Lucas let out a derisive snort for everyone to hear.
“Since when have easterners cared about things like peace?”
“Perhaps it's time we started.”
A faint warning appeared on Tyron's face. The mounted warrior, staring at him through narrowed eyes as though piercing straight through him, continued seriously.
“While His Grace has been confined to his sickbed, the unity of the East has visibly weakened. Meanwhile, the Zram people have steadily increased their strength. If they decide to launch a full invasion, the East will become a sea of flames in an instant. This is no time to quarrel over trivial matters.”
The crooked smile vanished from Lucas's lips.
“Isn't that a bit exaggerated? The Zram people are troublesome, sure, but we possess the strongest cavalry in the Empire. Even if those barbarians driven to the frontier increase their numbers, what of it?”
“Even that cavalry is nothing but a disorganized mob without a strong leader.”
Tyron sighed in frustration.
“While the Grand Duke has withdrawn from the front lines, the lords throughout the East have all been expanding their own power. The warriors under them are loyal not to House Siorcan, but to their individual lords. If, by some chance, those lords join forces and raise the banner of rebellion, the East will split apart in the blink of an eye.”
Faced with one grim statement after another, Lucas's expression hardened.
He knew that some of the vassals had been displaying suspicious movements. But he had never imagined the situation was as serious as Tyron claimed.
Lucas answered stiffly.
“If the vassals attempt rebellion, the Imperial Palace won't sit still. House Siorcan is also a vassal of the Emperor. Defying the Grand Ducal House is practically the same as raising a banner against the Roem Empire itself.”
“You still don't understand what I'm saying.”
Tyron clicked his tongue roughly.
“We must prevent rebellion from occurring in the first place. If matters reach the point where the Imperial Palace has to intervene, then the East will already have become a complete disaster. Discipline must be restored before that happens.”
Lucas fell silent, unable to find an answer.
Tyron, looking at him sternly, declared firmly,
“The inauguration of the new Grand Duke will become the opportunity to unite the East once more. As a member of House Siorcan, you must cooperate as well, young master.”
“...In the end, you're telling me to obediently follow my brother's will.”
“As the second son, is that not inevitable?”
Tyron's words carried a sharp edge.
Lucas glared at him quietly, then jerked his reins and left the bothersome lecturer behind.
He was only fifteen years old. He had no desire to concern himself with the complicated affairs of the East or the obligations of being a second son already.
Deliberately, he spurred his horse forward.
As he galloped across the grasslands like an arrow, the vast pasture spread out beneath the western sun.
Stopping his horse atop a hill, Lucas looked over the hundreds of horses peacefully grazing before turning toward the large encampment nearby.
As he approached a massive tent that seemed to serve as a meeting hall, a broad-shouldered man in an ornate coat came running out to greet him.
“Welcome! I've been waiting so long my neck nearly stretched out!”
He was a vassal of House Siorcan whom Lucas knew well. Leaping down from the saddle, Lucas called out cheerfully,
“Kun Badera! Long time no see.”
“It has indeed been a while, Young Master Lucas. You've grown so much.”
“And you've grown fatter.”
The man burst out laughing and roughly ruffled his hair.
“Your foul mouth hasn't changed at all.”
The bearded man smiled lazily, then suddenly glanced around.
“By the way, where is everyone else? I was told that His Grace, the newly appointed Grand Duke, would arrive with the mounted warriors...”
“They'll be here soon.”
Lucas pointed toward the hill and replied indifferently.
“He kept nagging me so much that I rode ahead.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than hundreds of horsemen appeared over the ridge.
Kun Badera immediately ordered the servants to prepare to welcome the guests. Lucas also headed up the hill to fulfill his own duties.
At that moment, Varkas stepped down from the traveling carriage that had just arrived before the meeting hall.
Lucas hurried forward to attend to him, but suddenly stopped.
The Second Imperial Princess was in his brother's arms.
Supporting the limp woman with one arm as though she weighed nothing, Varkas slowly surveyed the surroundings and asked,
“Where are we staying?”
Kun Badera, who had been staring blankly at the two of them, hurried over and bowed his head.
“I-It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I am Kun Badera, the one responsible for Your Grace's horses.”