The Iron Mine and the Unyielding Emperor
Lucian Drake's forehead creased, the slight shadow of a smile playing over his violet eyes. "And why not?"
A minister could no longer restrain himself. His voice boomed across the lofty hall, stern with resolve. "Your Majesty, this is our land! Our territory may not be yielded!
Lucian's face relaxed only slightly, his tone cool but laced with command. "Minister, you are right. The motherland is never to be yielded. But… the Ironforge Kingdom is proposing too much to overlook."
With a sweeping gesture of his arm, Lucian pointed toward the far horizon visible through the high windows of the palace. "A paltry three hundred K.M. of territory—let them have it if it pleases them."
Shock waved through the court. Another of the senior officials stood, looking pale but firm. "But Your Majesty, that land holds the Red Rock Iron Mine! If the Ironforge Kingdom takes possession of it, they could make weapons ad infinitum and threaten the Drake Kingdom with a terrible danger. I implore you, reconsider!
Lucian's laugh dispelled the tension like sunlight through dawn mist. "Ministers, you have no cause to worry. Even if they own the mine, it will take them years to produce weapons. Meanwhile, we now have the wealth to buy them outright—time, effort, and lives saved. Is that not infinitely wiser?"
A third of the ministers, who could not keep from raging, pointed a finger in Lucian's direction. "Your Majesty, are you afraid of everlasting shame? To give up your lands for the love of one woman…"
Lucian chuckled with gusto, the ring of the sound echoing through the marble hall like a crystal bell. "Let them curse and whisper! They are only sour grapes. If they want to speak evil behind my back, I will have them all beheaded and see who is bold enough!"
"Your Majesty, you must not!" The officials' appeals crescendoed in a desperate chorus, the reverberation bouncing against gilded pillars.
Lucian's rage blazed, a purple flame burning in his eyes. "Anyone who crosses me will be deprived of his position!"
The court was silent as if frost had settled over it. Officials clamped their lips, pride and duty struggling with fear. They had done their job already; the onus and repercussions now lay solely on the youth Emperor who defied convention.
A sudden voice shattered the silence. "Your Majesty, I need to say something!"
Lucian turned on the Imperial throne, his stance commanding, his violet eyes cutting like knives. "Prime Minister, what do you want to say?"
Prime Minister Thomas White stood up boldly, his grey head shining in the light of the lanterns. He bowed low, looking into Lucian's eyes without fear. "Your Majesty, the Red Rock Iron Mine is not only a part of our lands—it is a military strategic bastion. Young men from the Drake Kingdom fought bravely for its capture. It is a cornerstone of our country and cannot be exchanged. I beg Your Majesty to revoke this order.
Lucian's rage flared. "Prime Minister! Have my words carried no value? The first thing I do as Emperor, and you have the temerity to contradict me? You play the trump card of age and former merits, thinking I am afraid to act? Do you think you are that intimidating?
Thomas's voice sounded out with uncompromising loyalty. "Your servant is loyal to the Drake Kingdom, faithful to Your Majesty only, bearing no ulterior motive. I beg Your Majesty to look clearly!
Lucian's chest swelled with contained fury. After a charged moment, he spoke, nearly softly but with absolute finality, "Very well. I will reward your fidelity. From today on, you are excused from your responsibilities as Prime Minister. My dear uncle, you have worked a half-lifetime; rest now."
Pale as death, Thomas White's eyes went wide with shock. The Emperor—his sworn brother's son, the young man he had seen grow up—had actually sent him away.
A bitter, unnamable grief rose up in Thomas's heart. He had defended, guided, and counseled this throne for decades, and here he was, undone by the very hand he had served.
The court as a whole froze. The Emperor has really sacked the Prime Minister! The word ran like lightning among officials.
Thomas White had been the throne's right hand, indispensable in government. By doing away with him, Lucian risked upsetting the very machinery of the court. But none would dare speak.
"Your Majesty, this—" one official started.
"Jesting in affairs of state is forbidden!" Lucian's purple eyes flashed. "Any who dare defy me shall be deprived of office!"
Silence fell once more, heavy and oppressive. The repudiation, ironically, comforted the officials—they were secure as long as they complied.
Grand General Eldric Bennett stood to speak, but Thomas White's subtle gesture stopped him. Swallowing his protests, he retreated, suppressed frustration.
Lucian's eyes moved to the nervous envoys who stood before the throne. "Envoys of the Ironforge Kingdom, after you bring the pledged gold, silver, gems, grain, and tribute to the Capital, I, as settled, will relinquish the Red Rock Iron Mine to you!"
Silas bowed low, his face white but firmly controlled. "Yes, Your Majesty of the Drake Kingdom!
The Hall was held in suspense, a shared storm of wonder, terror, and the shared question in each courtier's mind: What is this Emperor's scheme? Is he mad. or so brilliant that no one can even begin to comprehend?