Chapter 354: What if I refuse?
Ethan noticed Faelith the very moment she entered the hall.
His eyes turned toward her instinctively, gliding appreciatively over the mature, sensual curves of the beautiful elven woman.
His gaze lingered on her generous cleavage, revealed by a bodice so tight it barely contained the glorious mounds of pale flesh straining against the fabric’s edge.
Slowly, his eyes traveled up her slender neck until they reached her noble elven face.
Faelith noted his presence as well. Along with his, she noticed the figures of Ysara and Amelia seated at the same table, both fifth-stage specialists.
A small gasp escaped her lips.
Seeing two such powerful warriors sitting so close to Ethan did not cheer her up in the least.
Her gaze then fell on Alice, a clearly very talented mage seated to Ethan’s right. The young woman clung to his arm like an affectionate kitten, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.
She was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful woman Faelith had ever seen in her entire life. Just as Ethan was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.
"Lady Faelith," Ethan called, casually gesturing toward the empty seat beside him.
He didn’t stand up. He merely gestured for her to sit.
This displeased Faelith somewhat.
A Lord should have shown greater courtesy to a lady of her status, but she merely sighed, swallowing the slight affront.
Her pale cheeks took on a faint rosy hue as she walked toward Ethan, her full hips swaying naturally beneath the tight fabric of her dress with each measured step. She stopped in front of the luxurious chair beside him.
She pulled out the chair with careful grace, running a slender hand down the small of her back to smooth the dress over the full curves of her buttocks before settling into it with all the elegance an elven noblewoman could muster.
"Do you like the weather in Goldenveil?" Ethan asked, and without a trace of shame on his face, he slid his arm around her back.
His strong hand traced the length of her spine before settling possessively on the curve of her hip, his fingers sinking lightly into the softness beneath the thin fabric of her dress.
It wasn’t appropriate, but Ethan didn’t care.
There was no reaction from the system even with the touch of the god of love active, so Faelith didn’t consider him an enemy.
Faelith let out a small, high-pitched sound, a subtle shiver rippling through her body at the intimate touch. Still, she maintained her composure.
"Y-yes, Lord Ethan. It’s a beautiful place, and the weather is quite pleasant."
"Great." Ethan smiled, turning his face to watch two new figures approaching.
Aerick and his wife.
Ethan nodded for them both to sit down, then turned his gaze back to Faelith, ignoring the newcomers with calculated nonchalance.
"What are your terms?" she asked, getting straight to the point, her eyes fixed on his.
Ethan didn’t answer immediately.
He picked up the glass bottle and poured himself some wine, then filled her glass in turn. The emerald-colored liquid streamed into the crystal goblets with a soft, melodic murmur.
Faelith sighed, raising the glass to her lips and taking a cautious sip.
The sweet liquid slid down her throat, leaving a warm, silky trail in its wake.
It was divine. Truly divine.
"Ah..." She shook her head, her eyes widening for a moment. "It’s an incredible wine, Lord Ethan."
The young lord nodded, pleased.
"I don’t ask much of you," he said, his hand still firmly on her hip. "Your city, Greenleaf, will become the property of the Goldenveil family, and you may continue to rule it as its countess."
"Your family will remain in power. Overall, the biggest difference for you is that you’ll start receiving a salary as a public official and will have to govern in accordance with Goldenveil’s laws."
Faelith took another sip of the green fairy’s wine, her thoughts swirling in her mind.
Across the entire continent, a lord and his family were, in fact, the absolute owners of their lands and titles.
Even when they swore loyalty to a king, in practice this didn’t change much.
They had to follow certain rules and obey the kingdom’s laws, but within the regions they governed, they were the law—the judges and the enforcers.
Many declared themselves rulers by divine right, considering their lands to have been family property for countless generations.
What Ethan was demanding was, in essence, that this entire tradition be erased.
A unified and centralized state, where even the nobles were nothing more than mere employees of a greater power.
Many kings and emperors throughout history had already attempted to establish such systems.
And almost always, the result was countless civil wars.
Still, when Faelith cast a discreet glance at Aerick, another lord under Ethan’s command, she saw not a trace of discontent on his face.
She didn’t know if she would be able to find the same peace in such a situation.
"What if I refuse?" Faelith asked, her voice low.
"It depends." Ethan shook his head, his fingers slowly caressing her delicate waist, tracing idle circles across the fabric of her dress.
"There will be war. I’m sure Lord Fallenwinter is already gathering an army to deal with me. That he’s secured the support of many other men and even plans to use orcs against Goldenveil."
"That is correct." Faelith nodded, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.
"Many will die, both from Goldenveil and the allied forces. Those who surrender willingly will keep their lives; those who do not... well... may the goddesses have mercy on their souls."
Ethan took a long sip of the green fairy’s wine.
"If you refuse to accept my terms, you may return to your city. If you do not take up arms alongside Fallenwinter, you will live and have another chance to bow your head."
"Otherwise, we will meet on the battlefield, and the goddess of death will decide your fate."
Faelith fell silent, her fingers lightly clenching the crystal stem of the goblet.
Honestly, she was in no position to negotiate.
As an elf, taking up arms against the Tree of Life was a terrible sin. And even if it weren’t, what could she really do?
She had already seen Goldenveil’s forces up close, and watching the two fifth-stage experts who gazed at Ethan with unmistakable love in their eyes, she knew this war was lost before it had even begun.
She was a pragmatic woman, not overly attached to titles and power.
Like Fallenwinter, she was far more interested in the well-being of her people, though she didn’t carry the same trauma he did regarding his father.
"Will my people have the right to be as well-fed and respected as the people of Goldenveil?" she asked, her steady eyes meeting his.
"All the people under my wing—elves, dwarves, humans, whatever their race—are the people of Goldenveil."