164 The Path to Restoration
It was practically an open invitation to restore the fallen kingdom.
"Perhaps we should decline—"
"Decline? Decline?!"
Harald’s head snapped up, his gaze sharp and filled with barely restrained fury.
"You would throw away the chance to reclaim Asagrim? Do you have any idea what this means!?"
"Viscount, please, calm—"
"Calm!? How can I calm myself!?" Harald roared. "What does it matter if it’s a trap? This is our land! Our history! Our legacy! You have no right to speak of abandoning it if you do not know the grief of the North!"
"Enough," William interjected.
The room fell silent at his command. Harald, despite his rage, immediately quieted. Find your next read on freewebnovel
The retainers exchanged uneasy glances. To subdue a man like Harald with a single word… It was a sight to behold.
"There is no trap," William said firmly. "His Majesty’s private letter made that clear."
"What did it say?"
"I cannot tell you. None of you can know."
Even Harald paled at that.
If the contents of the letter were so secret that even knowing them was dangerous…
Then the true meaning behind this gift was something far greater than any of them had imagined.
"The important thing," William said, his tone measured, "is that while the emperor may not be actively seeking the restoration of the Northern Kingdom, he’s at least willing to tolerate the rise of a Grand Duke—someone on par with the Prince-electors."
"Of course, such a favor won’t come without a price," Raymond observed.
William nodded. "His Majesty expects me to support the First Prince in return. That must mean the First Prince’s foundation is weaker than we thought."
"That doesn’t make sense. Why would—" Raymond started, then abruptly stopped himself.
Information we’re not meant to know. A reckless gamble that defies logic. Excessive goodwill, almost to the point of absurdity. And the unwavering refusal to even consider the Second Prince…
The pieces in Raymond’s mind shifted, aligning into a chilling possibility.
He dismissed the thought before it could fully take shape. Whether it was truth or mere paranoia, it was not something he could afford to voice aloud.
"In any case, if this is the reality of the situation, then it’s a stroke of fortune for us. Do you have concerns?" he asked.
William exhaled. "The real problem is the competition for the family headship. This gift is as good as it gets, but accepting it means I’ll be bound to the North for the foreseeable future."
With Calix waiting for an opportunity to strike, he couldn’t afford to leave a proxy in charge and walk away. One moment of inattention, and he could be blindsided at any time.
Yet remaining in the North meant all but surrendering his claim to inherit House Hern.
"His Majesty has acknowledged my right to Hern’s succession, but if my father chooses to disinherit me, that recognition means nothing," William continued. "That’s why I called you all here. I want to hear your thoughts."
A moment of silence followed, until Hugo hesitantly stepped forward.
"My lord… There’s something I need to tell you."
William inclined his head, signaling for him to continue.
Hugo reached into his coat and produced a small piece of parchment.
"A letter arrived earlier. It’s from Hans, sent from the main estate."
William’s brow furrowed. "Hans? He sent me a letter?"
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"Yes. One of his old subordinates, who now works under him, delivered it."
Without hesitation, William snatched the letter from Hugo’s hand. The paper was crumpled, the handwriting uneven and slightly clumsy—clearly written by someone who had only recently learned proper script.
As he read, his expression darkened.
Jordi’s behavior suspicious. Signs of treason. Taking Ian north soon. Do not reply. Could be intercepted.
William shut his eyes.
There was only one path left for him now.
"Something’s off with that Hans fellow," one of the retainers reported.
"Hans? Who the hell is that?" Jordi, the second son of House Hern, frowned at the unfamiliar name.
"A servant of the third son. He’s currently undergoing training as a steward within the family estate."
"Ah, that cowering rat who used to follow William around?" Jordi smirked. "And what about him?"
"He’s been selling off anything he can convert into coin. Then he purchased travel supplies and provisions. It seems he’s planning to leave the estate in secret."
Jordi chuckled at the absurdity of it.
"How amusing. The rest of the estate remains blissfully unaware, yet a mere servant has sensed the undercurrents of change."
"Shall we eliminate him?" the retainer asked.
Jordi shook his head dismissively. "No need. Let him go."
"Are you certain?"
"If we go out of our way to dispose of a lowly servant, it will only draw unnecessary suspicion. Besides, his death won’t deal any real blow to my dear younger brother. He’s already taken all his valuable assets with him."
Felicia, the next Sword Saint. Raymond, the Black Lion’s disciple. Hugo, a former underworld boss.
Not a single true talent had been left behind.
Killing an insignificant servant would be nothing more than a momentary inconvenience—William would simply replace him with another.
"Better to let him be. No sense in jeopardizing the grand plan over a rat," Jordi concluded.
"As you say, my lord."
"Forget the distractions and focus on the preparations. There’s not much time left before the coup."
His retainer bowed deeply before leaving the room.
Jordi watched him go, ensuring that no one else was present before he spoke again.
"If you have business with me, show yourself. I’d rather you not skulk in the shadows."
A chilling voice emerged from the darkness.
"You noticed?"
Jordi let out an amused chuckle. "Your presence chills the air around you. My neck prickles every time you appear. How could I not notice? It’s hardly the first time we’ve met, after all."
"Not many get the chance to meet me twice," the shadowy figure remarked.
"Was that a threat?" Jordi asked, unbothered.
"Merely stating a fact. Though I do appreciate you pointing out a flaw I hadn’t considered."
Jordi narrowed his eyes. The presence was always unsettling, but today, something about it felt even more ominous.
"Enough with the games. Why have you come this time?" he demanded.
"To deliver a message from my master."