“But fear not. Astra’s crimes were indeed severe, and I dealt with him the moment I learned of them,” he added.

“…”

Canbraman’s response was calculated and unflinching. Unlike other royals who might cling to pride and deny any wrongdoing, he admitted fault with disarming frankness.

Not only that, he had already punished Astra before the Northern delegation even arrived.

“Even if this goes against the imperial will, even if His Majesty is unwell, and even if Your Highness’s rule is inexperienced, this cannot simply be overlooked,” Gard said, his frustration barely concealed.

‘…!’

‘Those barbaric Northerners!’

The ministers’ faces twisted with anger at the envoy’s audacity.

Already tense, their expressions now suggested they might execute the delegation and launch an invasion at any moment.

“If it cannot be overlooked, what then? Do you plan to wage war? Or will you raid the Empire’s central and northern regions?” Canbraman asked, his tone eerily calm as he stared down the delegation.

‘Hmm…’

Envoy Gard, sensing the tension in the room, suppressed a sigh and spoke cautiously.

“Of course not, Your Highness. Her Highness, the Grand Duchess, values peace above all else. However, resolving this matter has cost us a considerable amount of gold.”

“But thanks to this ‘Mary’s Blessing’ you’ve been touting, your recovery should more than compensate by next year, shouldn’t it?”

“The issue is making it through this year. On top of that, the recent return of the Northern Expeditionary Force required us to host a grand banquet to honor their service, further straining our already limited finances…”

Gard trailed off deliberately, making his point clear.

Just give us the money already!

The Empire would undoubtedly appreciate the North’s subtle plea for financial aid.

Indeed, the atmosphere in the imperial chamber softened slightly.

Although disdain, annoyance, and contempt remained etched on the faces of the imperial ministers, the undercurrent of fear, hostility, and suspicion had noticeably dissipated.

“Is that all you want? No requests for trade agreements or anything else?”

“That is correct,” Gard affirmed.

“Well, I suppose we do bear some responsibility in this matter,” Canbraman said, his tone lightening at the realization that mere gold could resolve this troublesome affair.

What a shame, Gard thought bitterly.

If the imperial family had been more shameless, or if Astra were present in this room, he might have leveraged the situation to negotiate better terms.

But the crown prince had preemptively neutralized such possibilities, leaving the North with little choice but to pursue their minimum goal.

“Very well, we’ll do as you ask. I’ll discuss the exact amount with the ministers later.”

“Your grace and generosity humble us, Your Highness.”

“Ah, now that I think of it, the North doesn’t use Eastern porcelain, does it?”

“Porcelain? You mean the white ceramics from the East? I’ve heard of them but never seen them,” Gard replied cautiously, thrown off by the sudden shift in topic.

“Is that so? I was considering sending some as a gift along with the gold. Would you accept?”

Gard frowned slightly, unsure of Canbraman’s intentions.

“Lately, Eastern porcelain has become all the rage across the Empire and every other kingdom on the continent,” Canbraman said, gesturing toward the chamber ceiling.

“Here in the imperial palace, and even in Bardenheim, the capital of the Confederacy, nobles who lack porcelain at their banquets are looked down upon.”

His words subtly pricked at the pride of the Northern nobles.

“As you know, the Eastern sea routes are treacherous. Between raging storms, sea monsters, and pirates, few vessels return unscathed. Porcelain, being so fragile, rarely makes it here intact—nine out of every ten pieces break during the journey.”

Gard and the other envoys followed Canbraman’s gesture, their gazes rising to the chamber’s ornate ceiling.

“However, two years ago, the Golden Tower developed a magical container that keeps items perfectly secure. Thanks to this innovation, much more porcelain now arrives safely in Arcadia.”

Attached to the ceiling were intricately decorated white ceramics from the East, displayed like exquisite sculptures. Compared to the rough, earthy pottery of Arcadia, they radiated an unparalleled elegance.

“What do you think? Wouldn’t the Grand Duchess appreciate such a gift?”

“Thank you, but no, Your Highness. We would prefer gold,” Gard replied firmly without hesitation.

“Why? Do you suspect we’ve tampered with the porcelain?”

“Of course not, Your Highness,” Gard assured him.

The reasons for his refusal were twofold.

First, as Canbraman had said, the proposal was suspicious.

Second, the introduction of porcelain to the North would likely lead to problems similar to those caused by spices and silk in the past.

Spices and silk, like porcelain, started as rare luxuries but quickly became insatiable drains on resources once they gained popularity.

If porcelain became a trend in the North, it would create yet another dependency on the Empire.

Perhaps that’s exactly what they intend.

Convinced of Canbraman’s ulterior motive, Gard spoke plainly.

“If I were to bring porcelain back instead of gold, Her Highness would see it as a grave misstep on our part.”

The North, which was just beginning to recover economically, could not afford such indulgences. While some Northern nobles might secretly use porcelain, it was imperative to keep such extravagance out of the High Tower.

Even the magical bag the Grand Duchess carried had spread like wildfire through the North in no time.

“Very well. You’ll receive your payment in gold and silver,” Canbraman said, nodding as though satisfied with Gard’s response.

He seemed to understand that introducing porcelain to the North would harm its fragile economy.

I’ll have to report this to Her Highness once I return, Gard thought.

If the Empire were true to form, merchants would soon begin selling porcelain to the North indirectly. The North needed to prepare for that eventuality.

“Then, with thanks for the kindness of His Majesty and Your Highness, we shall take our leave,” Gard said, preparing to depart.

“Very well. We’ll host a banquet this evening—don’t leave without attending this time,” Canbraman said with a sly smile.

“Of course, Your Highness. We look forward to—”

“Wait, Your Highness,” a voice interrupted.

Turning toward the speaker, Canbraman’s expression grew tense.

“Hmm… Archbishop Teresia, do you have something to say?” he asked, his tone laced with unease.

“May I ask the Northerners a few questions?”

Archbishop Teresia, head of the Imperial Church, stepped forward. Dressed in a white robe embroidered with gold thread, she appeared to be in her forties, but her aura and position suggested she was far older.

“…Proceed,” Canbraman said reluctantly, closing his eyes for a moment as if bracing himself.

“Thank you. May the gods bless Your Highness,” Teresia said, offering a customary benediction.

As head of the Imperial Church, Teresia was a figure even the crown prince couldn’t easily overrule.

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