Touch of Fate

Chapter 159: Familial Denunciation

Chapter 159: Familial Denunciation

"That is an excellent point, Your Highness, but I think we both know what the eventual decision will be. You really have no other choice but to accept our proposal." The most senior member of the ambassadorial party was saying. She vaguely recalled his name being something along the lines Kelith, but it was always difficult to remember the excessively long and complicated names of the Sun Elves.

Andrea had to work hard at keeping her expression neutral. The sheer arrogance of these elves was simply unbearable. She hated interacting with their emissaries, but unfortunately, her brother, whose job this usually was, had pleaded weakness and escaped. It was obvious that he was just taking advantage of the events from a few days ago to skip out on an annoying duty.

[Damn you, Matthew. I'll get you back for this.] Andrea thought, while trying to focus her attention on what the irritating man was saying.

Perhaps sensing weakness, the elven ambassadors had wasted little time in pursuing their usual agenda. For the last few decades this had consisted of one thing, the elimination of export taxes on certain Almiran manufactured goods. The elves of Nirethial benefited greatly from the natural resources of the Forest of Shadow, but their isolationist nature had led them to fall behind in several of the technological developments that had swept the Inland Sea Region in recent centuries. This, combined with a minor cultural aversion to manufacturing in general, had led to a goods disparity that enterprising individuals took advantage of.

It was no surprise, when the few merchants allowed to bring their wares to the small trading post on the forest's border quickly learned to offer those items which were unavailable to the elves. Consumer goods, cheap magical tools, and alchemical products requiring specialized ingredients proved to immensely popular. Pretty soon, the merchants involved in this trade had become fantastically wealthy.

So successful was this trade that Andrea's grandfather, King Gregory I, instituted a tax on manufactured goods leaving through the eastern border. The move had been one of desperation, as the country had been gripped in an economically devastating naval war with the Ateshi Commonwealth, and the king had merely been seeking any means of replenishing the country's coffers.

The tax, while modest, was roundly denounced by the elves of Nirethial. They declared it a discriminatory policy, and have been petitioning to have it removed ever since. Unfortunately for them, it proved to be rather lucrative for the kingdom during period of otherwise stagnant tax income, and as such has remained in effect till the present.

Historically, the elves had lacked the political or military strength to force the issue, but with the current period of instability in Almir, they seemed to think it would be an excellent chance to push for concessions.

As such, they were offering to provide the kingdom some support in their war with Tennundi in exchange for a complete abolishment of the tax, and a limited free trade agreement for the next fifty years. While the Prime Minister (regent in all but name) was willing to suspend the tax in the short term, he knew that the kingdom would require all the income it needed to rebuild after the war. As such, the elves second objective had become something of a sticking point, and negotiations had stalled.

Ordinarily this would continue until one side compromised or gave up, but recent events had changed that. When a knight rescued her from the Tennundians with the aid of his dragon mount, it had international ramifications. Suddenly, Matthew and Andrea were assumed to have the undeclared support of the Dragonknights, or whatever remnant of them that existed. This catapulted them from uncertain long shots, to major contenders for the throne. Andrea had already been swarmed by a host of newly sycophantic nobles as a result.

A week ago, she was more concerned about passing exams and memorizing chants, now she had to deal with demanding foreign emissaries that thought she could somehow influence kingdom policy. It was enough to drive her crazy.

"I understand your point, Ambassador. Just as I understood it when you brought it before the council yesterday. My response has not changed since that time. We are still weighing our options, but we will make certain to inform you once we've come to a decision." She answered coolly.

Kelith who, despite looking middle aged, was probably hundreds of years old, nodded sagely. "Of course, You Highness. We understand that is sometimes takes the Kingdom a while to come to a decision, but considering the suffering of your soldiers fighting against your enemies, I felt morally obligated to speed the process along."

"If you felt so obligated to the people of our nation, why not offer your support freely? Why make it conditional at all?" She asked, growing tired of his hypocrisy.

"While I could lecture you all day on the complexities of international economic politics, the simple truth of the matter is that Nirethial is suffering under the strain of that unjust tax levied against us. So much so, that we cannot spare the resources to assist you in your plight." The elf replied with an exaggerated expression of sorrow.

[Gah! These people are so frustrating!] Andrea thought while trying to once again assume a neutral expression. It was proving difficult.

"Perhaps we should continue this another time. After all, this is a celebration of your rescue from the hands of your enemies. I'm sure engaging in matters of state is quite taxing, considering your recent tribulations." Kelith said with a slight smile, clearly enjoying the small victory he'd won.

"Thank you for your consideration, Ambassador. It has been a trying few days."

One of the envoys, a relatively young looking male elf, broke in at this point. "Speaking of which, where is your savior? I'm very interested in meeting him."

"Regretfully, the knight in question has neither the time nor inclination to attend such an event. His duties take him elsewhere, but I will be sure to pass along your desire for a meeting the next time I see him." She replied with a straight face.

The Third Prince faction had been tacitly encouraging the belief that they had an ongoing relationship with the Dragonknight, despite the fact that no one had seen the knight since the day of the attack. It gave them a degree of political clout that they could ill afford to lose, considering the growing intensity of the dynastic conflict.

Andrea just hoped that the Headmaster of the University succeeded in determining the knight's identity. The last time they had spoken on the matter, he was in the process of pursuing a strong lead and, from the sounds of it, he was getting very close.

Looking at the younger envoy, she continued. "I'm afraid I don't recall your name. Who may I say is asking for him?"

"My apologies, Your Highness. I am Farin Ulithindiel Lorethenica." The man answered with a smug smile.

He was dressed in the elegant ceremonial robes of the elven diplomatic mission. Much like the other members of his race, he had long, blond hair left hanging freely. His face was all sharp angles, with high cheekbones and a tapered chin. This made him seem beautiful, at least in the traditional sense, but there was something wrong about his eyes that she couldn't place her finger on. Andrea had grown used to the Sun Elves being condescending, but something about this man's mannerisms set her on edge.

"Then, I will make sure to let him know that the honorable delegation from Nirethial is interested scheduling a meeting." She said, as neutrally as possible, hoping that they would leave it at that.

Lola, one of her advisors, took advantage of the break in conversation. "Perhaps our guests would like to partake in the festivities. I have heard of the legendary grace of the Sun Elves, and I would love to have a few pointers regarding the art of the dance."

Kelith blinked, before putting on a condescending smile, "While I am a little too old to be indulging on the dance floor, I'm sure some of our younger members would be happy to assist. Isn't that right, Farin?"

"Of course, Ambassador."

"Excellent, then shall we move to the ballroom?" Andrea asked.

"Lead the way." The younger elf replied, with a slightly eager grin.

[Just have to get through tonight.]

The one named Farin fell into step beside her, as she began leading the way, their entourages following in their wakes. In an effort to make conversation, Andrea glanced in his direction. "So, are quite experienced in dancing?"

"I wouldn't say I am an expert, by the standards of my people, but I should be capable of offering instruction to those who don't have decades of experience like myself."

Andrea tried to keep her face from cramping. It was going to be a long night.

"My only concern is that my instruction may be too difficult...What is that monster doing her?!" He suddenly howled, a look of abject hate warping his features.

For a second, Andrea was too surprised to respond, and by the time she'd recovered, Farin was already advancing on a couple standing off to one side of the dance floor. She dimly realized that the music had stopped, and everyone in the room was watching the events.

Her heart sunk, as she moved to follow. She didn't know what was going on, but it had all the hallmarks of an international incident.

The elf had drawn up in front of a young human man, who was standing protectively in front of another Sun Elf, this one female. Judging from his body posture, Farin was ready to attack the man to get him out of the way.

"I told you to never appear before me, scum! How dare you show up during my first diplomatic mission?! I should have killed you when I had the chance, you abomination." The elf woman was cringing under the force of his words, although her face was strangely expressionless throughout.

The human, who had been caught in between the two parties, spoke in a cold, furious voice. "That's enough. I don't know who you are, but you have three seconds to get out of my face, or I will forcibly remove you."

There was a strange power to the young man's voice, which reminded Andrea of the masked Dragonknight.

"You are meddling in affairs that are beyond you, human." Farin spat derisively. "My business is with the pile of filth behind you."

"One..." The golden-eyed young man stated, his tone carrying an oppressive menace that had the envoy's guards reaching for their weapons.

Andrea felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, she needed to act fast. "Envoy Farin, I would like to remind you that you're still within the halls of my uncle, Duke Vamith. Attacking a guest of his, regardless of the reason, is a grave insult to both him and the Kingdom of Almir. Please consider your next actions carefully."

This rebuke seemed to get through to him, as the elf backed up a few steps, causing the human to relax a little as well, although his posture was still filled with a hostile energy.

Farin shot her a harsh glare. "It seems we have overestimated the quality of the Almiran royalty. To be consorting with the likes of a Pact Mage."

Suddenly, the whole situation made sense. Pact Mages are often subjected to discrimination due to the source of their power. Although it was not common knowledge, Andrea was aware that the elves of Nirethial had an almost fanatical hatred for them, viewing them as an abomination of the natural order. In fact, Sun Elves in general held negative opinions of them, so it was a bit surprising to learn that the emotionless looking elf hiding behind the young man was a Pact Mage.

It was then that Andrea noticed Broderick and Elaine standing off to one side, anxiety written across their faces. A small blue dragon was perched on the girl's head. The Princess recalled her cousin's words from earlier. The group of adventurers who'd saved her from kidnappers was in attendance tonight. A group that consisted of two humans, a beastman, and a Sun Elf.

Wracking her brain, Andrea tried to think of a way to avert the coming diplomatic crisis while still protecting her cousin's benefactors.

[This is going to be difficult.]