Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king-Chapter 601: Poisoned apple(2)

"I do not see the problem," Jasmine said, her brows knitting together, her voice gentle but firm, like someone trying to reason with a man whose fears they found excessive. "Would it not be beneficial to us? Would it not be a boon to accept the alliance proposal rather than refusing it?"

She looked around the room, hoping to catch a few nods of agreement, but found only careful, waiting faces. Alpheo, for his part, seemed unsurprised by her challenge; in fact, he almost welcomed it.

"I believe you are missing the point, ’’ Alpheo answered, tapping two fingers rhythmically against his temple as he spoke "There is no reason—no clear gain—for the Romelians to offer such a thing. Which means," and here his voice hardened, "either there is something hidden, something they do not wish us to see... or they have lost their senses altogether."

He paused, giving his words a moment to settle heavily into the gathering.

"I have exchanged letters," Alpheo continued, his tone cool as a steel blade, "with the regent who now holds power in the name of their young emperor. And while our exchanges were polite, even courteous, we were not — and will never be — friends.I found him to be of exceptionally sharp mind, which makes this move the even more confusing."

The firelight caught the tension in his face, carving deeper the line between his brows as he scratched thoughtfully at his temple.

"Even setting aside the absence of clear benefits for them," he said, raising a hand, "the cost of such an offer would be monstrous. Think on it: the great Romelian Empire, the self-styled ’Protector of the Star,’ lowering itself to request alliance with a princedom like ours? It is beyond humbling — it is humiliation made flesh."He gave a sharp, humorless chuckle. "And those people... the treaty a loss of face as a plague"

The room felt colder after his words, as if some unseen draft had slipped through the cracks of the stone walls.

Jasmine bit her lip in thought.

"What you say," she began, slow and deliberate, "is... just a projection, is it not?"She raised her chin slightly, meeting his gaze not as a wife to her husband, but as a counselor to her prince. "Even if you mistrust their motives, you yourself admitted the great benefits such an agreement would grant us."

The room was silent save for the low crackle of the hearth.Jasmine’s voice softened then, almost imploring."I am inclined, as always, to listen to you. Where you have led us so far, we have thrived beyond what any could have dreamed. You have never steered us into ruin, Alpheo."She folded her hands before her, her expression grave. "But I would ask you now for something more. Not shadows and suspicion — but reasons, solid and clear. For if we are to refuse something so grand, we must know beyond doubt that the danger is real. I am of course inclined to listen , and if you strongly feel like this we will heed your fears, but I would like if you could provide some strong proof."

She stopped, her last words hanging in the air like the closing notes of a solemn song.

For a heartbeat, Alpheo said nothing.He merely looked at her — at all of them.

"Well," Alpheo said, folding his arms behind his back and pacing slowly before them, his voice calm but edged with a quiet sharpness, "if you want actual, concrete downsides, then allow me to name a few — and trust me, there’s no shortage."

He stopped, his boots tapping once against the stone, and met Jasmine’s expectant gaze.

"First," he said, raising a finger, "there’s the matter of the stigma. Aligning ourselves openly with the Romelians would paint a target on our backs — one in garish, blinding colors."He let his hand fall to his side as he continued, his words growing heavier."We have just emerged victorious from a bloody war against the Oizenians and the Herculeians. And thanks to that... many of our ambitions, our interests, now lie outside our old borders."

He turned slightly, letting his eyes sweep over each of them, making sure they followed him.

"Next year," he continued, "I already intend to strike against the Herculeians once more. Their capital, is now ripe for siege. With the strength we have gathered, cutting off their supplies will be child’s play. And once their seat falls..."He allowed himself a cold, thin smile."...the rest of their princedom will crumble like dry bread in a storm."

A quiet murmur passed between a few in the room — the reality of it was exciting.But Alpheo’s next words snatched that flicker of triumph from their throats.

"Now imagine," he said, voice hardening, "imagine the outrage, the terror, among the southern princes if, just as we begin pressing our claims beyond our borders, we announce to the world that we are now hand in hand with the Empire."He snorted bitterly.

"It would not be some petty border war we would face, no. We would invite a great, screeching coalition of lords against us.

Must I remind you that the Romelians have tried many times to subdue the South under their dominion?Of course there is been a century of full peace now, but unfortunately the fear among the princes is still there.

If we were to enter into an alliance and expand at the price of another princedom.

Every prince would sharpen his sword and ride for our throats. Not out of love for the Herculeians —" he waved a hand dismissively, "— but out of hatred and fear for the Romelians."

He spread his arms as if offering them the image on a platter."A war we could never win. Not even with Romelian banners fluttering alongside ours.They were repulsed three times in the past when they were at their peak, now they have barely half the strength they had a decade ago.Plus even if we were to win, how much would the Romelians actually give us in territories?

And if that weren’t enough..." Alpheo’s voice dipped lower, darker as he continued . "There’s another risk — one even closer to home.The same one that made us refuse to ask for support from them during the war"

He pressed his hands flat against it, looming forward.

"Should Romelian soldiers march across our lands in ’brotherhood,’ what is to stop them from prying where they shouldn’t? A quick ’inspection’ of our warehouses, is all it would take to discover the secrets of our soap and cider industries .’’

He straightened, his face devoid of any emotions as he used logic to convince the room.

"All it would take is a few thousands men , and if they were to actually betray us and besiege our capital , what they would gain from it would far outweigh the price in diplomatic face they would bear.

And that " Alpheo said, voice steady but with a glint of iron behind each word, " may be exactly be their aim."

He leaned forward on the table "Perhaps they want to bind us, to wrap our hands in golden chains. To cut us off from any diplomacy with the other princes and tie us so tightly to them that we would have no other hand to shake but theirs.Which would be what will happen if we were to announce we were allies’’

He gestured broadly, as if showing invisible strings stretching across

"Because, make no mistake — for them, our importance is immesirable. We are an artery, bleeding silver straight into their markets. To lose us would be a blow to their economy they would never recover from’’

He paused, letting that ugly truth hang.

"And what of Lord Marthio?" he asked suddenly, his voice softening, almost thoughtful, yet no less dangerous."The man is old — his hair thinner than a spider’s web. When he dies, and his son takes up the regency, can we truly believe their position in the civil war will remain stable enough to mantain our relations?"

He tapped the table lightly, as if reminding them to think.

"If they were to lose the civil war , and we were to get stronger — when the Herculeians and the Oizenians fall — what would stop us from turning our markets inward, seizing the monopoly they depend on like a drowning man seizes a rope?That old man probably want to make sure that even if his successor was not as good as him, such an eventuality would not happen, given that our relationship would turn into our dependace on their existence."

At those words, Shahab — who until now had sat stiff-backed, his earlier joy still flickering in the corners of his mind — felt his heart sink deep into his gut.The hopeful vision he had painted for himself, crumbled like a child’s toy before a hammer.

Was that truly their aim? he wondered, dread creeping down his spine.To turn our prosperity into a leash? To tighten it little by little, until we danced only to their tune?

Alpheo did not miss the flicker of doubt on Shahab’s face, nor the grim set of Jasmine’s mouth.

"They have no true gain to see us as their equal," Alpheo said, his voice now a quiet storm. "What they desire is a younger brother — one who hands over his coins with a smile, who thanks them for their ’guidance’ while they hold on our purses..."

His lip curled slightly, somewhere between a sneer and a smile.

"It is against their every interest to let us grow strong. And that," he said, his voice finally dropping into an ominous calm, "is exactly what will happen once Herculia and Oizenia fall into our hands.Right now they are as weak as ever, and we are as strong as we have ever been.

The complete annexation of our two neighbors is now something we can actually pursue."

Of course for now, Alpheo’s ambitions were not so reckless as to tear down what had already been built with their strong neighbor in the north .

He wanted to maintain the current trading relations with the Romelian Empire — that was only wise. There was money to be made, advantages to be squeezed from the empire’s reach and hunger.But beyond that?

He recognized the danger that lurked behind any closer bond with them — like an anglerfish hiding its monstrous teeth behind a soft light.

Alpheo’s heart was far too restless to be satisfied with ruling over a simple principality tucked in the shadow of greater powers.No — he had grander dreams stitched into his bones.

He wished to forge a realm, not just a kingdom, but a power that could stretch its influence across the south.A realm that could wrest the south from Romelian hands, one city, one trade route at a time, until they were the ones having to bow their heads and recognize his forces as equals — not some little brother smiling meekly under their table.

As Alpheo’s words and dreams seemed to bloom, dark and promising, Egil suddenly rose from his seat so fast his chair screeched backward on the stone floor.His face drawn into a grimace of old, bitter memories.

"Take it from me," Egil said, his voice harsh and loud enough that even the guards by the door stirred, "the only thing trusting Romelians will ever get you is ruin."

His words lashed through the room like a whip.He turned his sharp, storm-grey eyes on each of them. "You think you’re special? My tribe thought so too. We were their ’partners,’ . And yet where are we now? Dead or sold.

We were invited with the promise of land and all that we had receive was misery.You think your case would be anything different?As no friend can there ever be between wolf and sheep, so an Empire has no allies, only vanquished and enemies"

A heavy silence followed.

Shahab, who had been quietly grinding his teeth in thought, finally exhaled and spoke — his voice quieter, but carrying no less weight.

"After hearing all this," he said, folding his hands before him like a judge passing a verdict, "I truly believe it would be better to refuse their offer.I am in agreement with both of them’’

With Shahab having flicked his allegiance over to Alpheo’s side, it was as if a stone pillar had shifted the very balance of the room.The old guard — Alpheo’s companions, those hardened by years of shared battles and older grudges — had never needed convincing to begin with, so they were with him since the start.

For them, there was no debate: the Romelians were a gilded cage, a polite dagger forever hidden behind a smile.They bore no good feelings for the empire that had once claimed them as property, and the thought of willingly walking into that embrace again was enough to twist their stomachs into knots.

The only one left on the other side at that point was Jasmine.

Alpheo’s gaze lingered on her — her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her emerald eyes glimmering with an internal battle.

For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

Then Jasmine, perhaps feeling all the weight of the stares upon her, drew in a long, careful breath and spoke — her voice softer than usual, but clear, like the chime of silver.

"All that we have achieved..." she began, her gaze sweeping across the circle of faces, "was born from trusting your judgment — all of yours. Until I met Alpheo, my fate was to be married off to another prince that would use me, as a horse taker would use a mare at best , or to a powerful lord at worst.

As such when considering matters of state, I always believes it would be better to lend ears to people whose experiences or skills are greater than mine."

Her lips pressed into a thin line before she continued, a faint flush of frustration coloring her cheeks. "Even now, though my heart tells me otherwise, I cannot turn away from the path that has led us so far. If I have trusted your opinion even when they conflicted with mine " she said, glancing most of all at Alpheo, "then I would be a fool not to trust you now."

A solemn quiet fell upon them.

There it was — the final piece.

The decision, heavy as a tombstone, had been made:they would refuse the Romelian offer.

And outside the windows, as if echoing their choice, the late sun stretched long shadows across the stone floor—dark fingers creeping in, as though the world itself leaned closer, listening.

With that decision, a path was set into motion. One that veered away from the comfort of the known, breaking free from the stillness of the status quo.

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