Chapter 542 — Obstruction
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
The nobles' clamor was maddening.
Victoria Wilde sat beside Crown Prince Wales, her face cold and utterly expressionless as her gaze swept over the assembled nobles, great and small, in the castle's long hall, a faint, imperceptible contempt hidden deep in her eyes.
These good-for-nothings.
They wore gorgeous robes and held forth at length in this castle, their bloodlines noble, their titles each more resounding than the last, and their manner as they spoke here was as though they were deciding the fate of the kingdom itself—yet their impassioned speeches could in the end be summed up in a single word: profit.
A righteous voice echoed through the long hall: "...House Carre supports the rebuilding of the Royal Thoroughfare. We are willing to contribute a hundred able-bodied laborers, and my nephew will lead them personally..."
"What a sacrifice! A hundred men!" someone jeered loudly from the side. "The men who tend your horses probably number more than a hundred, don't they?"
"The men and grain of House Carre are all on the eastern front. We have already given this kingdom everything we have to give—but what of you, Count Greymount? Do you not even have five hundred mules?"
"I do not agree to rebuilding the Royal Thoroughfare—though the Regent Duke's words are most reasonable, and the Thoroughfare would bring great benefit in the long run, we are at war now. If we recklessly pour a great many men and supplies into road-building and it affects the course of the war, what then? I believe we need only rebuild the great east-west road, so that troops may be moved to the front more easily..."
"I object!"
...
The nobles' squabbling was truly maddening.
Wales Morne sat like a puppet in the seat of honor at the very head of the hall, and when the clamor in the long hall had nearly spiraled out of control, the nominal heir to the throne finally could not help but speak: "Ladies and gentlemen, let us set the argument aside for a moment—the matter of the Royal Thoroughfare can be discussed at leisure. It is winter, after all. We might first discuss the town councils and the commercial system..."
Wales's voice finally brought the debate in the long hall to a slight calm, but the new proposal he put forward swiftly brought a fresh round of contention—the nobles, great and small, first praised the Regent Duke and His Highness the Crown Prince for their far-sighted vision and their most wise plan, and then one after another strongly urged that these new institutions be implemented on other people's lands.
Had Victoria Wilde and Franklin Boyu not been sitting here, they would likely have done more than merely argue.
Such debate was doomed to yield nothing. As the clamor in the long hall reached its peak once more and Wales Morne was once again forced to open his mouth, Victoria Wilde finally rose to her feet.
"Enough."
The Northern Queen spoke in a cold, clear voice, and as her words fell, the entire castle, from within to without, plunged instantly toward freezing point.
"I hope this cold air will help you all calm down." A moment later, Victoria withdrew her vast magical power. As the temperature in the hall gradually recovered, her gaze swept over the nobles, great and small, who were now as silent as cicadas in winter.
These were the nobles of real power, great and small, who held half the kingdom's extraordinary strength, its land and its wealth. They were short-sighted, they were selfish, and when they banded together they could only hold the kingdom back—yet even as Regent Duke, she could do no more than warn them thus.