The knight looked ready to argue, but instead his shoulders sagged as he raked a hand through his disheveled hair.
"Isn't that simply what politics is? Everyone chases their own righteousness and their own pride until practical interests are thrown to the dogs."
Without either agreeing or disagreeing, Varkas turned to the final page of the report.
His vision remained hazy, as though covered by a thin veil, so reading took him rather longer than usual.
Even so, grasping the essence of the report presented little difficulty.
Its conclusion was unmistakable.
All the groundwork he had painstakingly laid throughout the previous winter was on the verge of collapsing.
Varkas accepted that fact calmly and set the bundle of reports down upon the desk.
Throughout the entire winter, he had mobilized every connection House Siorcan possessed, approaching the members of the Northern League one by one in an effort to win them over.
His objective had been to isolate House Heimdal—the heart of the rebellion—from within the North itself.
However, once the Imperial Family began large-scale intervention, Valto had begun to unite once again.
Their premature military threats had only heightened the North's sense of crisis.
"As the report states, the northern nobles Your Grace had persuaded have already begun distancing themselves. Even those who remain are afraid of being branded traitors to their own people. If this continues, rebellion truly will break out."
"Then we'll suppress it. There's no helping it."
With a weary sigh, Varkas rose from his chair.
"Tell His Majesty that we must march on Amasek before the North makes its move. The sooner, the better."
At his calm response, not only Kailias but even the retainers gathered inside the meeting chamber stared at him in astonishment.
The knight hurriedly stepped forward, refusing to let Varkas end the discussion so easily.
"I came to ask that Your Grace personally negotiate with House Heimdal. Some members of the Northern League still remain neutral. If we cooperate with them and pressure the ducal house, it may still be possible to salvage the situation..."
"We've already passed the point where anything can be salvaged."
Varkas answered flatly.
"His Majesty ignored my advice and assembled the Imperial Army as far as Sevron. You know perfectly well that region is the North's principal breadbasket. Did he threaten starving beasts by taking away their food, then expect them not to bite?"
"My lord! Please mind your words. Such disrespect toward His Imperial Majesty cannot be tolerated—!"
"Sir."
Varkas cut him off coldly.
"I am no longer a knight of the Roem Knights. I am the Grand Duke of Siorcan now. It is you who should remember proper etiquette."
The man's face immediately turned pale.
Watching him silently, Varkas continued in an even tone.
"I'll have a room prepared for you. Rest well before taking my telegram back."
"And... what shall it say?"
"I intend to inform His Majesty that I will dispatch an additional three thousand cavalry to the Berta Plains to assist in suppressing the rebellion... Is there some problem with that?"
The knight abruptly sprang to his feet.
"If war truly breaks out... His Majesty will undoubtedly wish for Your Grace to assume overall command."
"Then I should add one more sentence asking that His Majesty kindly abandon that expectation."
Speaking as dryly as ever, Varkas strode toward the entrance of the meeting chamber.
Kailias hurriedly stepped into his path.
"And how do you intend to answer the telegram His Majesty sent?"
Varkas turned his cold gaze upon him.
Through the fog clouding his thoughts, he suddenly remembered that this man had always been one of Aila Roem Gwirta's most devoted admirers.
Come to think of it, he had also presumptuously confronted him once over the decision to marry Talia.
And now, once again, the man seemed to have forgotten his place.
Lifting his chin stubbornly, determined to receive an answer no matter what, he spoke clearly.
"His Majesty said that if Your Grace wished it, he would gladly sign a decree of divorce. He admitted that forcing such an unjust marriage upon you in the first place was—"
"It seems His Majesty believes my marriage to be some kind of joke."
Even to Varkas's own ears, his voice sounded disturbingly chilling.
Sensing the instinctive danger, the knight unconsciously stepped back.
Following that movement with his eyes, Varkas spoke slowly.
"Since you appear so curious, I'll answer you personally. This is what I intend to tell His Majesty."
Resting one hand against the pillar behind the knight, Varkas leaned close enough to speak directly before his face.
"I am not the sort of man who throws away his wife like a pair of worn-out shoes. Therefore, I ask His Majesty to refrain from concerning himself with this disloyal subject's family affairs."
The knight's face turned deathly pale.
Varkas lightly patted his bloodless cheek twice with the palm of his hand before asking gently,
"Has your curiosity been satisfied now?"
The man glared at him with a rigid expression before biting down on his lip and lowering his eyes.
Varkas observed him quietly for a moment, then turned and walked unhurriedly out of the meeting chamber.