue satin sewn with the Tress insignia. The Baron sat at a large single cushion, facing the side of the others as he fiddled his fingers nervously. The relationship between uncles and the nephew still remained sore. The dispute would be resumed after the city had recovered. However, the source of the agitation was radiated from Cassian. The cold yet apprehensive eyes of the young shield knight froze the oily flatteries and spoils short. They could feel the annoyance and misgiving, but could not comprehend the reason behind it as they were trying to mend the unknown damage.
“...So, could you kindly explain the reckless charge of Knights of Sheldon to the Abyss?” “...The affair of the Union does not concern us. Aside...” “Hmm...” The freezing gaze stayed on the young and spoiled Baron, stopping his careless remark. “That’s right, Fargon. We want an explanation to all of this mess, and we want it now. Isn’t it right, Hursel?” “...That’s right. Why did you send the Union?” Eyeing his elder brother warily, Hursel joined in to pressure the Baron. “...I...I can assure that there is no...” As the Baron stuttering, an old and elegant-looking man who stood beside the Baron whispered to his ear. “That’s right. I only request the assistance of the Union in scouting the cave for potential danger. The expedition was the decision of that blasted old Grawyrad. Had I know it, I would have...” “Bah! As if that old laidback could get so motivated...” “Ah, yes. The old cow has a lovely daughter. It would be a shame to see her...hurt...” “What are you trying to imply, Sir Hearn?” “...Nothing, just something that could get the old Grawyrad all charged up. By the way, when did a mere servant have the gut to question his master? KNOW YOUR PLACE!!” “...I have nothing but firm loyalty to the Baron. As such, I need to do whatever necessary.” “You need to do nothing, chamberlain Horace. Just stand there and be quiet...”
Cassian watched the family squabble with dispassionate eyes. “So this is how it was...” Already caught some sniffs of the reason of Grawyrad’s recklessness, he could only sigh. Cassian knew the old Grawyrad quite well. In fact, the veteran warrior used to be a knight of the Principle which has the experience and insight to go further in the ladder of Jercflosey’s knighthood. His sudden retirement after the death of his wife was a great loss, but Grawyrad was determined to live with his only daughter, the gem of his life. They moved to Tressmoor, but somehow he started a small Union in the newly formed city-state. Cassian still could recall the astonishment when he read the letter. It seemed like Grawyrad and the former Baron were quite close to each other. In fact, he met the former Baron himself once in the Union’s bar. Disguised as a dishevelled peasant, Grawyrad introduced them, and they joked and laughed casually with the man.
“The last Baron was something, but now...” Watching the ongoing heated bickering, Cassian became gloomed as unpleasant memories began to stir in his mind. “...Quite a mess, huh?” A whispering voice jolted him out of the trance. “Hmm, never cease to disgust me. What about it, Merri?” He titled his head slightly to acknowledge the woman cladded in the light chain mail crafted with opal mitshard, a unique metal smelted by Jercflosey’s blacksmith which was solely available to the ones recognised by the Principle. With her hair trimmed short, and her eyes and face sharp and serene, Merridian was slightly older than Cassian. She was a young prodigy in swordsmanship and leadership, radiating with cool grace unbefitting of her age. She was also the actual commander behind Quingon’s team.
“A food for thought from the youngest son of Clypeus.” “...Nothing more than a touching family reunion...” Cassian replied sarcastically. “...It is inevitable that a family with power, wealth, and authority tend to strive to maintain their status quo, or remake it to their further gain.” Merridian continued with cold logic. “All the more when the family is one of the most respected and prestigious which was knighted by the Principle to protect Jercflosey and the continent of Slamaeldonia.” “...Quite a detached observation, considering the similar circumstance we shared...” “...Well, you either loathed it passionately or trying to come to term with it...” “A weak approach for a Harpe of Swords.” “For now, my dear Cassian. For now.” Cassian felt a slight thrill on his skin as he watched the freezing yet penetrating smile carved on the eyes with the iris as pitch black as her hair. He should not have forgotten Merri’s true nature.
“...Put that aside, do something about that leader of yours. His recklessness is unpredictable...” The enigmatic smile instantly twisted into a resigning sigh. “...How I wish I could. Never mind. I will put him in his place...for a while...” “Alright, sometimes I don’t know how he got his mitshard...” Turning back to the Tress ugly squabble, Cassian flashed a satisfied grin. Quingon feared nothing but his trusted aide. The brash warrior would have a terrible ordeal ahead, befitting of his haphazard leadership. Took a few deep breaths, he rose to join the chaotic meeting.
“...Fargon, how do you think you should take this responsibility?” “...I...I...” “Master Fargon...” “No! That does not concern the lowly chamberlain. Make your own mind, for God’s sake!!” “Gentlemen!” Cassian halted the ongoing squabble and continued under the stares of the Tress. “The Principle cannot and will not interfere, but in the case where the city could not reach an effective measure to solve their crisis, I could guarantee any form of assistance from the Principle under the condition of formal interference as decreed from the Pentagon Pact.” The statement changed the mood of the large office as the Tress gave Cassian a wary look while eyeing each other in misgiving.
“However...” Cassian continued as he gestured to the lavishly decorated office the size of a small salon with soft carpet covering the floor. “The Tress family achieved such a distinctive accomplishment. Investing and leading the founding of Tressmoor and completed it in decades.” Cassian changed his tone from threatening to flattering as he drew the attention of the Tress to his words. “The Principle is confident of Tressmoor’s eventual recovery. We can guarantee the success of sealing the Abyss for the sake of Tressmoor. Please feel free to do whatever you can to get the city back to its rowdy feet. The Principle will assist without interfering whenever the help is needed.” Cassian ended his speech with his left hand placed on top of his heart and a slight bow.
A moment of silence passed as the Baron and his uncles digesting the speech. “...Err hmm...Perhaps we should prioritise the recovery of the city. Others can wait...” The eldest uncle, Hearn made a brief suggestion as he eyed at his younger brother and his nephew. The rest of the Tress nodded as the chamberlain closed his eyes in contemplation. Merridian sneaked him a mocking slight bow. “Ah, Sir Cassian. I had just summoned the surviving member of the group which entered deep into the cave, with the accompanying of the Union interim leader, Floki. I am sure they will arrive shortly.” Cassian’s head rose at the mention of the survivor and Floki. “What a consideration. My deepest thanks, Baron Tress.” As he thanked the Baron with another slight bow, a knock was heard and a guard entered. “It seemed that they are here. Bring them in.”
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