Chapter 332 — The Glan Family
Blade of Dawn · Page 2 of 3
The nobles called such warfare "the war of civilized men," and pronounced it "as elegant and honorable as a duel witnessed before the gods." In the beginning, the rule had existed to keep the fledgling human kingdom from sinking into the mire of grave internal division and strife, but by now it had become a means for the nobles to display their own nobility and restraint. The nobles of Ansu seemed to believe that even if Tifon truly came, even if Ansu truly fell, they could still preserve their dignity by this same set of rules—simply by swearing fealty to the Tifon emperor in good time.
So they did not care in the least what came of the negotiations between the king and the Tifon emperor; they thought only of whether they could skim some advantage off the process. And to keep the nobles of the realm from growing restless, Francis II could only advance a portion of the "advantages" beforehand.
Those nobles would never imagine with what purpose the Tifon people came to attack this country. Tifon, in its current period of transformation, was like a monstrous glutton-beast—would that famished beast care whether its food had sworn it fealty?
Gaoyang glanced at the scroll in Rebecca's hand and gave a soft, scornful laugh: "Francis II's recognition of my actual rule over the Kant domain is just riding the tide to hand me a favor. And granting me a stretch of royal demesne east of the Kant domain as a gift is his hope that the Cecil family will keep 'quiet' during the negotiations. After all, though the Cecil family has left the center of royal power, I myself have come—and under certain circumstances, my influence could bring him trouble beyond imagining."
"Whatever he's after, who turns down a free gift?" Amber summed up the document's significance in the most economical terms, then knitted her brows. "But the king sent only a hurried messenger to deliver it—that's hardly rigorous, is it? I don't understand your nobles' confoundedly troublesome rules, but even so, this is a transaction between a king and a duke. Shouldn't there at least be some kind of investiture ceremony?"
"Delivering the document quietly was the only choice Francis II had," Gaorong said, rising. "Otherwise what would you have him do? A royal bastard from seven hundred years later, come to invest a founding grand duke of the ancestor generation from seven hundred years earlier? Setting everything else aside—face to face at the investiture, who bows first, him or me? Or do we both bow at once? Back in the day, even when I met Charles, no bowing was required. Isn't Francis II afraid of shortening his own allotment of years?"
Amber pictured the awkwardness of the scene and gasped sharply: "Ugh, what a headache."
"In any case, put this thing away for now," Gaoyang waved a hand. "I have another, more important matter. Rebecca, do you know—ah, well, you probably don't. Go and bring Hetty here."
"What is it?" Rebecca listened in blank bewilderment, and at the mention of fetching Hetty she grew a little nervous at once. "Ancestor, can't you tell me?"
Gaoyang eyed the girl sidelong: "Tell you? Do you know the noble genealogies of the Southern Marches?"
"Oh—then I'll go find Auntie!"
Rebecca dashed out like a whirlwind, and before long Hetty arrived at Gaosong's chamber.
This lady of elegant bearing possessed not only striking beauty and administrative talent but also considerable shrewdness in the rules governing nobles and kings. The moment she entered, she spoke first: "Ancestor, what the messenger brought should be the king's investiture document, yes?"
"Correct. The Kant domain and the hills east of Kant now belong to the Cecil family—but that's not important," Gaoyang waved a hand. "I called you here to ask you something. Is there a noble family by the name of 'Glan' in the Southern Marches?"