Chapter 405: The Unexpected Incident
Lyan stood on the upper level of the royal lounge, leaning against the ornate railing as he watched Prince Erich and Julius heatedly debating over the map spread out on the table. He had already heard most of their plan—waiting for Varzadia to initiate war, using that as justification to launch a counterattack and invade their territory. It was bold, risky, and very much Prince Erich’s style.
"Your Highness, you’re overthinking this. If we let them make the first move, we’ll be able to rally everyone in Astellia behind us. They’ll see that Varzadia was the aggressor, and we won’t have to worry about divided loyalties," Julius argued, his voice steady but with a hint of impatience.
"But you’re overlooking the damage they could cause if they strike first," Erich countered, his expression growing more intense. "We can’t underestimate them, Julius. If they target our weakest points, even just for a few days, it could cripple us before we can properly respond."
"You’re being paranoid, Your Highness. We’ve been fortifying those areas for months. And we’ll have enough time to mobilize our forces," Julius shot back, frustration seeping into his tone.
Erich let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. "You don’t understand. They’re not going to strike us in a predictable way. We have to act now—before they have the chance to make a move."
Lyan listened, a faint smile tugging at his lips. They were both stubborn, and both had valid points. He respected them—Julius, the proud captain of the royal guards, and Erich, the crown prince who carried the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. But their differing perspectives often led to clashes like this. Lyan decided to let them settle it between themselves. He turned away, letting his eyes drift down to the royal banquet below.
The ballroom was lively and bustling, filled with the hum of laughter, conversation, and the soft melodies of the musicians in the corner. Nobles, adorned in their finest attire, moved in fluid circles, their chatter light and merry. The flickering candlelight from the crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the scene, illuminating the smiles of those present.
Lyan’s gaze shifted, his eyes catching sight of Lord Garrick. He couldn’t help but shake his head. Garrick looked like a fish out of water—uncomfortable, awkward, and clearly on edge. His eyes darted around the room, never settling for long. The man was nervous, as if expecting something to happen at any moment. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the stem of his wine glass, and his shoulders were stiff, like he was holding his breath.
"Just how stupid and more obvious can you be, Garrick?" Lyan muttered under his breath, unable to hide the hint of amusement in his tone. It was painfully obvious that Garrick had something to hide. Anyone with half a mind could see that the man was terrified—of what, Lyan wasn’t entirely sure yet, but he had a feeling it was related to his recent activities.