Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 127

Chapter 127: A prince’s ransom(1) Chapter 127: A prince’s ransom(1) As the negotiations came to finally start, Sorza was led toward the door by one of the guards.

His gaze, however, never left Alpheo.

The simmering resentment in Sorza’s eyes was unmistakable-a deep, festering anger at the man.

Alpheo, standing relaxed by Jasmine’s side, met Sorza’s stare without flinching.

Rather than showing any sign of discomfort, he offered a small, infuriating smile.

It was calm, almost amused, as if the whole situation was nothing more than a game to him.  As Sorza stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, everybody stopped as they stared at the young man in question Jasmine sighed deeply, her patience clearly thinning.

“I apologize for his behavior, Sir Marwoit,” she said, casting a frustrated glance at Alpheo.

“He can be… blunt, but I assure you he means no disrespect.” Sir Marwoit’s eyes narrowed, his voice sharp with offense.

“In our court, such insolence would never be tolerated.

A man who speaks out of turn to a royal would have his tongue removed for such an affront.” Alpheo, lounging casually, smiled as if the comment amused him.

He tilted his head slightly, his tone dripping with condescension.

“Well, it’s a shame, then, that you don’t have men like me in your court.

Sounds like you’d be left with a room full of quiet, obedient men…

who might fail at the first real test of wit or will.” Sir Marwoit stiffened, his eyes flicking to Jasmine to control who he thought was her errand boy , but Alpheo continued before anyone could respond.

“You see, sometimes it’s not the tongue that’s the problem.

It’s the people who don’t know how to deal with a man who can use it well.

A sharper mind and a sharper tongue-those can be worth more than any sword or soldier.

But I suppose that’s a little too much for some to handle.” Jasmine winced slightly at his words but kept her composure.

Sir Marwoit, visibly bristling, held back his temper.

“A sharp tongue without respect only leads to trouble,” he said coldly.

Alpheo smirked, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of defiance and amusement.

“Perhaps.

But then again, trouble has a funny way of finding men like me.

And usually, it’s those men who end up coming out on top, if it was not so, by this point our dear guest would be walking in the fine city of Saracina , with his banner on top of the castle walls.” Jasmine, sensing the rising tension between Alpheo and Sir Marwoit, quickly interjected, her voice calm but firm.

“Shall we focus on the negotiations?

I believe we have more important matters at hand.” Alpheo opened his mouth, grinning as if ready to add another quip, “Of course, I wou-” But before he could continue, Lord Shahab cut in with a sharp voice of authority.

“Enough.

If we allow you to prattle on, Alpheo, we’d still be here by sunrise.

Let’s settle what we came here for.” His gaze moved to both sides of the room, his presence commanding respect.

Alpheo, showing no sign of offense, simply shrugged and leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable as Shahab turned the conversation towards the truce.

“I propose a truce of five years,” Shahab began, his tone measured.

“The land has already seen too much bloodshed.

Both sides have suffered enough, and time is needed to heal.

Prolonged conflict will only serve to deepen the harm already done.” Sir Marwoit frowned, his eyes narrowing.

“Five years is too long,” he said stiffly.

“Such an extended peace favors you more than it does us.

One year should suffice.” The two men locked eyes, the tension returning as the weight of their positions settled heavily in the room.

Lord Shahab shook his head, unyielding.

“One year is hardly enough for any meaningful recovery.

You would have us return to arms before the wounds have even begun to close.

Two years would be more reasonable, and to consider extending the peace if both parties find it beneficial.” Sir Marwoit crossed his arms, thought for a moment and then decided to not reject the idea outright.

“Two years, then,” he said after a pause, though his voice carried an edge of reluctance.  Shahab nodded, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

“Agreed.

Two years for now, with the option to extend the peace when the time comes.

A reasonable solution.” Alpheo glanced between the two, offering no interruption.

Jasmine, relieved that the discussion was finally moving in a productive direction, let out a quiet breath, keeping her focus on the larger picture.

Lord Shahab, sensing the truce had been settled, leaned forward and clasped his hands together, his expression now businesslike.

“Now that the matter of peace has been resolved, it is time to discuss the ransom for Lord Sorza.” He paused for a moment, letting his words settle in the room before continuing.

“We expect a sum of 90,000 silverii.” Sir Marwoit’s eyes widened in shock, and he immediately stood, his voice indignant.

“Ninety thousand silverii?

That is nearly two years of our entire revenue!” His voice echoed sharply through the chamber.

“Such a sum would cripple our lands and coffers beyond repair.

You demand more than would be asked if you had captured the prince himself!” His face flushed with frustration, and he shot a glance toward Jasmine as if searching for some reason or intervention.

But she remained still, her expression neutral, unwilling to show any sign of favor.

Alpheo, who had been silently observing the conversation, leaned back . Maybe next time, he thought to himself, the idea of capturing the prince himself flickering through his mind briefly.

Lord Shahab, unfazed by the knight’s outburst, merely adjusted his sleeves and spoke again in his calm, unwavering tone.

” It is not an unreasonable sum considering the losses we incurred in the numerous campaign you had taken agains us.” His eyes fixed on Sir Marwoit, steady and cold.

Sir Marwoit, still fuming, struggled to compose himself.

“The most we could offer,” he began, voice lowering but still taut with anger, “is half that amount.

We cannot-will not-cripple our people for the sake of one man , no matter their status.” Lord Shahab folded his hands calmly, his voice as smooth as ever.

“Very well, Sir Marwoit, we can agree to half of the original sum.

The ransom will be paid in lump sum, in silverii, of course.” He spoke as though the matter was already settled.

But Sir Marwoit was quick to object, his tone firm and unyielding.

“No prince, especially not one in our position, keeps their yearly income in their coffers.

It’s simply impossible to provide that amount in one payment.” His voice was laced with irritation, clearly worn down by the negotiation.

Shahab raised an eyebrow, but his composure never wavered.

“Then perhaps you could take a loan for the remaining balance,” he said casually, as if he were offering a cup of tea instead of a crushing financial burden.

“It is not uncommon in such trying time” Sir Marwoit clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he stared back at Shahab.

“We will not take on a loan for this,” he declared, his tone final.

“My lord’s lands will not be burdened with debts.

This is non-negotiable.” The room grew tense as both men locked eyes, the intensity of their stares filling the space.

The soft crackle of a distant fireplace was the only sound as each man waited for the other to blink first.

Alpheo, reclining slightly in his chair, glanced between them, amused at the tension, but said nothing, watching the power struggle unfold with silent satisfaction.

Lord Shahab leaned forward slightly, an easy smile playing on his lips.

“If the money is too hard to gather,” he said, his tone light but sharp, “there are…

other ways to settle this debt.” His eyes gleamed, enjoying the leverage he held in this moment.

Sir Marwoit fell silent, his expression tightening as he weighed the options.

For a moment, he stared at the table, clearly struggling to find an acceptable solution.

The room remained hushed, the flickering fire casting long shadows across the walls.

Then, with deliberate care, the knight’s gaze shifted toward Jasmine, who sat composed, though her eyes were keenly watching the exchange.

He hesitated for a breath before speaking, his voice steady but carrying a new weight.

“Princess Jasmine,” he began, addressing her directly now.

“It has not escaped my lord’s attention that you are still unmarried.

Perhaps a union between you and the heir to the princedom of Oizen could serve to settle part of this ransom.” He paused to let the suggestion sink in, then added, “In exchange, we would also bear the cost of the marriage celebration, ensuring it is worthy of your house and status.” A silence settled in the room, the audacity of the offer hanging in the air.

Shahab remained still,Jasmine made no move as they all uncosciously threw a quick glance at Alpheo.