Chapter 170
"And what exactly is your point?"
The moment Varkas answered in a frigid tone, Gareth, who had been fuming with rage, involuntarily took a step back.
Looking at him with weary contempt, Varkas continued mercilessly,
"I am fulfilling my duty as a loyal servant of the Empire. Wherever my heart may lie is not something that concerns Your Highness."
Gareth's sun-tanned bronze complexion darkened.
Staring at him with eyes filled with betrayal, he clenched his teeth.
"You swore to our mother. You promised to protect Aila and me..."
"And that is precisely why I am standing here."
Varkas interrupted him irritably.
"If I hadn't stopped it, Her Highness the First Imperial Princess would already have become Duke Heimdal's hostage. If I hadn't learned of the North's movements in advance and cut off their source of funding, we never would have isolated the rebels this easily. And now I intend to end this war as quickly as possible to prevent any harm from befalling Your Highness the Crown Prince."
Falling silent for a moment, Varkas stared directly at his cousin's face, flushed crimson with humiliation.
"What more must I do before Your Highness is satisfied?"
"Ha! You speak as though you're so righteous, but in the end you abandoned Aila and chose that bastard girl. Even now you're more concerned about her than about supporting me! So how am I supposed to believe your loyalty...!"
"Your Highness."
At Varkas's low voice, Gareth instantly fell silent.
Walking up to the Crown Prince, Varkas seized one of his broad, armor-clad shoulders and pressed down hard.
"We made a bargain. Did we not? In the end, Your Highness agreed to my marriage."
The veins in Gareth's neck and cheek bulged.
As the man twisted violently, trying to break free from his grip, Varkas pressed down even harder and murmured coldly beside his ear,
"Then why do you keep clinging to the past?"
In an instant, the Crown Prince's face turned ashen.
It was the expression of a man whose own hunting hound had suddenly sunk its teeth into his throat.
Varkas let out a long breath and finally loosened his grip.
"I sincerely believe ending the war here is what is best for the Empire. So I ask that you set your emotions aside and judge the situation calmly."
After giving Gareth's shoulder a light pat, he left the command tent.
The rich scent of damp earth immediately filled his nose.
Looking up briefly at the darkened sky, Varkas slowly crossed the encampment beneath the steadily weakening rain.
Between the rows of neatly arranged military tents, the harsh, desolate landscape of the Kairas Valley could be seen in the distance.
After establishing his headquarters at Veldis, which connected the East and the North, he had relocated part of his elite forces to the northwest in preparation for any unforeseen developments.
The new encampment was not only a strategic position from which they could march directly upon Amasek, the heart of Valto, in an emergency, but also only four days away from Castle Dollakan, the location most likely to host the peace negotiations.
He intended to remain there until the Emperor's final decision, then either advance north toward Amasek or proceed to Castle Dollakan.
Fortunately, the negotiations had now been confirmed.
At dawn, he planned to head south to witness the signing of the peace accord.
The Emperor had already decided to send another representative, so there was technically no need for him to remain there himself.
Still, it would be wiser to stay nearby in case something unexpected happened.
Running a hand through his rain-soaked hair, he gazed toward the narrow gorge shrouded in drifting mist.
If the peace treaty was concluded successfully, House Heimdal would be overthrown by their own people, and the rebellion would be completely crushed.
Once that happened, he could finally return home.
'Though she won't welcome it...'
Letting out a bitter sigh, Varkas sat down on a crude wooden fence and took the canteen hanging from his belt to moisten his throat.
At that moment, a dark figure emerged through the rain, leading a horse.
Recognizing the man's face, Varkas narrowed his eyes.
It was Tyron el Drakan, whom he had stationed at Veldis, making his way across the camp while muddy water splashed beneath his boots.
"Your Grace."
Stopping before him, the man bowed respectfully.
Varkas frowned as he looked over his travel-worn appearance.
"What is it?"
"A message has arrived from Kalmor. I believed it should reach Your Grace without delay, so I came as quickly as I could..."
The man slipped a hand inside his coat but trailed off as his eyes swept over the surroundings.
Following his gaze, Varkas noticed the Crown Prince's Royal Guard lined up beyond the camp and quietly sighed.
"The Crown Prince merely came to complain after learning that I proposed the peace negotiations to His Majesty. Pay no attention to it and give your report."
"So it ended up happening after all."
Apparently just as weary of the conflict, the man smiled with obvious relief.
Instead of explaining that even after the peace treaty was signed they would still need to maintain pressure on the North by remaining along the frontier for some time, Varkas simply extended one hand toward the lancer.
The man looked momentarily puzzled before remembering why he had come and pulled a letter from inside his coat.
"Your Grace has been away from the castle for quite some time this time around. It seems a number of issues have arisen while you were gone."
Taking the crumpled bundle of parchment, Varkas stood and moved beneath the nearest awning.
The warriors gathered there around the campfire hurriedly made room for him.
He sat down at a table scattered with playing cards, dice, and drinking cups before unfolding the letter.
The ink had run slightly where rainwater had seeped into the parchment, but it remained perfectly readable.
Most of its contents consisted of reports concerning various legal disputes that had arisen in Kalmor, as well as the continuing raids by the barbarian tribes that still had not been resolved.
Reading through it with an expressionless face, Varkas's eyes narrowed when he reached the final section.
The lancer, who had been carefully watching his reaction, cautiously added,
"It seems the monster Her Grace the Grand Duchess is raising caused quite a commotion throughout the territory. They appear to be hoping Your Grace returns as soon as possible to settle the matter."
After reading the final line of the report, Varkas slowly crumpled the parchment.
A burning sensation spread from his temple to the corner of his eye.
As though trying to wipe it away, he covered his forehead with one hand.
Just then, the sound of a trumpet echoed through the camp.
Turning his head, Varkas spotted Gareth striding angrily across the encampment.
Apparently his anger had not subsided.
After casting Varkas one final blazing glare, the Crown Prince walked over to his Royal Guard.
He then mounted his golden horse in a single motion and led his knights northward.
Since he had been ordered to remain encamped at Amasek until the outcome of the negotiations was decided, he was unlikely to burst into the conference and ruin everything.
Tapping his temple lightly with his fingertips, Varkas soon rose to his feet.
"Call Beirof. We'll dismantle the camp immediately and return to the East."
"Immediately, Your Grace?"
The lancer looked genuinely startled.
As he walked toward his own tent, Varkas explained calmly,
"The negotiations will take place in southern Valto. There is no reason for us to remain stationed here."
"In that case, what do you intend to do with the cavalry stationed at Veldis?"
"I'll leave them under Daren's command... and yours for the time being."
Crossing the camp in only a few moments, Varkas answered as he pulled aside the flap covering the entrance to his tent.
The lancer's expression immediately darkened.
It seemed he had hoped to return to Kalmor together with his lord.
Varkas lightly patted the shoulder of the subordinate who had been away from his homeland for so long.
"The civil war will be over soon enough. Endure it just a little longer."
"Does that mean Your Grace intends to remain in Kalmor from now on?"
Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Varkas frowned.
If the negotiations concluded successfully, there would indeed be no reason for him to march to war again.
The fact that the ruler of the East had spent two full years away on campaign was already unprecedented.
He could hardly leave the management of his territory entirely to his retainers forever.
Perhaps ending his life in the field after this campaign would not be such a bad idea.
The only question was how she would receive his return.
"I suppose..."
Varkas stared thoughtfully at the flickering candlelight before picking up his armor.
"As for what comes next... I think I'll only know once I get there."