Chapter 379 — Peace?
Blade of Dawn · Page 3 of 3
After the negotiations came the banquet—a difficult negotiation ought to conclude with a grand feast, and the socializing at such a banquet could, in a sense, be regarded as the continuation of the negotiations. Knowing this full well, Silas Loren stood in the banquet hall with a glass of red wine, chatting casually with the Ansuans around him, while his gaze never once left the center of the hall.
Francis II was there; the emperor of Typhon was there as well; and apart from them, only a handful of attendants stood at their sides—attendants who were, without question, all guards.
Apart from the king and the emperor conversing there, the rest of the attendees had split into two unmistakably distinct camps: Ansuans and Typhonians each occupied one side of the banquet hall, forming their own circles and conversing among themselves, while directing the fullest measure of vigilance at the other side.
The protocol officials who had designed this banquet segment could not possibly have failed to anticipate this, but such an awkward situation was plainly unavoidable. In Silas Loren's view, simply canceling this face-saving banquet would have been the easiest solution—but people who must follow rules and etiquette in all things would hardly think so.
As he mused, a young man came walking toward the eastern duke.
"Prince Edmund," Duke Loren raised his glass in salute to the golden-haired young man, "your performance at the negotiating table was impressive."
Apart from the king himself, this promising young prince had been the most striking presence at today's negotiations. His incisive words and blade-sharp insight had even earned the praise of Emperor Luoyan.
"Uncle Loren, let us not stand too much on ceremony here," the young prince smiled, raising his own glass to the duke before him, "and if not for House Loren guarding the eastern province, today's negotiations might never even have begun. We should celebrate today's progress together."
At last a faint smile surfaced on Silas Loren's face—a face that always carried an air of authority and seemed hard to approach. "Yes. We should celebrate the peace that is to come."
Though the negotiations were not yet over and the two sides would contend here for some time yet, today's talks had achieved substantive progress. Everyone could sense that the rulers of the two nations were doing their utmost to bring about peace—and that was precisely why all of them had gathered here.
"Peace... peace is indeed precious," Edmund gave a soft laugh. "A pity that simple peace cannot solve every problem—cannot solve the state of Ansu's decline."
"Patience, my prince, we must have patience," Silas Loren said in a steady, measured tone. "Once the question of peace with Typhon is settled, we will have our chance to breathe new life into this ancient kingdom."
In the "half of the hall" occupied by the Typhonians, the young wolf general An Luo Wendel cast a complicated look at the Ansu king standing at the center of the hall.
Beside the young wolf general stood a middle-aged man in a light-colored coat, gentle in bearing and touched with the air of a mage. Noticing An Luo's gaze, the man could not help but shake his head slightly. "An Luo, you must learn to control your emotions."
"...Yes, Uncle Palin... Count Winterfort," Anluo Wendell heard the words of the elder who had looked after her since childhood, and could only draw a deep breath, schooling her expression. "I just never thought... this day would truly come."
"We should be glad," said the Count of Winterfort with a smile, though his gaze rested on Emperor Typhon, Luoyan Augustus. "Our emperor has chosen the path of peace after all."
Anluo Wendell could not help muttering under her breath: "Peace, is it..."