Author's note: This is the fifth part of a multi-part story and will not make much sense if you haven't read the previous parts. The last section of this chapter may be triggering for some.
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Orion stared speculatively at the wizened, shrewd face before him and chewed the inside of his cheeks absently. This was neither the first time he was interacting with King Andebert Olbrecht, nor the first time he was appreciating the old monarch's political acumen. He mulled over the question in his head once more.
"What makes you think that we need the Thistle Princess?"
Orion glanced at King Olbrecht's son, Crown Prince Fredenand, who was seated by his father and was intently polishing his fingernails using a buffer, having lost interest in the conversation a while ago. Vanity was a defining characteristic of the Prince besides cruelty, and Orion wondered if King Olbrecht harbored any disappointment against his only progeny in this respect. Orion cleared his throat and started speaking.
"The Prince's Coronation approaches. Pardon me for my impertinence, but we are aware that the Prince is not in the best standing with your countrymen. To have the Thistle Princess wedded to him will successfully strengthen his claim to the throne.
"Besides, you have chained the Thistle Dragon in your Castle for the last thirty years, parading nobles and highborn lords in front of him, hoping that he will bond with one. The Imperial Dragons grow restless at this treatment of their kin, especially as it is known that the Thistle Dragon had bonded partially with Princess Esmeralda before her... escape. Perhaps you are aware that you cannot command the Imperial Dragons' loyalties for much longer if this continues, so you have resorted to colluding with vampires and leviathans to gain an edge over us.
"Finally, unless the Thistle Princess finishes bonding with her dragon, she will live out the rest of her natural life and die one day, and when that happens, the Thistle Dragon will die too, prematurely, before its time. Even if the Imperial Dragons have not already turned against you, once that happens, they surely will.
"The economy of Vandan is in tatters. Discontent is brewing in the streets. This war was intended to be a diversion but the royal coffers are too depleted to allow you to wage this battle for far too long. All things considered, again, pardon my impudence, your Majesty, but I believe you need the Thistle Princess more than we need the Disputed Corridor."
King Andebert surveyed him impassively through pale blue eyes as he spoke. Orion stared resolutely at him, praying that the man would not see past his bravado. To his dismay, King Andebert laughed.
"Come now, Orion, I may be younger than you, but I am not a green boy. At least, for the sake of civility, let us try to admit that we enter this bargain as equals. The Disputed Corridor provides more fresh produce and cattle than the rest of Lohenstraad put together. Your crops are suffering owing to your harsh and unpredictable climes, and your country sits at the brink of a famine for the second time in a decade. You need the Disputed Corridor just as much as we need the Thistle Princess. And given the state of your royal treasury, I would assume you are no more at a position to continue this battle than we are."
"Let us just say, we have as much use for the Thistle Princess as you have for the Disputed Corridor," Orion said without inflection.
There was a tense pause in the conversation.
"I have to give you this, Orion, you have too many informers on our streets and in our court," King Egbert finally threw his head back and laughed good naturedly.
"As I am sure you do too, your Majesty."
"So, what do you want in return for the Thistle Princess?" King Olbrecht asked.
"We want the Disputed Corridor in its entirety, its taxes and produce forwarded solely to Lohenstraad coffers. You shall remove all of your troops from the Disputed Corridor. We want trade relationships to resume between Vandan and Lohenstraad. We want you to keep the vampires who migrated from Lohenstraad to Vandan. If you require help in disposing of them, the Lohenstraad Army shall assist you. In conclusion, we just want this War to be over, once and for all."
"I would like two additional terms added. Lowered tariffs for sheep wool and lumber and you shall wed my daughter."
Orion stiffened. "The tariff will not be a problem. However... while I am sure Princess Sira is very beautiful, I am afraid I shall have to decline." When Prince Fredenand made to rise out of his chair at this perceived slight at his sister, Orion raised his index finger at him and continued, "I was married once, and the memory of my wife's death is too fresh upon my mind to remarry. Surely, I hope you understand."
"Your wife died seventy years ago!!" Prince Fredenand exclaimed indignantly.
"And not a day goes by when I do not think about her," Orion said calmly, praying that bereavement would be a sufficient enough excuse to avert a political marriage. "Besides," he continued, "isn't it considered ill luck to marry both of your children at once? Let us concentrate on Prince Fredenand's wedding for now. I am sure he will be very happy with the Thistle Princess."
King Olbrecht sighed and turned to his son, who had abandoned his buffer and was now staring avidly at them.
"What does she look like?" he asked with greed and indecent curiosity splashed across his face.
"The Thistle Princess? She looks almost like her mother, except her eyes are green," Orion supplied helpfully, grateful that Prince Fredenand's attention had been diverted. Orion did not miss how King Olbrecht stiffened at the mention of Queen Estrilda.
"Well, what did her mother look like? I never saw her, did I?" Prince Fredenand began to sound annoyed.
"Did you know her? Queen Consort Estrilda?" King Olbrecht asked, unable to mask his profoundly personal interest in the woman.
"Yes, your Majesty," Orion answered shortly, beginning to feel frustrated with the direction of the conversation. But as usual, his self command was too great for any of his thoughts to surface on his face and Prince Fredenand repeated his original question, now sounding distinctly petulant.