Silence fell heavily over the audience hall.
Even Gazef, standing rigidly at the side, felt his breath tighten.
To openly say such words before the King of the Kingdom—this was no longer mere boldness. It was a naked declaration.
Ramposa III did not immediately respond.
He looked at Villard—truly looked at him—for the first time not as a noble making a request, but as a ruler evaluating a rival force.
"You are very frank," the old king finally said. "Most nobles would already be trembling at my displeasure."
"That is because most nobles fear losing what they already have," Villard replied calmly. "I fear stagnation."
Ramposa III gave a faint, bitter smile.
"So you believe I am unfit to rule?"
"I believe," Villard corrected, "that Your Majesty wants to rule, but lacks the means. And I believe you know this better than anyone."
Gazef's fingers twitched at his side.
This was no longer a conversation—it was a blade pressed politely against the throne.
Ramposa III exhaled slowly.
"…You are not wrong."
The admission carried the weight of decades.
"I wanted to change this country," the King continued quietly. "I truly did. But the nobles resisted. The factions grew stronger. Even my Warrior Captain cannot be everywhere at once."
His gaze drifted briefly to Gazef, then returned to Villard.
"And now you appear—with an army that could crush half the Kingdom if it wished."
Villard inclined his head slightly.
"Which is precisely why I came openly, through the city gates, under escort, and stood before you now—rather than marching at night."
A pause.
"…Then tell me," Ramposa III said, eyes sharpening once more, "what do you want from my daughter?"
Gazef's posture stiffened.
Villard did not hesitate.
"Princess Lana is intelligent, perceptive, and understands power far better than most nobles twice her age. I require a partner who can manage the Kingdom's internal affairs while I handle its structure."
"You speak of her as a tool," Ramposa III said coldly.
"I speak of her as an ally," Villard replied evenly. "The difference is consent."
The King stared at him, searching for deception.
"And if she refuses?"
"Then the marriage will not occur," Villard answered immediately. "I will not bind someone who does not understand the path ahead."
That answer surprised Ramposa III.
Even Gazef's eyes flickered.
"…You would abandon such a politically advantageous marriage?"
"Yes," Villard said without hesitation. "A forced union creates resentment. Resentment breeds instability. I do not tolerate instability."
The hall grew quiet again.
Ramposa III slowly leaned back against his throne.
"You are dangerous," he said at last. "Not because you are cruel—but because you are rational."
Villard smiled faintly.
"I'll take that as praise."
The King closed his eyes briefly.
"…Very well. I will not decide this alone. Princess Lana will meet you. If she agrees of her own will, I will not oppose it."
Gazef looked sharply at the King.
"Your Majesty—!"
Ramposa III raised a hand.
"This is no longer something we can prevent by force, Gazef. The Kingdom has already reached that point."
He opened his eyes and looked back at Villard.
"But hear this clearly, Baron Villard," Ramposa III said firmly.
"If you ever turn your power against the innocent people of this Kingdom—if you make my daughter suffer—then even if I cannot stop you, I will curse your name until my last breath."
Villard placed a hand over his chest and bowed—deeper than before.
"That much," he said calmly, "I can promise."
The old king nodded once.
"Then go. You will be granted residence within the capital. We will speak again soon."
Gazef stepped forward.
"I will escort you out."
As Villard turned to leave, he paused briefly and spoke without turning back.
"Your Majesty."
"Yes?"
"You raised a good Warrior Captain," Villard said. "If the Kingdom had more men like him, things might have turned out differently."
Gazef froze.
Ramposa III gave a tired smile.
"…Perhaps."
The doors of the audience hall opened.
And with Villard's departure, the fate of the Re-Estize Kingdom quietly shifted—irreversibly.
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