He accepted a sheet of parchment and a quill from the secretary and quickly drafted an urgent letter.
"Select the two fastest senior knights and send one to His Highness the Crown Prince and the other to the lord of Dolakan Castle. There is no harm in strengthening their defenses in case of a surprise attack."
Once the parchment had been rolled up and sealed with wax, the page standing behind him carried it to Edgar, the Wolfram Cavalry squadron commander seated at the end of the long table.
Tucking the letter into his coat, the man asked carefully,
"Wouldn't it be better if we conducted our own investigation as well?"
"And where would we find the manpower for that?"
Before Varkas could answer, a middle-aged knight seated halfway down the left side clicked his tongue in disapproval.
"Security in the East is unstable as it is. We can't pull even more soldiers away because of an unverified rumor."
"I agree."
Varkas nodded calmly.
"We already have six thousand elite mounted warriors stationed in the north. There is no need to send any more. Hunting down the rebel leader is the Imperial Army's responsibility."
"Well, now that the war is drawing to a close, it's about time we focused on strengthening the East itself."
The moment he finished speaking, Modrian, an honorary knight seated on the right, cut in.
He had once served as the cavalry commander personally appointed by the previous Grand Duke and now acted as a military adviser after retiring from active service.
A faint smile rested on the ageless face of the veteran knight as he spoke in a gentle voice.
"Which brings me to another matter. What are Your Grace's plans regarding an heir?"
The abrupt change of subject made Varkas knit his brows.
The other knights, who had been listening with solemn expressions, also appeared taken aback by such an inappropriate topic for a military council.
Modrian, however, continued without the slightest concern.
"When discussing the stability of the territory, what could possibly be more important than the matter of succession?"
"Sir Modrian."
Lucas, who had remained silent until then, cut in sharply.
"This is practically a wartime situation. The rebel leader is still at large, and unrest is spreading across the East. Is this really the time to bring up such personal matters?"
"Personal?"
Modrian slowly shook his head.
"Preserving the bloodline is the very foundation upon which order in this land stands. If, heaven forbid, something were to happen to His Grace, who would inherit the East? Surely you don't wish to see this territory torn apart by disputes among relatives."
"My heir is Lucas Laedgo Siorcan."
Varkas answered without hesitation.
"Wasn't that already made perfectly clear before I departed for the campaign?"
"That was merely a temporary measure in case Your Grace fell on the battlefield."
Idly turning the tip of his quill between his fingers, Modrian continued in a voice that was gentle yet unmistakably sharp.
"The legitimate line of a noble house is meant to pass directly from parent to child. By the grace of the gods, Your Grace has returned safely. It is now your duty to produce a proper heir."
The elderly knight's gaze then shifted toward Lucas.
"Furthermore, I hope it is about time arrangements are made for Young Master Lucas and Lady Raina as well. Both have reached marriageable age, yet neither even has a betrothed..."
"I've heard enough!"
Lucas shot to his feet, his face flushing crimson.
"You're a military adviser, not a matchmaker! What kind of nonsense are you babbling about in the middle of a military council?"
"You're right. It's hardly an appropriate subject for this setting."
The old knight admitted it readily, leaning back in his chair with a long sigh.
"But the other vassals are too busy watching Your Grace's mood to dare speak. That leaves only this old man. None of the three direct members of the Grand Ducal family has any children. Naturally, all the vassals are worried about the future of the East."
"If you look hard enough, Young Master Lucas may already have children."
Baredon, who had been quietly sitting at the far end of the table, finally spoke as though he could no longer keep it to himself.
"Didn't he start chasing women like a madman when he was fifteen? There might be an illegitimate child hidden away somewhere..."
"You bastard—just because you've got a mouth—"
"Enough."
Pressing a hand to his forehead, Varkas spoke in a cold voice.
The noisy council chamber immediately fell into tense silence.
His gaze slowly swept across everyone present before settling on the elderly knight.
"I understand your concern for the future of the Grand Ducal House."
His tone remained calm.