Chapter 25 — Journey to the Royal Capital 2
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 3
Though he had only twelve soldiers, though the name Cecil had long since drifted far from the political heart of the kingdom, though a hundred years ago the family's last remaining property in the royal capital had been confiscated by the crown, Gao Yang still entered the city in the most conspicuous manner possible—and he unfurled the banner of seven hundred years past.
That banner was permitted to be flown only when Gao Yang Cecil himself still lived. Raising it was less a display of his own presence than a signal to the present Ansu royal house.
"It is not the seventeen-year-old Viscount Cecil who enters the city, but the Grand Duke of the Southern March."
When the chamberlain reported the news, Francis II understood at once the message that "man of old" meant to convey to him. The aged king walked out onto the terrace of the Silver Bastion and gazed toward the direction from which House Cecil was entering the city.
At this distance he could see nothing. Xuanque City had grown many times larger than in those days—so vast that even from the highest point of the Silver Bastion its edges could not be seen. He wondered whether that ancient one, who had slept from seven hundred years ago until now, had felt surprise upon setting foot in Xuanque City.
Would he realize that seven hundred years had passed, and that everything was no longer as it once had been?
The chamberlain still waited at his side for orders. Francis II drew back his gaze and looked at this plain-featured middle-aged man. "Receive him according to the standard for a duke, then tell him I shall meet him at noon tomorrow. Ask the Grand Duke of the Southern March to rest a day within the Silver Bastion to recover from the fatigue of travel."
The chamberlain acknowledged the order, but before he could withdraw, Francis II called him back. "Additionally—apart from the arrangements for the meeting, do your utmost to satisfy any request the Duke of Cecil makes. In matters of courtesy there must be no lapse."
The chamberlain withdrew. A young man in splendid attire—pale golden short hair, a strikingly handsome face—stepped forward from beside a pillar where he had been standing all along. "Father, do you believe that 'resurrected' duke is genuine or false?"
"That is not important," Francis II said, looking at his heir. "Though Andrew sent that letter, and though we have gathered a great deal of corroborating evidence, whether that ancient duke is truly who he claims will depend on what follows. For now I can only say... it is indeed no farce. That resurrected man of old has given us a considerable 'surprise.'"
The young man lowered his eyelids in the manner of one humbly seeking instruction. "What do you think his purpose is in coming?"
"Before we meet, all purposes can only be conjecture. Judging by the spectacle he has made along the way and those rumors that were plainly set in motion by someone, his manner of conduct suggests he will certainly not lay his intentions bare in advance," the old king said, shaking his head. "You may find an opportunity to make contact and observe his attitude, but mind the measure. We face a situation without precedent—do not provoke him."
The young man gave his word and turned to leave the room.
Francis II turned back and continued gazing toward the city, sighing faintly in his heart.
Still too young. His heir was not yet skilled at concealing his true thoughts. He was far too intent upon that ancient one who had fallen from the sky—or rather, crawled up from the earth—so much so that his eagerness was plain at a single glance.
But it was no great matter. Rather than let him steal off to make contact in private, it was better to grant him the opportunity openly.
After watching the chamberlain ride away from the palace, Francis II nodded and spoke to the empty air beside him. "Dark Raven, keep watch over Gao Yang Cecil and his party. Report anything of note."