Concord? Blanc asked himself.
It wasn't unusual for each Noble Blood to name their gatherings differently from everyone else. Many clung to the need to appear unique, one of a kind, hoping to carve value out of even the smallest distinction.
But Blanc did not judge; such a petty detail paled compared to the lengths other Noble Bloods had gone to in the past just to brand themselves as unique.
Since being unique meant being special.
And to be special was, for many, the only desire worth chasing, the comfort of knowing that in a certain field, there was no competition left to threaten them.
For the Noble Bloods, that desire translated into one thing and one thing only. Holding onto their power for as long as possible.
"The reason I gathered you all here is that there are many matters that must be addressed," Lucien said to all present. "First, I wish to properly welcome Blanc, my son-in-law, and all of his Blood. Noble Blood Denegis was always among the High Monarch's favorites, and so I ensured our alliance was valued greatly. And it has proven to be one of the best decisions we ever made. Despite even my own doubts, Blanc managed to protect my daughter, his wife, for two months while in hiding, before they finally made contact with us. A feat the High Monarch himself would have proudly commended, were He still alive. Blanc, please, allow me to shake your hand properly."
As Lucien rose from his chair, Blanc did the same, stepping out from behind the veiled pillars and walking toward him.
It felt awkward, even a little embarrassing, with his mind still trapped in survival instead of high politics, but he made his way forward nonetheless.
He held eye contact with Lucien for the few seconds it took him to get there, his back straight, his chest proudly inflated.
There was no rush in his steps, taking his time before making the other, for even a walk was a calculated game for the Noble Bloods. Rushing to finish the awkwardness only showed impatience, while taking too much time appeared as stalling or unwillingness.
The political games were a tiring thing to witness, but they held a beauty of their own. As with each heavy step Blanc took, echoes roared around the circular room, deafening any sound that might have left the lips of others.
Now, a foot away from each other, Blanc stopped, taking Lucien's hand into his own, and shaking it lightly.
"Thank you for your kind words, Father-in-Law," Blanc nodded with a pleasant smile.
"I told you before," Lucien smirked, "You can call me Lucien."
"Then I will do so freely, Lucien," Blanc replied, the awkwardness in his mind gone.
"Wooo!" Mera yelled as she started clapping, breaking any intent for silence that might have been.
But her actions cascaded, and before long, all people present were clapping joyfully, sending the circular room into a constant rhythm of controlled chaos.
"Now that they do not hear us," Lucien began, still holding onto Blanc's hand, "I may have a request for you, Blanc."
"Will you mention it at this Concord?" Blanc replied, still holding onto the smile from before, so as not to stop the clapping from coming.
"I am still to decide that, but if I do not, come late in the night to my room for a drink and a proper discussion between family and all our future," Lucien said with a smile.
"Is it that serious?" Blanc muttered.
"It may not seem as such, but I fear it might," Lucien nodded as the clapping slowly stopped.
Once the echoes subsided, Lucien let go of Blanc's hand.
"Once again, thank you for all you have done so far, Blanc," Lucien said out loud.
Blanc took a large step backward before bowing deeply to him, "I promise you I will continue to do so, even if it kills me."
With that, he rose, turned on his heel, and went back to his chair, sitting between his wives.
"That performance deserved a reward," Celine grinned, whispering in his ear, "Pity we cannot do anything at the moment."
"I have some ideas," Blanc replied, his smile telling Celine everything she needed to know.
"It sounds fun, but Lucien started speaking again, so make sure you pay attention," Miyanna whispered to the two.
Which brought them back to the ongoing Concord.
"Secondly, word of the Iron Line's current position hasn't come forth in a while, which is a concerning matter," Lucien began, "But what is most concerning, however, is the departure of King Yalan and his men returning with all those they have captured back to the Ulveth Kingdom."
Whispers began to echo around the room, but a question broke all of them.
"Do we know the reason why?" Auren asked.
"Not at this moment," Lucien shook his head, "But if I were to guess, it's to either place the captives in a safe place where we cannot get to easily, to bring more troops, or because something has happened on their side which required him to return to his home and consolidate his power."
None dared to speak their thoughts out loud, although it seemed a good development to their situation in their eyes.
But they knew if the former advisor of the High Monarch said it was concerning, then they surely missed something he would soon correct.
And they were right, as, after a moment of silence, Lucien continued.
"The issue I have with this is that it feels too good to be true on one side, and deeply worrisome on the other," he began. "The Iron Line is now more or less defenseless without the Ulveth Kingdom and its ability to command Morois in battle, which was their greatest asset. And beyond simply losing sight of the captives, we now lack any reliable intel to warn us if, the next time they march into our Empire, it will be with a thousand soldiers… or a hundred thousand. Or what other cursed abominations they might have bent to their will."