The ground between the moat in the city was fine black soil. Fertile and rich, its minerals were unburdened with fields, produce, or livestock. So there in the shadow of its walls were fields of flowers. The flowers currently in season were Black lilies and White roses. Andrew recalled that his third wife loved these particular flowers. He tried to recall what they meant in the language of flowers she had told him once, but he'd forgotten. “Death and Love, maybe.” Whatever they meant, seeing the purple and white tapestry was a breathtaking sight that was beautiful and majestic.

Andrew couldn’t help but admire the sheer magnitude of Lapetra's defenses. However, he had to admit that Higgsbury's fortifications seemed rudimentary in comparison. The city’s walls loomed overhead, pressing down on the attackers like ants scattered beneath a giant’s feet. Two Antlatur armies had already smashed against those walls, and thousands of young men from the Antlatur alliance had perished, trying to climb them or batter down the gates. For many soldiers in the Antlatur army, these walls had become a nightmare. After the first Siege of Lapetra, there were so many bodies that the population reportedly survived on human flesh for three years. “I will tear down those walls,” Andrew vowed to himself. “I will topple this little Rebel Kingdom.”

“That would be them,” called Arthur Eaton, the leader of his companion cavalry and standard bearer for the day. Andrew followed Arthur's gaze and saw that the city gates had opened, revealing fifty riders. At the front were three figures: a standard bearer, a guard, and a queen. He noted that an equal number of people accompanied him.

This was a traditional meeting between monarchs during wartime. Monarchs typically never left their countries except for war, so they rarely met despite their ongoing schemes and rivalries. It was only during conflicts that a rare meeting was called to discuss the possibility of peace in a parley. The honor of both kingdoms ensured the validity of the parley; breaking it would bring eternal shame to the betrayer and their nation.

The Temple of Sia also guaranteed this meeting, as it consistently advocated for peaceful relations among human nations. If anyone violated the terms of a parlay, the Temple of Sia would excommunicate them and declare them an enemy of mankind. All human nations would be honor-bound to attack them and sever relations.

Although the Temple of Sia had recently declined in influence, Andrew particularly disdained it, especially the high priest in his kingdom, Jonathan Mills. Although it never wielded much power on the Western continent, everyone was still obliged to respect its authority.

Andrew mounted his stallion, determined not to head to the meeting place until he saw Veronica. This decision stemmed partly from security concerns, as the meeting location was beneath the city's walls and within the range of fire. However, the main reason was his reluctance to wait for his counterpart. He was the king of a significant power, while she ruled a small Kingdom.

Despite calling this meeting, Andrew believed she should wait for his convenience, not the other way around. His stallion, a white creature covered in mithril armor painted gold, was the source of his nickname. He himself donned a full adamantine plate adorned in white and green with gold accents.

He rode forward, trailing him to where his companion cavalry, to his left and right was his standard bearer and the Marshall saint of Antlatur, Rasmus Mortur. He rode within 10 feet of her. His companion cavalry were 10 feet behind him and 10 feet behind her, keeping their distance to avoid accidentally causing a fight. Neither spoke, and they just spent a minute observing each other. This was the first time they were meeting. It was the first time Andrew had ever met anyone from the Black family despite hearing about them and hating them his entire life.

Veronica's beauty had faded but was still visible under all the wrinkles and gray hairs. She was of average height and build for a woman. She was 55 years old, and the years showed. She wore a relatively plain Black military uniform. Five stars gleamed on her epaulets, and her Crimson cloak was fastened with a gold brooch flecked with ruby. Her long, pitch-black hair had gray streaks in it. Despite all this, her golden eyes shone with power, and the aura around her dominated. Andrew felt smaller in her presence, reminding him strongly of his mother and Queen Marianne of Triton. Andrew felt small and insignificant in comparison to the mighty Giants of the continent. But he couldn't look or feel inferior in front of his subordinates, especially to a queen of a small and insignificant nation like the Kingdom of Black. He braced the muscles in his stomach and projected as much confidence and strength as he could.

On top of her head was the only serious piece of finery she wore. A Golden Crown inlaid with rubies the size of eggs like blood dripping into her black hair. It was a crown that had been worn by Francis the Liberator. At the Battle of Hayden's Ford, Francis had reportedly ripped the crown off the head of the King of Antlatur. The king's blood had dripped off the crown and into Francis's hair, and he'd been hailed King of the newly established Kingdom of Black. It was the birth of its iconic emblem and words, which were given in the form of a promise made by Francis, “Blood for Blood.”

Next to her were a woman and a man. The woman was Veronica's standard-bearer; Andrew didn't know who she was. But the man was famous, Luca. No one knew his last name or even if he had a last name. He was a big and ugly man with rust-colored hair that was greasy and unkempt. He was pale, and his skin was saggy. His lips were thick, and his eyes were narrow. But he, despite his appearance and presumed low birth, was the Marshall saint of the Kingdom of Black and a famous one at that.

“So,” the Black queen finally asked. Her voice came off cold and indifferent.

“So,” Andrew was shaken due to her aura and confusingly responded.

Veronica sighed, and Andrew saw the glimmer of interest in her eye leave. “You called this meeting Golden Stallion, so why don't you say your peace and stop wasting everyone's time?” She sounded completely disinterested as if he was barely worth her attention. Andrew felt a bubbling hot anger, the same rage as when Roderick had hit him. But he tamped down on it. He couldn't attack her here.

Andrew put on a smile. “I have six times the soldiers you do. I have your city completely surrounded. I have Siege engines ready to destroy your precious walls.”

He was about to continue when Veronica interjected, “You have five times the number of soldiers I do, half of your armies on the other side of the Black Knife. You have my city completely surrounded. Nonsense, we can still sail down the Black Knife River unless you magically obtained a river fleet, and we still have complete naval superiority. You claim to have Siege engines that can smash down my walls. Maybe they can, but a bigger siege engine makes a bigger target, or did no one teach you basic logic.”

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“Sail down the Black Knife. Don't make me laugh, even if you have boats. Half the time, the river is completely impassable, and it's still dangerous the rest of the time. And 50,000 is still larger than 10,000.” Andrew responded.

“Sail down the Black Knife? That wasn't my intention, merely to ship supplies if you decide to starve us out. That's very possible. In fact, we do it all the time already, although I doubt you have the means to build a river fleet on the black knife.”

“I've already set fire to all of the Black Knife Valley.”

“Then we'll ship food from Planes of Francis or the Uscan Union. But I'm afraid there's not enough Provisions for your Army, which is six times the size of mine.” She laughed mockingly

Andrew put on a mask of confidence. “If need be, we will ship food from Cestia or Antlatur Itself.” in truth, both options would be difficult. Antlatur was far away and over the mountains. Cestia was recently embroiled in another war with the Kingdom of Goldtowers and the alliance of the Frittigurn. It would be difficult to import food from them or their allies. At the very least, the price would be tripled by the market value. Veronica's bored expression made it clear she didn't believe his bluffs for a second. “Besides, did you forget you have an entire population to feed and all those refugees packed into that city? It must be difficult to keep them from rioting, much less feed them all.”

“You'll have to assault our walls,” she stated flatly, “EVEN if you can win, how much blood will you shed? How many soldiers will die? Can your kingdom afford such an expense? So many people want you dead, Golden Stallion, and so many other nations want to see yours destroyed. Don't forget about my son and his army either, not to mention the second division still held up in Grastide. You have to spend a lot more blood even after Lepetra falls if Lapetra falls.”

Andrew was momentarily tongue-tied, and Veronica took advantage. “Now, once more, why did you call this meeting? This time, don't try to intimidate me with your large, incompetent army that can't feed itself.”

“I want you to become an Affiliated Kingdom, disband two of your divisions, and surrender the territory of Grastide. I will choose a suitable local Noble House to become the new royal house of a new Affiliated Kingdom.” The Kingdom of Black had an exceptionally large army for its size, as enemies always surrounded them. If they were to become an Affiliated Kingdom, Andrew wanted to weaken them so they could never revolt again. Making Grastide an Affiliated Kingdom wasn't necessary. Still, it would further weaken them, and it was traditional that when a large country became an affiliated kingdom, some of its territories would be split off and made into new affiliated kingdoms. As for the new royal house, there were a couple of houses within the city that it proposed, betraying the Kingdom of Black. Andrew could use one of them. Veronica would think she was installing one of her own nobles as a royal house, but in reality, it would be Andrew's ally.

Veronica openly started laughing at him. Andrew felt his anger rise once more. “You might not want to admit it, but this is reality. This is the only way your kingdom will survive.”

“You mean the only way your kingdom will survive,” she laughed. “You're funny, Golden Stallion.”

“You need peace more than I need peace. Both of our nation's futures are on the line here.” Veronica stated, returning to her indifferent tone.

“We can destroy your nation and still resist our enemies,” Andrew responded angrily.

“Well, far be it from me to deny the words of such a great monarch as the Golden Stallion,” Veronica said with a mocking lilt to her tone. “You may have six times the numbers, but I have two times the experience. You won't survive, believe me.”

“What do you have in mind then?” Andrew asked.

Veronica didn't hesitate before responding, “We would be willing to secede over the Lorien and Almerian Silver Mines and all of the land around in exchange for a withdrawal from all of the Black fortresses and a complete withdrawal of your armies from our territory. We will also pay ransoms and compensation to you.”

“Huh,” Andrew made a dumbfounded noise. “We already have Lorien and Almerian Silver Mines and all the land around it. Why should we hand over the Black fortresses? We've already captured them.”

Veronica's tone changed again as if she were speaking to a small child: “In exchange for peace, we're willing to hand over two silver mines.”

“That land is already ours,” Andrew growled.

“No, you occupy it. It is still our land.”

Andrew shook his head. “You're completely crazy.”

“Well, your mother's talents don't include parenting, but we're all imperfect human beings, right?” Veronica laughed.

“There is an easier way to settle this - a Marshall Saint challenge. Your Marshall Saint versus mine. If you win, we will completely withdraw and even hand over your silver Mines, and if we win, you'll become an Affiliated Kingdom.”

“Single combat. I was wondering when you were going to get to that. But negotiating with oath breakers is like reasoning with a goblin.”

“The Kingdom of Antlatur has always kept its promises. We have never once broken a vow without cause.” Andrew roared, “insinuating we're untrustworthy when you are nothing but oath breakers and rebels. You have quite some gall.”

“You seem to have quite a forgetful memory, King of Antlatur. You forget your grandfather's vow to mine after the Battle of Hayden's Ford. He promised never to invade the Kingdom of Black again, but he came up with an excuse and invaded five years later. Let's not forget the vow your father swore to me - he promised in exchange for the release of hostages, a ten-year truce lasting 10 years, yet the vow is still broken. You always use the excuse that we are nothing but oath-breakers and rebels. Therefore, we are not protected by oaths made to us. So I ask again, how can I trust your words? Even if my Marshall Saint wins, and he assuredly will, you won't keep your promise. I won't risk Luca's life just to kill your Marshall saint.”

Andrew couldn't deny anything she said, but that only made him angrier. “Is there any actual offer that you would accept?”

“Your original offer: If you allow us to keep the city of Grastide, I can bring it back to the council and come back to you with an answer in time,” Veronica said evenly.

“Unfortunately, I can't allow you to delay merely as a negotiation strategy. So I need you to accept my offer. Here and now.” His sister warned Andrew that Veronica might try such a strategy.

Veronica sighed. “I see now you were simply wasting everyone's time. There's no way a Monarch can accept an offer as important as becoming an Affiliated Kingdom without discussing it with their counsel. In what world do you think that would even happen?”

“All you need to do is open the gates. I will take them over, and then you can think it over.”

Veronica didn't bother responding. Instead, she wheeled her horse around Luca and gave Andrew one last hateful glare before riding through the gates.

Barely 10 minutes later, the storming of Lepetra began.