Livyat’s sharp eyes noticed that the Governor looked up at the Council.
After confirming there was no strong opposition, he continued speaking.
“Esteemed colleagues. The goods we purchased from the Elves have been resold by the clever merchants of the Republic, marked up several times and shipped all over the world. Countless gold coins have lined their pockets, and naturally, through taxes, flowed into our national treasury.”
“In these short twenty-seven days alone, the Republic has benefited by over a hundred thousand Ducats! One hundred thousand gold coins—enough to ease the Republic’s dire financial crisis. If we amend this proposal, how much will slip through our fingers? I ask you all to consider this carefully.”
He then launched into a lengthy report, laying out how the Republic had reaped rich rewards in less than a month—how every industry had prospered, and the state of finances was finally improving.
What’s more, the rejuvenated Republican merchants now had the capital to keep trading with the other human nations.
This, he claimed, was by no means a policy that harmed others for selfish gain.
At this, the murmurs of discussion grew even louder.
It seemed the nobles had a keen interest in speculation, and it was true that a great deal of money could be made from it.
This gave Livyat a sense of great advantage.
But when she glanced at Julia beside her, whose brows were still tightly furrowed, she didn’t dare be overly optimistic herself.
Livyat looked at Tesvelan sitting next to her, who squinted her eyes as if she were already asleep.
Carefully, Livyat reached out her hand and gently placed it on Julia’s leg.
Julia, lost in thought, looked up in surprise.
She saw Livyat awkwardly trying to give her a reassuring look.
Julia mustered all the muscles in her face to force out a smile, telling Livyat not to worry about her.
At last, the Governor finished his data report, confident that his choices and actions were for the Republic’s benefit.
“I believe that Prince Jagiellon will also understand the Republic’s predicament. He will not make unreasonable demands of us, nor undermine the long friendship between our nations.”
Livyat could tell these words weren’t meant for Prince Jagiellon at all—they were directed at the Republic’s council members and bureaucrats.
The Governor’s greatest enemy wasn’t outside—it was inside the Council itself.
The steppe cavalry wouldn’t dare cross the border of the Grand Duchy of Tyrol, but the Northern Faction now dared to disrupt Council sessions by leaving the chamber.
After the Governor concluded his speech and left the podium, a commotion immediately broke out on the other side of the chamber.
It was clear that Prince Jagiellon was about to take the stage.
A rather plain-looking, stocky nobleman slowly made his way from the council seats to the front of the hall.
He carried no notes.
With all eyes upon him, he stepped up to the podium, removed his hat, and bowed.
Then, with a deep, sonorous voice like a bass drum, he began his speech at an unhurried pace.
“Here, I, your prince, thank Hobrik and its masters—especially His Excellency the Governor—for giving me the opportunity to stand in this Council, which resounds with the voices of generations past, and to speak my mind in glory.”
“All of you—including His Excellency the Governor—surely know what I mean. Landingst, this great city, was restored from ruins two thousand three hundred years ago. Since then, it has been relocated several times, but the ancient ruins remain; one only has to go to the outskirts to see them. Citizens of the Republic! I want to ask you: Who, for thousands of years, occupied Landingst, until the marble turned to ashes and the sea lanes were choked with wrecked ships?”
The prince looked to the center of the Council chamber, where the Governor sat.
“I will answer for His Excellency the Governor—it was the Elves. The Elves conquered this nearly impregnable city.”
Everyone present knew these things, to some extent.
Still, they felt more like ancient legend, or at best, background to the founding of New Landingst.
The oldest events the Republic truly cared about—and insisted on commemorating—were the secret histories of how Governor Riccardo Dandolo once annihilated the fleet of the Kingdom of Canmelot.
“I am not here to deliberately bring up the Republic’s past humiliations. I know, too, that the indomitable citizens withdrew to the southern islands, and fought the Elves island by island. I merely wish to mention my own country—Frostweave. It did not even exist back then. There were seven kingdoms at the time, warring with each other but never to the point of utter destruction.”
Prince Jagiellon paused for a long moment, picked up a prepared cup of water from the podium, and took a sip.
Sweeping his gaze around, he found the chamber utterly silent, save for an occasional cough.
Only his deep, thunderous voice rumbled on.
“All seven kingdoms perished. Royal lines were exterminated, and commoners were driven to the great river as barge haulers. The honest shepherds were washed away by the river’s surging tides. Our capital, Mrozgrad, was once the camp where heroes fell on the frontlines. We bear memories of hardship and loss, just like the Republic.”
“I have absolutely no intention of meddling in your domestic affairs. But I must ask: How can you bear to sell the flagship named after one of the Republic’s greatest governors—Riccardo Dandolo—to the Elves at a bargain price? In the entire history of mankind, this is a shocking event! The Republic is selling its own sea to the Elves, selling its pride to the Elves!”
It was like a sudden clap of thunder.
This was meant to be a secret deal.
But it was impossible to keep entirely confidential.
In fact, many of the dignitaries present already knew.
But there was a difference between knowing privately and Prince Jagiellon publicly exposing it, right in the Council.
It was a slap in everyone’s face, making it clear that, in the eyes of foreigners, such petty dealings weren’t just financing or leasing—they were acts of betrayal.
The whole chamber fell silent.
No one applauded, and no one heckled.
Prince Jagiellon seemed satisfied with the effect.
He leaned back ever so slightly, a look of pride on his face.
“I do not know what benefits the Elves have promised, nor who made this decision to allow the Riccardo Dandolo to be leased to the Elves. I urge those responsible to reconsider. Is trading with the Elves so profitable that you must beg them, groveling, for permission to trade?”
“I believe, if Governor Riccardo Dandolo himself were to rise from the grave, he would never have agreed to this. That is all, my friends. I thank the Governor for granting me this opportunity to speak freely from the heart.”
With that, Prince Jagiellon ended his speech and returned to his seat.
He didn’t forget to cast a glance at the Governor, who had remained silent throughout.
If it had to be exposed publicly, the dignitaries could no longer pretend ignorance.
Since they couldn’t feign ignorance, they had to react—and once there was a reaction, it would gradually coalesce into a new, one-sided opinion.
Things would begin to change.
Who would have thought that everyone had actually known all along, but simply hadn’t voiced their opposition?
Thus, discussion broke out across the chamber, the voices growing louder and louder, as if everyone were hearing this shocking news for the first time and began condemning the decision.
At this moment, Julia, looking tense, saw her father sitting in the row below.
He raised his handkerchief and waved it lightly beside his ear.
It was a signal.
She quickly woke the nearly dozing Tesvelan beside her.