Lord Arlo led the guest to the table and gestured toward the designated seat in a manner precisely in line with etiquette. Laa was already waiting, and she rose gracefully, curtsying as they entered. The envoy responded with a much deeper bow, introducing himself as Sir Kants, in service to His Majesty the Emperor, and inquired about her well-being, initiating a polite, though somewhat meaningless exchange.

          Laa played her part, engaging in conversation about various topics such as the weather, recently popular music, and even inquiring about new fashion trends in the capital. As the only high-born lady in attendance, it was her role to maintain the conversation. She couldn't help but steal glances at Arlo, who maintained a stoic composure, though subtle movements of his fingers betrayed his nervousness.

          Her cousin appeared almost overly formal for the occasion, with each element of his attire intended to convey a specific message. His clothing, though simple, was made from the finest fabric. Delicate lilies embroidered on his sleeves represented their family crest, and two signet rings adorned his fingers. One indicated his position as the head of the family, while the other symbolized his military accomplishments and command over Army North. His long hair was intricately styled to emphasize his military background. Several small braids were woven on the left side of his face, while only two appeared on the right. Laa remembered that soldiers earned the privilege of wearing these braids to signify their bravery in battle. Each string was tied with a ribbon of a different color, signifying a particular achievement. Arlo qualified to wear an impressively large number of braids, but he usually preferred simpler hairstyles on ordinary days. It was evident that his choice today was meant to convey something important - perhaps a message that he was not to be trifled with.

          The fact that he had put so much thought into his appearance made Laa feel somewhat underdressed, despite the fact that one piece of jewelry she had chosen for the day was probably twice as expensive as everything he wore combined. The envoy, Sir Kants, was equally ostentatious in his attire. His vest bore an imperial eagle, and he played constantly with a ring, perhaps to draw attention to the symbol engraved in the metal, all the while maintaining polite responses to their questions.

          Laa ate her food to quell the growing pit of fear in her stomach. Were they going to talk about her marriage? The thought made her feel sick. Arlo, on the other hand, barely touched his portion, taking only small bites of each dish to avoid offending their chief's culinary skills. Envoy Kants followed Lord Arlo's example. They were on the third course when Sir Kants decided to address a topic of genuine interest to the hosts, much to Laa's relief - it wasn't about her marriage.

          "How is trade in the province, honorable host?" he inquired. "We've heard that the new port you've built on Jar Venette has captured a significant share of the market exchange on the river Rorg. His Majesty has received a complaint from our western neighbors."

          Arlo commented with a touch of sarcasm, "That's new, tribal leaders from the western bank complaining to the Emperor. Pigs are flying."

          "We were equally surprised. They claim that you redirected trade by lowering the toll," Sir Kants continued.

          Arlo merely shrugged, saying, "That's an overstatement, really."

          It was at this point that Laa realized the conversation was about to delve into topics she had no clue about. So many names were already mentioned - Rorg, Venette, western bank. Where was Jar Venette? 'Jar' meant an island, she made an educated guess, but why was it important? She had heard something about their family investing in the new port, but was it truly such a big deal?

          "But you've gained enough funds to order new battleships for Army North. Not a small investment, I'd say. Some people are expressing concern about the source of your income," Sir Kants pressed.

          Arlo's mask of stoicism almost cracked under the scrutiny. The envoy's questions were far from subtle.

          "As you mentioned, the new port is starting to compete with the old emporiums on Rorg, bringing in income and causing concern. Is that your point?" Arlo responded.

          Sir Kants, still denying any ulterior motives with a plastered-on smile, said, "Oh, no! Why would the empire be unhappy about its province experiencing economic growth? No, my lord. But what if the western barbarians lose their income? Their kings won't be able to keep their tribes in check. Chaos will ensue."

          Arlo emphasized, "That's precisely why Army North needs more ships."

          Sir Kants continued, "True! True! However, shouldn't there be a balance between civilian and military investments?"

          Arlo firmly replied, "If we can't defend the river, no new temple will stand for long. The river is our primary source of income, as you certainly know."

          Sir Kants retorted, "As it is for the barbarians, and their king is on the verge of losing power."

          Laa unsurprisingly understood nothing. What was the connection between building new temples here and the chaos in the Atriaani League to the west of the province?

          "Can you explain, sir?" She interrupted, immediately regretting opening her mouth when she felt Arlo's scathing gaze upon her. "How can their king lose power?"

          "Excellent question!" The envoy almost clapped his hands in delight but restrained himself from openly mocking. Laa suddenly felt uneasy.

          "The League cannot be considered a country in the same way the Empire is. It's an alliance of barbarian tribes who agreed to work together for mutual benefit and to our detriment. They chose a king," he released a short chuckle at the idea. "Choosing a king! Gods! Dark minds, indeed! If Atriaani lose their income from the trade on Rorg, the king won't be able to pay their armies. Without money, the only thing that holds them together, tribal leaders will rebel. Do you have any other questions, Princess?"

          If Laa had turned her head to the side, she would have noticed a dark expression on Arlo's face. Her cousin was unable to control himself to the point that his displeasure became visible. Maybe then she would have realized that revealing her lack of knowledge in front of an outsider wasn't a good idea.

          "I don't understand," she continued, "how can the king fall? Isn't he..." Laa struggled to express her thought, "...the king?"

          "Yes, yes, kings are kings because they are kings." The mockery was clear this time. The envoy didn't hesitate to nitpick at the more vulnerable target. Laa flinched when a wave of understanding hit her. She recalled all her lessons on imperial politics, looking for something she could say to salvage her impression.

          "But even then, isn't it good for us if they fall? We've been at war with them for years?" she mumbled.

          This was too much for Arlo.

          "For us, it is," he uttered with undisguised annoyance, "but not for everyone else."

          Laa flinched again, as Arlo spoke in a tone that was usually reserved for his archenemy, Lord Farg, the imperial advisor. She didn't understand how her cousin could hold so much hatred for a man who resided in the capital, days away from their home. Arlo tended to see Lord Farg's influence in everything when things didn't go well. Even a mention of the advisor's name would make him furious. Yet, she foolishly asked:

          "Who wouldn't like that?"

          Sir Kants looked delighted, smiling brightly as he swiftly gave an unwanted explanation.

          "Ach, Princess, nothing of the sort! Civil war in Atriaan means waves of refugees seeking shelter from violence and bands of brigands looting villages near the border. Merchants won't be able to transport their goods through the League's territory, fearing attacks. We'll be cut off from copper from the west and tin from the North. Timber, wool, and ceramics from the cold islands won't sail down the river."

          "Ach, you mean the Empire may suffer if the war in Atriaan lasts too long?"

          Arlo groaned. He should have taken some time to explain to her what not to speak about in order to avoid undermining him. His pleasure at watching Laa make a fool of herself was being overshadowed by embarrassment.

          "Wars rarely benefit anyone, except perhaps in offensive wars against a wealthy opponent, if won," he stated. "I doubt there's much more to add on the topic. Dear cousin, we're running out of wine. Please tell the servants to bring more. We've got an excellent wine from the south, Master Kants. It would be a shame not to try it."

          Laa got up quickly, keeping her head low. Sir Kants raised an eyebrow in amazement. Was Lord Arlo really going to send the princess on an errand like a common girl? The etiquette did not allow for even the most indirect comment on the host's ways, but wasn't the punishment too harsh? The girl was foolish, yes, but did anyone expect better from a woman? No, she did well enough in the beginning in the role of a hostess whose only duty was to entertain.

          The princess approached a servant by the door, whispered a few words, and then duly returned to her seat. By the time she came back, there were tears in her large eyes. The punishment wasn't physical, but the embarrassment definitely hurt.

          The wine was waiting in the kitchen, prepared in advance, and the job of actually serving the drink was given to a handmaid named Orla, who was experienced enough to not make any mistake that might offend the important guest.

          Only when their cups were full did Sir Kants attempt a political discussion again.

          "Do you know, Lord, that there are places where people don't know wine? Neither do they know honor nor good manners..."

          "Are you referring to my western neighbors again?"

          "No, your barbarians seem almost civilized in comparison, Lord Arlo. Maybe they've managed to learn something after centuries of living next to us?"

          A subtle compliment did not go overlooked.

          "Their wine, beer as they call it, is of the foulest sorts."

          "Oh, but Atriaani have honor at least. Foul honor, but still." Kants disagreed. "No, I'm talking of true barbarians, without honor, culture, or history."

          Arlo leaned forward in interest.

          "Oh?" He gestured, encouraging the guest to continue.

          "Have you heard about what has happened in Trakos?"

          "Trakos? It's to the south. They're exporting grain, and buying our craftsmen's production... They aren't even that far from here, but there are marshes between us where the river spills her waters on the low fields. Only by barges or through the mountains..."

          "Yes, yes," The envoy waved dismissively, his intention apparently not to argue the superiority of water transportation over land roads. "Have you heard what happened when barbarians managed to besiege General Mericas in his city?"

          "Besiege? You're joking!"

          Everyone knew that the barbarian tribes surrounding the empire lacked the organization necessary for managing the logistics of something as complex as a siege. Only the Atriaan League had the capacity to do so, but they were definitely not involved in this story.

          "Hard to believe, but I was there on a diplomatic mission back then. I saw everything with my own eyes," the envoy swore. "It was a weird siege. The barbarians did not even try to attack the walls, but they set up a camp nearby. Civilian refugees flooded the streets, public warehouses were emptying at a terrifying rate. No supplies were reaching the market. Food was barely enough for two weeks."

          "But where was the army?"

          "General Mericas locked himself in a tower with his Hawk squadron and a jug of vodka - a truly foul drink they prefer over wine in Trakos. They expected reinforcement to arrive in less than a week, but the army got stuck in the marshes. As soon as they got stuck, an epidemic spread. When it rains, it pours, you see. Their march was delayed significantly. The news about the situation in the city must have reached the barbarian commander because he demanded to open the gate, lest he take the city by starving it."

          "And he got an arrow in his skull as a response, I presume?"

          "Hah!" The envoy clapped his hands. "Who was supposed to shoot that arrow? All the soldiers hid in the castle, guarding military rations from the hungry rabble!"

          "So they opened the gate?" Arlo couldn't believe it.

          "Listen, Lord Arlo, I watched from a high tower, I saw everything, I swear my words are true. The fools opened the gate."

Arlo shook his head in disappointment.

          "And then?"

          "The barbarians started to loot the city. But there weren't many treasures to steal in there; all valuables were moved to the castle vaults for safekeeping. So they got to the castle gates and called to be let in."

          Sir Kants paused, adding more drama to his story.

          "The general started to laugh, told them to go to hell, they had enough supplies to last years, and he had forty martial artists in his ranks... But it didn't matter; the gate ended up opening."

          "How? Were there traitors?"

          "Correct, in the general's elite Hawks. There were a few who were natives of that city, had families amongst the rubble under the walls. They opened the gate. The barbarians charged the keep. Like a swarm of ants, falling by dozens when the squadron of hawks, those who had kept faith, befell them. The general charged them, better to die like a knight than go into captivity! He was like a storm! In shiny armor, spear in hand, his loyalists with him, and fighting like demons! Surrounded by a barbarian horde! What a sight it was! Such a display of Arts! Worthy of legends! They almost reached a port on a canal where they could have boarded one of the barges but..."

          "And what?" Laa urged, opening her mouth for the first time since she had returned to the table.

          "And out of the blue, Hawks gave up. They dropped their weapons, abandoned the general. Those who had the Art of swiftness jumped to the roofs and, like rats, into the city!"

          Both listeners blinked at the anticlimactic turn of events.

          "What?" Arlo uttered, "elite martial artists running away without a reason?"

          "Exactly! But what elites! Deserters without honor!"

          "And what next?" Laa urged.

          "Nothing, the barbarians looted the city, took as many slaves as they could manage, and withdrew before the imperial reinforcement arrived. I was there on an official mission representing His Majesty, so they didn't dare to touch me."

          "So they withdrew after all?"

          "They did! But what a humiliating win it was!" The envoy huffed and hummed in righteous anger. They didn't even punish the traitorous Hawks! Did not cut off the heads of the rabble leaders who opened the gate!"

          "Like some in the council demanded?"

          "Ach, yes! Prince Renard, Prince Janos, and Lord Advisor Farg had argued over the suitable punishment, but His Majesty listened to none and decided to show mercy." Then, he suddenly asked, "What would you do about it if you were in His Majesty's place, Princess, Lord Arlo?"

          Laa and Arlo held their breath, riveted in place like unmoving statues. Such a presumptuous question!

          Arlo raised his palm in a placating gesture before his cousin had time to say a word and put them in real trouble.

          "His Majesty is wise, and there are reasons behind his every decision. It's not my place to agree or not," he stated diplomatically.

          "It doesn't concern you now, but there are rumors that barbarians from Trakos are negotiating an alliance with Atriaani."

          Arlo pretended not to hear anything. He finished the previous thought.

          "...But if I have to express my opinion, I'd say had I been in charge from the very beginning, the problem wouldn't have come into existence in the first place."

          "What do you mean?" For the first time, the imperial envoy, who had so skillfully controlled the conversation so far, seemed a little bit out of his depth.

          "Because I wouldn't have lost the city, of course."