Chapter 460: Lyan’s Gut Feeling (4)
Lyan tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck, though he knew the spirits could feel his embarrassment. "I may be a Viscount," he declared, raising his voice so all could hear, "but I am also still a mercenary, and I will continue to fight for the safety of Astellia and its people."
Another cheer erupted, louder this time. The soldiers banged their mugs together, and the townsfolk danced with renewed energy. Lanterns swayed, the firelight casting wild shadows, and the music swelled with a feverish joy.
Erich stepped closer, his voice lower now, meant for Lyan’s ears. "You’ve won them, Lyan. Their hearts and their faith. Few nobles could do so, even with a decade of rule."
Lyan’s smile remained steady. "I only did what I must, Your Highness. But this victory is fragile. I sense shadows that have not yet cleared."
Erich’s gaze sharpened. "You mean the breach. The way the enemy moved as if they knew your plans."
Lyan nodded. "Someone spoke. Someone warned them. And I intend to find out who."
Erich’s smile faded, his expression thoughtful. "Then you will need freedom to act. And as Viscount of Lisban, you have that freedom." He leaned closer. "I will see to it that no one questions your command, even if you choose to act against my own men."
"Thank you," Lyan replied, bowing slightly. "But for now, let’s not disturb the celebration. Let them remember this night as a victory, not a night of shadows."
Erich straightened, his face once again a mask of noble charm. "Indeed. Tonight, we dance, we sing. Tomorrow, we hunt."
He turned, raising his arms. "Celebrate, my friends! For tonight, Lisban lives!"
A roar of approval drowned out the night. Soldiers clasped each other’s shoulders, the music surged, and wine flowed freely. A young bard struck up a wild, joyful song, his voice ringing clear over the plaza. Flames danced higher, their light casting a golden glow over the faces of the revelers.