Fenric turned to look back toward Arthur as he walked beside Baron Iken and Garren Perick. "Seems like a good kid."
Baron Iken shook his head. "Don't let the boy's innocence fool you. He's far sharper than he lets on."
"Oh?" Both Garren and Fenric were intrigued.
"Forgive me. I really shouldn't gossip." Baron Iken sighed. "You'll know what I mean when you have a chance to speak with him more."
Fenric was now doubly intrigued but did not want to press the matter. The boy was a young lord, after all.
Soon, they arrived before a large wooden door on which Baron Iken lightly knocked.
"Come in." A sharp yet unhurried voice replied.
Baron Iken opened the door, and the trio entered. Once inside, Fenric glanced around the office walls adorned with trinkets and books but quickly lost interest.
He was what some might call unrefined, so the numerous baubles lining the shelves just looked like children's toys to him. The owner of the trinkets was Marquis Revan, and as they approached, he lifted his cold violet eyes from the paperwork littering his desk and stared at them.
He didn't speak as one would expect, creating an awkward atmosphere where the trio was unsure of how to proceed.
When the awkward silence reached its apex, and Baron Iken was about to speak out of turn, Marquis Revan released an annoyed sigh. "Tell me how many arrived."
Baron Iken took a breath to calm his nerves as he pulled a small parchment from his breast pocket. "Regarding the northeastern lords, Earl Bynn, Charte, Koro, Perick, and Pont each sent the required one thousand men plus grain. Count Tonne, Garret, Pine, and Kinley, five hundred men plus grain. Viscount Errin and Bathe, three hundred men plus grain. Various Baron's totaling twelve hundred men plus grain."
"And the rest?" Marquis Revan asked.
"They are either on their way or sent compensation in the form of grain and coin." Baron Iken reached into his breast pocket again and pulled out another parchment before handing it to Marquis Revan. "This is the receipt recording what we have received so far."
Marquis Revan glanced at the parchment for a moment before looking up. "Good. If there's nothing else, be on your way."
Fenric was happy to oblige and flee the strange atmosphere. He had only tagged along to introduce himself, and since it was clear the Marquis had no interest in such a thing, he no longer had a reason to stick around.
However, as he and Baron Iken turned to leave, Garren spoke up. "Is it wise to have a child act as the leader for the northeastern lords? Even if our role in the war is minor, it seems irresponsible."Marquis Revan sneered and slowly shifted his gaze to Baron Iken.
"Garren, I told you before that Arthur will only lead us on the surface. In reality, I will be in full control." Baron Iken hurriedly explained, yet it appeared to be more of a show for Marquis Revan than assurance to Garren.
"And what if the boy decides he wants to be in charge?" Garren shot back.
"Arthur isn't the type of boy who—" Baron Iken tried to explain before the Marquis interrupted him.
"—What's this?" Marquis Revan mocked. "Do you suddenly care for the boy's well-being? Or are you acting out like a petulant child because you're unhappy with serving under your nephew?"
Garren's face flushed with anger. "The boy is nothing to me, and I care not whether he is—"
"—Then. Speak. Less." Marquis Revan cut him off and turned his gaze toward Baron Iken. "For the duration of the war, Arthur will be representing the Revan house—representing me. If he should decide to take up a more active role, then that's what he shall have."
YOU ARE READING
The Dreamer's Fall
FantasiArthur is a noble-born reincarnator searching for absolute immortality to avoid the terrifying fate he witnessed in the afterlife. Thanks to a failed spell designed by an unimaginative ancestor, he is able to glimpse a path leading toward immortalit...