Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 136

Chapter 136: Unsavory welcome(1) Chapter 136: Unsavory welcome(1) As evening descended upon the city, the golden light of the setting sun spilled through the high windows of the great hall The guests, who had gathered for the coronation, now found themselves drawn into the grand feast that followed.  At the head of the hall, the table of honor was elevated above the others, draped in crimson and gold.

Alpheo sat there, placed in a seat of prominence beside Jasmine, his eyes sweeping over the lavish display.

To his left was Lord Shahab, who barely looked at him occasionally.

To the right of the old lord sat Jasmine’s mother, the dowager princess, her face serene but her eyes sharp, her eyes many times looking at the young man, who now was his son in law.

She exchanged quiet remarks with Shahab from time to time , who rewarded her with a small smile, that only a father could give To Shahab’s right sat a collection of minor lords, most of whom owed their allegiance to him.

Who made it a point to show their support to the royal marriage by extending their congratulations once they came to bear homage.

Alpheo looked around the hall, watching as nobles talked with each other and mingled together, most not bearing to share a look to him.

The young man however knew that this event was not organized to introduce him to the world’s of nobles, as it was instead organized to make money and make the coffers a bit more heavy .  The grand doors of the banquet hall swung open , no trays of roasted meats or goblets of wine accompanied the servants who entered.

Instead, they carried small, delicate trays bearing curious little cubes, yellowish-white in color.

As the servants moved through the hall, they placed one cube before each guest, along with a small urn of clear water.

A murmur spread through the crowd, as the lords and ladies, accustomed to extravagance, cast confused glances at the strange offering before them.

From the shadows at the edge of the room, an elderly man, draped in the deep blue robes of a royal physician, stepped forward.

His hair, long and white as snow, framed a face lined with years of wisdom.

He moved with deliberate slowness, allowing the anticipation in the room to build.

When he reached the front of the hall, he cleared his throat and raised his voice, his tone calm but commanding enough to capture the attention of even the most disinterested noble.

“Esteemed lords and ladies,” he began, his voice echoing in the vast space.

“What has been placed before you is not a delicacy to eat, nor a wine to drink.

It is something far more precious.

What you see here,” he gestured to the cubes, “is called soap, something that the gods saw fit to express by gifting wisdom to an ancient wise man that came to serve the princess as well as he could” The lords exchanged puzzled glances at the mention of that , but the physician continued, undeterred by the skepticism.

He lifted one of the cubes in his hand and held it aloft for all to see.

“This humble object,” he said, “will sweep away any foul odor, restoring you to your natural state of cleanliness.

But more importantly, it has the power to ward off illness and disease, which often cling to us” With slow, deliberate movements, the physician poured water from the urn into a basin and dipped the soap into it.

He demonstrated by rubbing the cube between his hands, creating a fine lather that began to foam and shine under the flickering candlelight.

A subtle, clean fragrance rose from the suds, refreshing in its simplicity.

“Rub it well between your hands,” the physician explained, “and cleanse your skin with it.

Be thorough, for the foam will carry away dirt .

It will leave your skin fresh and free from the foulness that clings after long days of travel or the rigors of battle.” He rinsed his hands, showing the lords how the water washed away the foam, leaving his skin clean and bright.

“Do this often, and you will not only banish foul odors, but you will help prevent sickness from taking hold.” The physician bowed slightly, stepping back from the table.

“This is a gift from the gods to your princess, who in her infinite generosity saw it fit to share with all ” he said with finality.

“May you all use it wisely, and may your health be safeguarded in return.” The nobles, still uncertain but curious, began to tentatively follow the physician’s instructions.

They dipped the small yellow-white cubes into the water, rubbing them between their hands.

Soon, the rich lather formed, and a delicate, pleasant scent began to rise from their palms.

One by one, they brought their hands to their noses, inhaling the unfamiliar but refreshing fragrance.

Murmurs of surprise spread through the hall, the skepticism melting away as they discovered the soap’s cleansing power and the unexpected luxury of its aroma.

“What is this?” a lord whispered to his neighbor, sniffing his fingers again, the clean scent lingering like a soft breeze.

“I’ve never smelled anything like it.” “It has a funny smell…” another commented, his brows raised as he marveled at thing As the excitement subtly spread among the nobles, Princess Jasmine turned to Alpheo, seated close to her at the table of honor.

A small, knowing smile played on her lips.

She knew the truth behind the surprise, and her eyes held a glint of amusement as they met his.

Alpheo was the true mastermind behind this new creation, a product he had presented to her in private just days before the feast.

At first, the princess had been skeptical. But he had been persuasive, explaining how this invention would lead to a substantial increase in revenue, by selling it to the various nobles Jasmine had humored him, testing the soap herself in her private chambers.

To her surprise, as she lathered the fragrant cube over her skin during bathing, she had found herself enchanted by its subtle floral scent and the softness it left behind.

As the initial murmur of surprise from the soap quieted down, the servants glided back into the hall, now carrying trays filled with large goblets of a golden-orange liquid.Each guest was handed a goblet, the nobles eyeing the drink with curiosity, not knowing it was apple cider.

The only thing resembling alcohol that Alpheo could produce in the short time he had Lord Shahab, seated near the princess at the table of honor, was the first to take his goblet.

He stood and raised the drink high above his head.

The hall fell into an expectant silence.

“To our gracious liege, Princess Jasmine, first of her name!

May her reign be prosperous and long, and may her wisdom guide us to glory!” Shahab’s voice boomed through the hall.

The nobles, feeling the weight of his words and the festive air of the evening, all raised their cups in unison.

“To Princess Jasmine!” they cheered, their voices echoing off the stone walls.

With that, the hall took their first sips.

A ripple of surprise quickly spread across the assembly as the taste washed over them-a crisp, sweet, yet slightly tart flavor danced on their tongues, unlike anything they had ever tasted.

It was refreshing, balacing between the apple sweetness and a mild, earthy bitterness that made it feel both sophisticated and simple.  At the head of the table, Jasmine sat with a knowing smile, exchanging a glance with her grandfather, Lord Shahab.

They had both tasted the apple cider before, days prior when Alpheo had introduced the new brew to them.

It had been a subtle, intriguing taste that had won them over immediately, and that immediately made them see the potential in it.

Lord Shahab observed Alpheo closely.

He had long wondered why the mercenary-turned-consort had taken control of several key buildings in the city, ensuring they were constantly garrisoned by his men.

Now, as the scent of the soap still lingered on his hands and the taste of the crisp apple cider filled the hall, it all became clear.

Shahab sipped his cider thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the implications.

Any plot against Alpheo now was not merely a challenge to the man, but a threat to the entire royal family’s interests.

If they had any idea about getting rid of him, after he passed his usefulness, now those were just distant and naive thoughts.

The young mercenary had embedded himself into the very fabric of the fure princedom’s wealth, leaving no room for manipulation or betrayal that wouldn’t come at a great cost to the crown itself.

It was a masterstroke, one that Shahab could not help but respect.

As the old lord’s gaze lingered on Alpheo, the mercenary raised his own goblet, taking a deliberate drink of the cider.

His eyes locked onto Shahab’s, as if he could sense the older man’s thoughts.  Yet, beneath Alpheo’s composed exterior, a simmering frustration gnawed at him.

Though seated at the table of honor, surrounded by the high lords and royalty, his companions-those loyal men who had followed him through battle and bloodshed-had been relegated to a distant table at the far end of the hall.

They were out of sight, positioned far from him, as if unworthy of sharing in the feast alongside the royal family Alpheo had argued with Jasmine over it, trying to convince her to allow his men to sit closer, to give them the recognition they deserved.

But she had been firm, unwilling to break with the traditions of court, where station dictated placement.

Despite his newfound status, even he could not sway her on this.

Now, as he drank, he glanced toward the far end of the hall, a shadow of discontent in his eyes.

His men laughed and spoke among themselves, their voices lost in the grandness of the feast.

Yet Alpheo could not help but feel a pang of guilt.

He had brought them to the highest halls of power, but tonight, they sat distant from him.

As the evening carried on, Jasmine leaned slightly toward her grandfather, her emerald eyes reflecting the glow of the candlelight.

“What do you think of these?” she asked in a quiet tone, her gaze lingering on the orange cider in her hand.

Shahab took a sip of his drink, his expression thoughtful.

“They will be on every noble’s list of luxuries soon enough,” he admitted.

” Everyone will want it.” Jasmine smiled, her lips curling with satisfaction.

“Perhaps marrying him wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” she said, her eyes drifting toward Alpheo.

He sat quietly, drinking from his cup, though his eyes were distant, locked on the far end of the hall where his companions sat, laughing and talking amongst themselves.  She studied him for a moment, noting the sharpness of his jaw, the strength in his frame.

He was young, skilled in war, and undeniably good-looking.

For a brief moment, she thought of the future and wondered if she could one day coax him into revealing the secrets behind the soap and the cider.

A wife should know everything her husband holds dear, after all.

“He’s a practical man,” Shahab continued, breaking her thoughts.

“He knows how to wield power, not just on the battlefield but in ways that matter to the crown.

Yet,” he paused, glancing toward Alpheo’s distant gaze, “he’s a man of loyalty.

Always keeps his friend close….” He turned to her ”Make sure to make use of it, never let them out of your sight, control them and you will have the key to control him too” Jasmine said nothing , but her eyes showed that she understood.As now the value of that young man was simply too great to be left unchecked, as it has been until now.