A firm knock on the door caused Corco to stop writing mid-sentence. Not too long ago, his thoughts had been clouded by deep worries. The defilement of his father's grave and the war for succession had grasped his mind and never let go. However, over the past few days, answers and good news had piled up into mountains which had crushed his worries and cleared his mind, even though some of the answers hadn't been to his liking, to say the least.

Thus, he had finally found time to write out his thoughts on governance and morality. He intended to repay the debt he owed as soon as possible. Self-taught as he was, Corco didn't have a teacher to present to the green prince and his sister, but the knowledge he would offer was far more valuable.

Once he had started to write, he had fought himself over how much of his secret treasure horde he wanted to give away. On one hand, the future was unpredictable and any modern wisdom he spread outside could be used by eventual foes. On the other hand, what he would reveal wouldn't change the fundamental strength of the Verdant Isles. On top of that, becoming the de facto teacher of the future green king could prove to be invaluable, and one could never have enough allies. In short, things had been going so well, Corco already considered the time after he would take over the throne.

“Enter!” he said with his eyes still glued to the paper in his front, trying to pick that sentence back up where he had left it.

Fadelio's attempt at opening the door was complicated by the stacks of writings behind the hinges. After some hesitation from the warrior, a bit of force overcame the obstacle and created an avalanche of paper. The study had already been small before, but since his Corco had sunk into his own writings again, it had been further filled by a steady stream of old books, new drafts and crumpled up mistakes. At first Fadelio gave his master a careful look to check if he had disturbed a part of his friend's absurd sorting system, but he was soon relieved to find him undeterred in his endeavor. No longer burdened by his bad conscience, Fadelio could fulfill his duties.

“Master, we are ready for the meeting.”

Corco looked up and spotted the tall man across the desk, through the flecks of paper that danced in the air. The deferential attitude his friend had been showing ever since their return to the capital was still strange to the prince. However, he did not let it show on his face. For now, they would still adhere to the rules of others. Only once they took control of the empire could they implement changes.

The prince organized his papers as he watched his closest allies enter the room. Meanwhile, Fadelio was tidied up some of the paperwork to create enough space for all the new arrivals to sit. Both his uncle Sonco and his early ally Vitus Petrocilius took a seat opposite of the prince. After all the players had taken their seats, Fadelio closed the door once again to wait outside. Loyal or not, no warrior would be allowed to participate in secret talks like these, and Lord Petrocilius was still a stickler for the rules.

“So, where do we stand exactly?” Corco asked.

“Progress has been smooth. House Ogulno has decided to join our cause as well,” Vitus replied, his nose wrinkled from the strong smell of the paper.

Even though Corco still didn't share the conservative lord's convictions, his calm help had been invaluable throughout these days, so Corco returned a gratified nod.

“That makes 42 then. Just two more Houses and we have a majority in the Nobles' Assembly,” Sonco added in a flat voice.

His uncle seemed distracted, fiddling with the small, bound notebook and sharpened piece of coal. Ever since he had received them from his nephew, Sonco had used his new treasures to keep track of all the estates and their allegiances. After Corco had gifted him the simple items ten days ago, his uncle had brought them everywhere he went.

“Earlier, the younger Saliena came by for a talk. The old Lord of Porcero has made his decision and transmitted it to his son. It seems like Porcero has been convinced, just like you expected.”

“43 then. Excellent. Just one more house and we have a majority.”

His curiosity piqued, Petrocilius looked over Sonco's shoulder and stole a glimpse at the notebook. At the top of the list, he found a strange entry.

“What about Pluritac? Why would the prince's House not vote for him?”

“Urgh...” Sonco grunted as his forehead wrinkled in annoyance.

Just the thought of the answer taxed his self control to its limit. It took his all not to crumple up his precious notes. Instead of the incapacitated Sonco, Corco answered the question with a cynical smile.

“Well, technically, Spuria Ichilia is the empress mother. Which means that, technically, she is the head of the house. Can you see that woman ever cast a vote for me? Maybe one on my execution, but nothing else.”

“But... she's an Ichilia. How could she be in charge of the Pluritac vote?”

Vitus widened his eyes, though Corco couldn't tell whether it was in shock or in fury. The lord should have been well aware of the rules of nobility, but Corco still answered with patience. The eastern lord should have a hard time believing that his precious, all powerful rules could be bent and abused to such a degree. Maybe he would see the light once he was confronted with reality.

“That's how it works. The second a woman leaves the doorstep for marriage, she becomes part of her new family. You knew that though. That's how our ancestors set up the rules.”

“In any case, we will need one more name on our list,” Sonco chimed in to end the pointless back and forth between his nephew and his friend, “Fortunately for us, I have been invited to a meeting tonight at Lord Rubria's mansion. If we can win over one more family, one of our two tasks will be complete.”

“Isn't the Rubria clan firmly entrenched in Amautu's side? What would they want with us all of a sudden?”

Corco smelled a conspiracy, another one.

“I'm not sure. But it cannot hurt to at least go over and hear them out,” Sonco replied.

“It's strange. It makes no sense for them to invite you, especially not now, so close to the meeting of the Ancestral Hall. They would only make an enemy out of Amautu and draw our suspicion at the same time. You can't-”

“Perhaps they have decided to cut their losses?” Sonco cut off his nephew's worries. The final vote was far too important. With a majority of the estates behind them, not even the Ancestral Hall could block their path. “I don't care what exactly their plans are, but at least we need to give them the courtesy and show up there.”

“...Could you... just wait for a while, Uncle? There really is no reason to chance things.”

“Now that we're this close? My boy, you need to take hold of your chances wherever you may find them. We should finish this entire farce with one final push.”

For a few, endless moments, Corco sat there as he looked right into his uncle's eyes. He could see the man's firm will, his determination. The prince realized that he wouldn't change his uncle's mind. Disappointed, he relaxed his posture.

“...fine. But I'll come with you.”

Petrocilius sounded uncomfortable as he shoved his way into the conversation.

“Prince, your presence will be required at tonight's banquet. It will not be possible for Prince to follow Lord Saqartu along.”

“You're kidding me, right? He's not going by himself!” On this, Corco would not, could not back down.

“It is part of tonight's schedule. Halfway through the night, at the height of the festivities, Lord Saqartu will return together with the final member of our alliance. The moment will bond the lords together like nothing else could. Prince's role will be to greet and entertain the guests until then. Before tomorrow's assembly, we need to put as much pressure on the ancestors as we can.”

With a probing look over to Sonco, the prince had figured out the game of the two old lords. It seemed like his uncle had recruited Petrocilius to help convince him. Corco had already wondered why the eastern lord had come along for a routine checkup. The worst part was that they were right.

Tonight was their best chance to galvanize the lords in a single, grand event. His worry wouldn't disappear, but once he thought matters through, he realized that his brothers had no reason to attack Sonco. It would only harm their reputation and weaken their position at the assembly. After he had thought through all possible scenarios, Corco decided to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest. His head told him that there really shouldn't be any danger, and with all the knowledge he had stored within, there really shouldn't be any outcomes he couldn't foresee. Thus he chose to acquiesce to his uncle's demands.

“At least you'll bring Fadelio then, as my representative. And I'll send some of my men along as protection. That should be fine, right? You really should be careful though.”

Unhappy with the constant nagging, Sonco wrinkled his brow. He was an accomplished warrior, after all. However, his nephew's worries were no reason to start a fight, so he decided to let the topic lie and raised his hands in capitulation. Instead, he focused on the second major hurdle in his nephew's succession.

“So what about the Ancestral Hall then? Do we even have a chance?”

“Shouldn't really be a problem. With all the rumors floating around, we've created far more pressure than the hall can reasonably bear. We even made sure to move them up the ranks through the warriors and nobles. Together with my former status as crown prince and the strong support from the lords, we won't leave them a choice.”

Although Sonco opened his mouth, no sound would escape. After a short gasp, he leaned forward for his second attempt at a reply, but hesitated again. Even then, Corco already knew what this would be about.

“Say it. Please. Let's just get it over with,” the prince said with narrowed eyes. He hadn't heard a word, but was already getting angry.

“We really should make use of all our cards, my boy. That secret your men fought so hard for is the strongest play we have. Make it public. If we do, we will guarantee our victory. Corco, if you could just-”

“That's enough!” Corco tried his best to be patient, but really couldn't bear to hear this. After the unsavory memory had resurfaced, the prince broke off his uncle's speech with a shout that shook the walls of the study “Uncle. I'm serious. Don't. We've already done as much as we should. I know you don't like my father. And you don't like my grandfather either.”

“My boy...”

Sonco tried to apologize, but Corco had no interest in apologies right now. He needed to vent somewhere. Vent all that anger and frustration.

“No. I get it. You have a problem with my family, the evil northerners who killed your sister. But that's no reason to ruin the reputation of my entire house over the claims of a single spy! If we keep following this trail, we could be playing right into Amautu's hands! We have done what we needed to secure our victory. It's time to stop.”

With a grim mien, Corco sank back down into his chair. He was exhausted, both in body and spirit. Sonco still looked apologetic, but unsure of how to comfort his nephew, he decided it would be for the best to let matters be for now. There would always be time later to change the boy's mind.

“Then I will get ready for my meeting with Lord Rubria. I need you to remain calm and entertain the lords once they arrive. Swear them in on the same course. Prepare a good speech if you can. You should write it down maybe,” Sonco said with a look at the flood of papers around them. “Once I get back with Lord Rubria, we will be able to show strength. We will unite our forces into a firm fist to smash apart the false smiles of the silver palace.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

The curt reply made Corco seem like a pouting kid, his arms crossed and his face towards the side. With a sigh, Sonco got up from his chair and left the room. He was sure that his nephew would calm down until tonight. After all, his temper was already much improved from before. At this point, he would only indulge in his rants in more private settings, where they couldn't be used against him. Only in private could he put down his mask and be himself. In a way, the tirade showed Sonco just how much his nephew trusted him. He was determined to honor that trust.