Chapter 281: The Price of Sincerity
"What is this?" asked Kellar, his face maintaining an impassive mask though his eyes remained locked onto the ring glinting upon the heir’s finger.
"A gift of goodwill, Great Shaman," responded Prince Caelen, offering a nod toward the golden chest.
Kellar did not reach out. Gazing at the container, he offered a chin tilt toward one of his commanders. Thorin, an imposing warrior with a square jaw, stepped forward, unlatched the metal clasp, and lifted the lid. After inspecting the interior, Thorin stepped back with a bow, confirming with the gesture that no danger loomed.
Yet upon fixing his sight on the chest’s contents, Kellar felt an internal jolt. Resting at the bottom lay the severed head of Varis. The deceased advisor’s face still bore a frozen grimace of disdain, despair, and resentment. The marks across the withered flesh made it clear that his death had been neither peaceful nor swift; he had been subjected to torture before taking the blade to his neck.
"I trust the Great Shaman can appreciate our sincerity with this offering," declared Caelen with solemnity.
"I must say I am surprised," replied Kellar, leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. "It is no simple feat to cut away a cancer voluntarily... It must have proven difficult for you."
The shaman’s words carried a polish, yet held a venom beneath that highlighted how effortlessly the prince discarded his own pawns. Caelen grit his teeth, suppressing his anger, and merely offered a nod.
"Indeed it was," admitted the prince in a heavy tone. "My trust in my advisor was blind, yet in my blindness I almost committed errors. It was a painful act, but necessary for the good of the realm and my people. I trust this demonstrates that our intentions are pure and that we no longer harbor desire for enmity with you. We seek a peaceful coexistence that may nourish our peoples together."
Kellar could not help but form a smirk at the youth’s eloquence. Caelen possessed a silver tongue, an articulate diplomatic edge capable of draping fear and weakness under refined prose.
"Bring wine!" called out Kellar toward the entrance. "It appears the Golden Rose Kingdom arrives with true intentions of peace, and I wish to display our hospitality accordingly."
Several handmaidens entered the great hall bearing wooden trays set with carafes and vessels crafted of clear glass, serving the goblets among the attendees with graceful movements.
Upon receiving his, the prince inspected the piece against the torchlight and offered a marveling smile.
"What beautiful goblets... Do you manufacture these yourselves?"
"Indeed, Young Prince," responded Kellar, raising his own glass. "We have enjoyed free time lately to refine our production techniques. Do they please you?"
"They are crafted," remarked Caelen, swirling the crimson liquid against the crystal. "Simple in design, yet beautiful and clear."
"Your words flatter us," nodded Kellar, taking a sip before locking his gaze back onto his guest. "And tell us, Prince... aside from settling our past conflicts, why did you truly come? Bringing an entire convoy laden with riches merely for this seems exaggerated, wouldn’t you agree?"
"Not at all, not at all," replied Caelen with a smile and open hand gestures. "To demonstrate our sincerity, these tokens brought upon the wagons are nothing at all."
Prince Caelen set his glass goblet onto the timber table with a clink and leaned back, folding his hands with composure.
"Great Shaman Kellar," began Caelen in a slow tone, "the goods loaded upon the wagons outside are merely an initial token of respect. My father understands that trust cannot be purchased with chests of gold or rushed speeches; it is forged through concrete actions. Before we approach weightier matters or deliberate the future of our borders, we wish to lay the groundwork for a coexistence that benefits both sides without pressure."
Kellar took sips of his wine, watching the young prince with a sharp gaze.
"A prudent stance, Prince... Proceed."
"To begin," continued Caelen with a smile, "my father proposes an immediate opening of the Golden Rose Kingdom’s markets. We wish to formally invite the merchants and artisans of your tribe to cross our borders whenever they see fit. They shall hold freedom to sell their wares—such as this glass or your crafts—and purchase any resources you require within our cities, guaranteed tariff exemption and royal protection so that no noble or guard may harass them."
Grok and the captains nodded in silence; the proposal to enter the realm’s markets without paying taxes represented an economic advantage for the village’s growth.
"An interesting gesture," admitted Kellar, leaning his elbows on the table. "Allowing my people to trade freely within your lands demonstrates goodwill... yet I find it difficult to believe the Golden Rose Kingdom mobilized a royal convoy all the way to the Wind Mountains solely to grant us a merchant permit. Tell me, Prince, what is the true core behind this visit?"
Caelen released a breath and moderated his posture, adjusting his tone for the heart of the conference.
"The reality, Great Shaman, is that the stability of this region rests at a critical turning point. My realm has no desire to repeat the error of antagonizing a force of your caliber. What my father ultimately seeks down this path is a formal non-aggression treaty and military cooperation. We wish to ensure that the banner of the Overlord tribe and that of Golden Rose never cross paths on the battlefield again, but rather stand as an immovable front against any external threat."
Kellar formed a smirk and leaned forward across the timber table, projecting a presence that saturated every corner of the hall.
"It sounds intriguing, Young Prince... However, I am curious," interrupted Kellar, locking a calm gaze onto his guest. "What exact instability are you referring to? Has the Golden Rose Kingdom run into some sort of severe trouble as of late?"
Kellar’s question struck directly at the heart of the matter. Golden Rose’s offer appeared advantageous on the surface, yet the convoy’s haste and the prince’s voluntary humiliation concealed rotten thorns beneath the table.
Prince Caelen let out a cough, caught off guard by the shaman’s intuition. The young heir adjusted his tunic and forced a tight smile to regain his posture.
"My realm is strong and prosperous, Great Shaman," replied Caelen in a guarded tone. "However, like any great power, we perpetually navigate friction and conflicts with neighboring kingdoms. This treaty simply seeks to secure our shared borders and maintain a unified front across the regional zone."