As the anticipation reached its peak, the grand doors of the hall swung open, heralding the arrival of Viscount Canelles. Dressed in resplendent attire befitting his station, the viscount exuded an aura of authority as he strode into the room with measured steps. His presence commanded attention, and the noble representatives rose respectfully to greet him, their gazes shifting momentarily from Piero and his companions to the esteemed host who held sway over the gathering.

With a gracious smile, Viscount Canelles acknowledged the assembled guests, his eyes lingering on Piero and the three women by his side. "Welcome, esteemed lords and ladies," he began, his voice carrying across the room with effortless charisma. "I trust you have all been enjoying the evening thus far. Tonight promises to be an eventful one, filled with intrigue and revelry."

The noble representatives, captivated by the viscount's presence, responded with polite murmurs of agreement. Yet, their curiosity about the unexpected guests seated beside Piero lingered, evident in the subtle glances exchanged among them.

Piero, noticing the viscount's arrival, stood respectfully as the host entered the room, but remained otherwise unobtrusive. He exchanged a brief nod with his companions, silently acknowledging the need for decorum in the presence of their esteemed host.

As Viscount Canelles scanned his hall, his gaze fell upon Piero and his companions. A flicker of interest danced in his eyes as he observed the trio, but he made no immediate move to address them.

Instead, he turned his attention to the assembled guests, engaging them in polite conversation and ensuring that all felt welcome in his home. The atmosphere in the room remained congenial, with the Viscount's easy charm setting the tone for the evening's proceedings.

Only after some time had passed did Viscount Canelles approached Piero and his companions, his gaze softened with empathy as he noticed the somber expression on Piero's face. "Baronet Piero," he began, his tone gentle yet concerned, "I understand that your father, Baron Sraffa, was recently lost in the war. My deepest condolences for your loss."

Piero inclined his head in acknowledgment, gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thank you, my lord Viscount," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "It has been a trying time for my people and me."

The viscount nodded solemnly, his expression one of understanding. "I can only imagine the challenges you must face in managing your inherited territory at the border, especially in these uncertain times," he said, his tone sympathetic.

Piero sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility evident in his posture. "Indeed, my lord," he admitted, his voice weary. "The borderlands are fraught with dangers, and maintaining order and stability is no small task."

Viscount Canelles sighed, his expression clouded with regret as he addressed Piero once more. "Baronet Piero," he began, his tone heavy with apology, "I must confess that while I empathize with your situation, my hands are tied with inter-regional problems that demand my immediate attention."

Piero's heart sank at the viscount's words, but he forced a polite nod, understanding the complexities of the viscount's position. "I appreciate your honesty, my lord Viscount," he replied, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I know you would offer assistance if you could."

Viscount Canelles hesitated, his expression grave as he spoke once more. "Baronet Piero," he began, his tone measured, "I regret to inform you that the kingdom's resources are running dangerously low due to the ongoing war. As much as I wish to offer assistance, our coffers are stretched thin, and our ability to provide aid is limited."

Piero's heart sank at the viscount's words, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him with renewed force. "I understand, my lord Viscount," he replied, his voice tinged with resignation. "I had hoped for assistance, but I know the situation is dire for all of us."

Viscount Canelles nodded solemnly, his gaze steady as he met Piero's eyes. "Indeed, Baronet Piero," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "But let us not forget the generosity of our king. He has exempted your territory from tax and conscription for the next five years, a boon that few others enjoy in these troubled times."

Piero's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of his immediate concerns pressing down on him with renewed intensity. "I am aware of the exemption, my lord Viscount," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "But while it offers some relief, it does little to address the pressing challenges I face in the here and now."

Viscount Canelles nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic. "I understand, Baronet Piero," he replied, his tone gentle yet resolute. "The exemption may provide long-term stability, but it does little to alleviate the immediate burdens weighing on your shoulders."

As Piero continued to voice his concerns to Viscount Canelles, his frustration mounting with each passing moment, he remained unaware of the jealous gaze fixed upon him from across the room. Cristoforo, his resentment simmering beneath a facade of false camaraderie, listened intently to the conversation, his smirk betraying his satisfaction at Piero's perceived failure to secure assistance.

As Piero persisted in his pleas for aid, Cristoforo saw an opportunity to ingratiate himself with the viscount while simultaneously undermining his rival. Stepping forward with false concern etched upon his features, he interjected smoothly into the conversation, his voice dripping with honeyed words.

"My lord Viscount," Cristoforo began, his tone dripping with false humility, "if I may be so bold as to offer my assistance to Baronet Piero. While I may not possess the resources of the kingdom, I am more than willing to lend a hand in any way I can."

Viscount Canelles regarded Cristoforo with a measured gaze, his expression unreadable. "Your offer is noted, Lord Cristoforo," he replied, his tone neutral. "But let us not forget the limitations of individual resources in the face of larger challenges."

Piero's patience, already worn thin by the day's events, snapped at Cristoforo's interference. "You dare to interject yourself into matters that do not concern you," he retorted, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. "Your petty attempts to curry favor will not go unnoticed, but they will certainly go unappreciated."

Cristoforo's facade of false concern shattered in an instant, replaced by a mask of thinly veiled hostility. "Watch your tongue, Baronet Piero," he shot back, his voice dripping with venom. "You may have the Viscount's ear, but you do not command his respect. Unlike you, I am not afraid to take action to secure my interests."

The heated exchange between the two men drew the attention of the assembled guests, their murmurs of surprise and intrigue filling the air. Viscount Canelles, ever the diplomat, attempted to intervene, but his efforts were in vain as Piero and Cristoforo continued to trade barbs, their rivalry escalating to new heights with each passing moment.

As tensions flared between Piero and Cristoforo, Viscount Canelles recognized the need to quell the escalating conflict. With a commanding presence, he proposed a solution that caught both men off guard.

"Enough!" the viscount declared, his voice cutting through the heated exchange. "If you two cannot resolve your differences through words, then perhaps it's time to let swords speak."

Piero and Cristoforo exchanged incredulous glances, the gravity of the viscount's proposal sinking in. After a tense moment of deliberation, they reluctantly agreed, knowing that the honor of their respective houses was at stake.

But as they prepared to select their champions for the duel, Mireille stepped forward, her expression determined. "I will fight on behalf of Baronet Piero," she declared, her voice ringing with unwavering resolve.

The assembled guests gasped in shock at Mireille's unexpected proclamation. Many believed it was unfair for a girl to face off against a seasoned swordsman, but Mireille remained undeterred, her confidence unwavering.

Cristoforo's champion, a tall man, eyed Mireille with a mixture of amusement and disdain. He had expected to face a fellow knight, not a young woman.

But Mireille refused to back down, her determination shining through as she squared off against her opponent.