Chapter 403
Chapter 403
The determination of Solorel was unwavering.
Titus fell silent. After some time, he quietly handed over the key.
In the past, it was the esteemed elders of the vampires who would make the decisions for their future. The elders were the ones who decided to invade the east back then, a decision that had cost three elders their lives and left Titus wounded, unable to recover.
Although Titus had never condensed divine mana in the past, he possessed an extraordinary magical artifact that, coupled with his stunning combat abilities, could challenge even Solorel.
But that was all in the past now.
The present Titus, without his magical artifact and his body still suffering from unrecovered wounds, was no match for Solorel, especially with the myriad of war generals under the prince's command.
Titus' strength lay merely in his long-standing experience within the vampire clan and the position of his son, who had ascended to the esteemed role of a prince.
His son, Anakin Langston, was one of the strongest among the ten princes.
Aside from Solorel, his influence and cultivation were the most formidable among the princes.
Moreover, Anakin had ventured into the mysterious Lost Ruins a decade ago, his fate unknown to all. If Anakin was still alive, his level of cultivation would be unfathomable.
However, it was equally possible that Anakin was no longer alive, leaving Titus with the task of knowing when to yield as a wise man.
After Titus had taken his leave, Solorel took possession of the ten spatial rings. They were housed within a beautiful antique brocade box.
Solorel then proceeded to the dining hall.
Inside, Jonathan and the others hadn't yet begun their meal as they patiently awaited Solorel.
Not only did Jonathan require much support from Solorel, but he also needed to hold the prince, a senior court official, in the highest regard, even if the former didn't need to depend on him.
Rising, Jonathan addressed Solorel with a warm smile, “Prince Solorel, we are all famished. Please, join us.”
Solorel came to stand beside Jonathan, then suddenly, he knelt down, bending both knees in the act of extreme reverence.
Jonathan was taken aback and hastened to lift Solorel. “Prince Solorel,” he said, flustered. “What are you doing? Please rise!”
Jonathan was genuinely shaken. With Solorel's stature and age, this act of deference was unexpected.
What was even more surprising was that he could not lift the prince.
Aurora and Walrion were equally taken aback.
Solorel spoke solemnly. “I have let you down and caused you humiliation today, Your Majesty. Please punish me!”
“Prince Solorel!” Jonathan took a deep breath. “You have shown me sincerity today, and I understand your intentions. Please, rise, so we may discuss everything.”
Jonathan meant every word he said.
Solorel let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. At this moment, he knew that Jonathan had truly begun to accept and trust him.
Trust was akin to a slow-growing tree, and it wasn't going to sprout overnight, not especially between two strangers.
Solorel rose to his feet, presenting Jonathan with the brocade box. “Your Majesty, these are the spatial rings you requested.”
Jonathan accepted them and handed them to Aurora. “Ms. Aurora, distribute these rings among the marquises and hand the rest back to me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Aurora respectfully.
Lunch extended well past two in the afternoon.
The weather in Eastsummer was delightful, and the midday ambiance lent a comfortable lethargy to all.
Mabel and Beatrix indulged in some wine, and the sleepiness that followed had them retreating to their respective quarters for a nap.
Jonathan, however, could not afford the luxury of an afternoon nap, for Solorel was paying him a visit at his place.
The wise old court official waited patiently outside the palace, demonstrating an impeccable understanding of courtly manners.
Jonathan hastened to greet him and, upon seeing Solorel, offered a wry smile. “Prince Solorel, you're my elder. Please dispense with the formalities. It would make me feel uncomfortable if I can't be at ease with you.”
“The etiquette between a ruler and his subject is inviolable,” Solorel replied with a mild smile.
Taking Solorel's hand, Jonathan guided him inside, saying, “Let's discuss this inside.”
As they settled in the drawing room, Jonathan spoke straightforwardly. “I presume you are here to discuss some matters?”
His faith in Solorel ensured there would be no room for beating around the bush.
“There are indeed a few matters at hand,” Solorel replied.
Jonathan offered a slight smile, gesturing for him to proceed.
“The first matter pertains to your official coronation, Your Majesty. I intend to hold a grand coronation ceremony a month from now. All the princes from various regions are expected to return to attend,” Solorel stated.
Pondering over this, Jonathan said, “I doubt all princes will be amenable to this. They each have their territories and followers. Would it not lead to chaos when all of them return at once?”
To this, Solorel responded, “Your concern is valid, Your Majesty. I have given it due consideration as well. At that time, each prince must return alone. If any of them dare to harbor rebellious thoughts, I shall deal with them decisively.”
Jonathan couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle. “These men are longstanding members of the clan. Prince Solorel, I'm perplexed as to why you would be so resolute and ruthless against them to defend an outsider like me.”
To this, Solorel responded, “Your Majesty, you were personally chosen by our revered ancestor. I have faith in her wisdom as she has seen millenniums pass. What could possibly escape her discerning gaze? She proclaimed that only you could lead us through the coming strife. Therefore, anyone opposing you is courting disaster for our clan, and I simply won't stand for it.”
At that moment, Jonathan finally understood Solorel's thoughts, and with sincerity, he said, “In light of your trust, I will not let you down.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Solorel paused before asking, “Do you have any other concerns regarding the coronation ceremony, Your Majesty?”
“I have none. You may arrange everything.”
Solorel offered a small smile and proceeded, “The second matter pertains to the treasure vault. Here is the key. You should be in possession of it, Your Majesty.” As he spoke, he produced a key.
“That doesn't seem very appropriate,” Jonathan protested.
Nevertheless, Solorel stood his ground and said, “Everything is yours. It's only appropriate that you have it.”
After a moment of hesitation, Jonathan nodded and accepted the key.
Solorel continued, “Later on, I shall summon those who manage our estate, and they will present you with a comprehensive report of our financial status. How you wish to manipulate the funds will be entirely up to you.”
There was an earnestness in Solorel's words that reflected the depths of his sincerity.
Jonathan nodded in acknowledgment.
“The third order of business pertains to tonight,” Solorel went on. “I plan to hold a meeting at your
palace tonight, where I will call upon all my faithful adherents to swear their loyalty to you, Your Majesty.”
Jonathan appeared quite startled but quickly composed himself. “Prince Solorel, wouldn't that cause resentment among them? Hastiness could bring about unfavorable results. Let us take things slow. After all, you are here with me, are you not?”
Solorel's voice remained unyielding. “It is necessary to do so.”
Noticing his determined tone, Jonathan let out a small sigh of resignation. “Very well, then.”
A smile of victory flickered over Solorel's face. He then produced a silk pouch. “Your Majesty,” he said, “this was entrusted to me by our revered ancestor. She instructed me to pass it to you and advised that, in times of peril, when you find yourself backed into a corner, open this pouch.”
With these words, he handed the pouch to Jonathan.
The latter accepted it, examining the pouch carefully.
Inside his heart, a wildfire of curiosity was burning.
What on earth could be within this pouch? Is there an ingenious written strategy inside? What could the strategy be about, though?
Suppressing his curiosity, Jonathan tucked the silk pouch away.
“Your Majesty, I have spoken my piece. Do you have any other commands?”
“None,” Jonathan replied with a smile.
“Then I shall take my leave,” Solorel responded.
“I will see you off!” Jonathan offered.
“Your Majesty, please stay,” Solorel countered.
Jonathan knew Solorel valued the etiquette between the ruler and the subject, so he didn't insist.
However, Solorel soon returned.
“Your Majesty, it seems I've grown senile and forgetful. I neglected to mention another crucial matter!” he confessed.
Intrigued, Jonathan asked, “What other matter of importance is there?”
“In view of Titus' insolence, I have stripped him of the elder rank and made him surrender the key to the treasure vault. As for what is to be done next, I await your instruction,” Solorel said.
“How do you propose we handle it, Prince Solorel?” Jonathan queried.
Solorel said solemnly, “Titus holds high prestige within our clan. Your recent ascension, if coupled with his execution, could instill fear amongst our kin. However, if we show leniency, others may interpret it as weakness and deem you easy to exploit. I suggest I apprehend Titus and throw him into a dark cell. Tomorrow, when I insist on executing him, undoubtedly many will step forward to plead for his mercy.
You could then pardon him, displaying both your firmness and benevolence.”
Jonathan's eyes gleamed with delight at Solorel's suggestion. Prince Solorel does have my best interest at heart.
“Wouldn't this tarnish your reputation, though?” Jonathan asked. © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.
Solorel smiled and said, “Not at all. It's merely a game of good cop, bad cop, and it's only fitting that I play the latter, Your Majesty.”
Jonathan chuckled at his reply. Nonetheless, he asked in a puzzled tone, “I have never crossed Titus. Why does he display such hostility toward me?”
“Titus is a man without vision. He has an outstanding son, who has been rumored to have headed to Lost Ruins. He has always thought that his son should be crowned King of Gulden Vampir. Hence, he is not too pleased with you being crowned instead.”
“He has an outstanding son, you say?” Jonathan asked warily, a hint of murderous intent flickering across his eyes.