Randolph’s words were firm, his gaze steely. Yet beneath the surface, he burned with a competitive spirit toward Michael.
A tense silence followed his declaration. Having coordinated with Randolph beforehand, Edward hesitantly voiced his support.
"I’m still young, so I agree that Randolph should take command," Edward said awkwardly, his words trailing off as though unsure of himself.
The Elonia generals appeared uneasy but refrained from speaking up. Emboldened, Randolph raised his chin and smiled confidently.
Meanwhile, Duke Capone looked visibly distressed.
With Michael—a rising star of military strategy—already here, why should the Crown Prince lead the frontlines? Despite his attempts to dissuade Randolph, the prince had stubbornly insisted.
Capone, as Randolph’s advisor, couldn’t openly contradict him in a public setting like this. Recognizing Capone’s predicament, Michael decided to voice his objections.
The room grew tense as Michael’s calm voice broke the silence.
"Your Highness," Michael began, meeting Randolph’s gaze.
"What I’m about to say may be unpleasant, but I must speak. The Pamir Imperial Army, including its five main tribes, is converging on this location. The situation is dangerous, and for your safety, it would be wiser for you to remain within the fortress."
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Randolph’s face hardened instantly.
Having observed the prince, Michael knew he was unfit to lead in the field. At best, Randolph could serve as a symbolic figurehead. The victories of the troops under his command would still reflect well on him, so his insistence on personally leading the frontlines was perplexing.
For the sake of Randolph’s safety—and the success of the campaign—Michael hoped the prince would heed his advice and stay within the fortress.
However, Randolph, clearly affronted by Michael’s candid words, erupted in anger. His face turned red with frustration.
"What is the meaning of this? I was appointed commander-in-chief by His Majesty the King! How can I fulfill my role if I don’t lead on the frontlines? Are you suggesting I should be content with being a figurehead?"
Michael responded calmly.
"My concern is for your safety, Your Highness. Should anything happen to you here, it would throw the frontlines into chaos and lead to irreversible consequences for both Rania and Elonia. Is such a risk necessary?"
Unable to find a flaw in Michael’s reasoning, Randolph glared at him in silence.
Sensing the escalating tension, Duke Capone quickly intervened to defuse the situation.
"Your Highness, Count Michael’s argument is valid. A tree must have strong roots to thrive, and we are but branches extending from your roots. If the branches bear fruit, it is ultimately the roots that benefit. But if the roots are harmed, the entire tree withers," Duke Capone explained, his tone calm but his metaphor clear.
General Louis chimed in as well. "Your Highness, you represent the kingdom itself. If you expose yourself on the frontlines, it will make effective maneuvers nearly impossible. Should the Empire’s forces capture you, the consequences would be catastrophic. We can’t afford to allocate troops solely for your protection either."
Randolph’s hands trembled with anger.
Even the foreigners from Elonia don’t oppose my taking command, yet my own kingdom’s nobles humiliate me like this?
Randolph had heard his father complain about the nobles’ arrogance countless times, but he hadn’t expected it to this degree.
Unbeknownst to Randolph, the Elonia delegation privately agreed with Rania’s generals. While their precarious situation forced them to show deference to Randolph, they were relieved to see Rania’s advisors maintaining sound judgment.
For Michael, who had led the opposition against Randolph’s decision to take command, the support was a welcome surprise. He hadn’t expected such agreement but appreciated the sensible behavior of those sent by King Charles V.
Michael was now confident that the Rania delegation did not endorse the prince’s reckless ambition. Even if Charles V learned of the meeting’s proceedings, he would likely side with Michael’s reasoning.
Michael also believed that Randolph, once his temper cooled, would come to understand the rationale behind his counsel. While the prince’s current emotions clouded his judgment, Michael had faith that logic would prevail eventually.
Even if Randolph held a grudge, Michael wasn’t concerned. If the prince sought retribution after ascending the throne, Michael would likely have accumulated enough power by then to hold his own. The Crassus family had already suffered the loss of its ancestral lands under the guise of a royal reward; there was little more the crown could take. This was one of the few advantages nobles had under feudal law.
"So, I’m supposed to just remain in the fortress?" Randolph hissed, grinding his teeth.
He couldn’t stand the thought of Michael continuing to thrive while he was sidelined. Though he couldn’t fully explain why, Randolph harbored an intense rivalry with Michael. Perhaps it was jealousy over someone his age achieving such renown, or perhaps it was sheer competitive instinct.
One thing was certain: if Randolph had a dragon or a sphinx at his command, he believed he could have accomplished just as much as Michael.
It was a naive thought, born of inexperience, but the young prince didn’t realize it.
"Your presence within the fortress alone would command respect, Your Highness," one of the advisors offered.
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"Ha! And yet, you chastised me for not attending previous military meetings. Why bother asking my opinion when you make all the decisions yourselves? Come, Prince Edward. Let us leave—clearly, we’re just decorative pieces here!" Randolph spat, rising abruptly and storming out with his cloak billowing behind him.
Caught off guard, Edward scrambled to his feet and hesitantly followed.
The room fell silent as the two princes departed. Duke Capone sighed and took charge of the situation.
"His Highness must be feeling cooped up, having been confined to the fortress for so long. His Majesty has entrusted me with full authority in his absence. Let us proceed with the meeting," Capone announced.
The attendees visibly relaxed. Michael, however, silently clicked his tongue. Doesn’t Randolph realize how damaging this tantrum is to his image?
Whether it was youthful arrogance or a lack of worldly experience, Randolph’s actions demonstrated his immaturity. Michael couldn’t help but worry about the kingdom’s future after Charles V’s reign. In a feudal system, a weak monarch only emboldened their vassals.