Chapter 8

10th Day, Upper Wind Month, 1 CE, 1500 Hours

Following her afternoon appearance at the royal square, Draudillon took a carriage with Ioena, Lina and Sebas to the section of the riverfront that Countess Corelyn had proposed for the Sorcerous Kingdom’s exclave. The rows of warehouses had long been emptied and the few citizens present had been cleared away by the city’s makeshift militia, giving the place a dilapidated, abandoned feeling.

As the carriage turned to follow the road along the earthen quay, Draudillon spotted a small group of people gathered around the trio of Nobles from the Sorcerous Kingdom. When the vehicle rolled closer, however, she realised that most of those ‘people’ were Undead. She felt Ioena press in behind her as they came to a stop on the road nearby.

“Where did all these Undead come from?” Her lady-in-waiting asked, “The ones in the palace should still be there…”

“I believe they are from that ship over there, Lady Yorsten.”

Sebas gestured to a spot in the distance. Sitting in the water a couple of hundred metres from the shore was a large barge. Draudillon peered past it to where she thought several more were anchored in the river.

“When did those get here? We didn’t see them from the palace balcony earlier…”

“They arrived after Your Majesty granted us permission to commence our operations,” Sebas said. “These ships were waiting just outside the Oriculon estuary.”

But the estuary is almost thirty kilometres away…

A barge sailing upstream from Seagate to the capital usually took the better part of a day’s travel to cover the distance under normal conditions. Assuming they started around lunch when she had requested that the Sorcerous Kingdom bring their transports, they had made the journey in less than two hours.

“What port did these ships come from?” Draudillon asked.

“Corelyn Harbour on the Katze River,” Sebas answered. “The goods that they deliver are from or came through the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

If they made the journey from the estuary in two hours, it meant that cargo would take around two days to go between the capital of the Draconic Kingdom to the capital of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Even with perfect weather and no extended stays in the urban centres along the way, travelling to E-Rantel from the Draconic Kingdom’s capital by land took about two months.

“I can imagine the chaos in the Merchant Guild once they hear about this,” Lina frowned out the window. “Their world is going to be turned upside-down.”

“What are the Sorcerous Kingdom’s principal exports?” Ioena asked, “I hesitate to say this, but if trade from the Sorcerous Kingdom adversely affects the Draconic Kingdom’s domestic industries, we will have to implement measures to protect them.”

“That is a topic best saved for Countess Corelyn’s delegation, Lady Yorsten,” Sebas said. “I am but a humble butler.”

Draudillon in no way believed that Sebas was ‘just a humble butler’ – if anything, he was one hell of a butler – but there was no point in disputing his statement. Two footmen came to open the doors of the carriage and the scents of the nearby river flooded the cabin. She stepped off onto the cobblestones, warily eyeing the group of Undead not two dozen metres away.

“These roads suck!” A woman’s voice carried over the wind, “We’re gonna have to lay a new one to handle all the weight coming through here.”

“Don’t go tearing everything apart yet,” another woman said. “We still need to negotiate the terms of the lease.”

“So much for our exciting demonstration,” the first woman muttered.

She leaned back and forth, trying to get a glimpse of who was speaking through the gaps between the Undead. Since the quiet-looking ones tended to hide some aspect of themselves that was at odds with their outward appearance, she suspected that the one doing the complaining was Baroness Gagnier.

“You can ‘demonstrate’ later,” the second woman said. “We need to offload the cargo and get distribution started. Every minute our ships sit around is a minute that they’re not transporting goods.”

“You don’t have to tell me that – I’m not a first-week apprentice! Can’t we just level a few blocks for now? Nothing fits anywhere.”

As Draudillon’s entourage approached, the crowd parted, revealing Countess Corelyn and her party. Draudillon counted the pairs of glowing crimson eyes watching them come forward. Never mind the Elder Liches and the tall ones that were armed to the teeth, several of the ones she had at first thought were Human women appeared to be Undead as well. How the three noblewomen could stand in the midst of them without fainting dead away was a mystery.

“Queen Oriculus,” Countess Corelyn and her companions curtseyed respectfully. “Thank you for taking the time to personally come all this way. If Your Majesty does not mind, I would like to continue our talks while we observe the activities in the port.”

“We would like that,” Draudillon replied. “However, there is one thing We must know, first…those women there: are they Vampires?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, they are.”

She eyed the three Vampires, who all exuded a sense of cold, pristine beauty that was sometimes described in the legends. They were standing around in broad daylight without any apparent detrimental effects and didn’t have the grotesque appearance of Vampire Spawn, so they were probably all quite powerful.

“How do Vampires feed in the Sorcerous Kingdom?” Draudillon asked.

“Vampires don’t need to feed,” Countess Corelyn answered. “Any blood that they take from the citizens is offered voluntarily in places where legal allowances are made for it. Rest assured, they will not harm your citizens out of some uncontrollable desire to consume the living, which brings me to my first point. As with our other non-Human citizens, this exclave will also serve to protect our Undead from any of the living that may wish to visit ill upon them.”

Normally, one would consider this logic horribly backwards. It was generally Humans that needed protection from non-Humans and the living that needed to be wary of the Undead.

“About that…We heard something about making changes to this area of the city…?”

“The changes will be necessary to facilitate everything we wish to accomplish with this exclave, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said. “Not only will dwellings and new offices need to be raised, but port and storage facilities as well. The roads and sanitation systems will also need to be redone. We will shoulder the costs for this, of course.”

It occurred to Draudillon that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s budget for its efforts in the Draconic Kingdom was far greater than the current budget of the Draconic Kingdom. She held in a long sigh.

“Are you not concerned about making back your investment before the lease expires?” Draudillon asked, “In the worst case, you have ten years to secure returns.”

“Not everything is about securing financial returns, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said. “We do have expectations of making everything back by the end of the ten-year lease, but it is also the least of our concerns. Far more valuable in my estimation is the exchange of culture and diplomacy that the exclave will bring. By fostering mutually beneficial ties between our two nations, opportunities for profit will naturally present themselves in the future.”

Once again, the distinct flavour by which Countess Corelyn represented her nation gave Draudillon pause. Perhaps it was a difference in culture, but she did not present herself as a Noble of the Draconic Kingdom would. It was almost as if…

“We are curious,” Draudillon said. “Is House Corelyn a lineage formerly of Re-Estize? Or did it come with the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“The houses that existed in E-Rantel when it was a part of Re-Estize were transferred with the annexation,” Countess Corelyn replied. “This includes House Corelyn, House Wagner, House Gagnier and House Zahradnik.”

“Hmm…We have spoken to several High Nobles from both the Empire and Re-Estize, but they do not behave as you do. Those ones conducted themselves in a manner akin to Nobles in the Draconic Kingdom.”

“Ah, I see. I believe the answer Your Majesty is looking for is that House Corelyn is a Merchant House. As is House Wagner and House Gagnier.”

Uh oh.

With Countess Corelyn’s statement, many things suddenly fell into place. While Nobles did usually act as diplomats and emissaries, the line in their official discourse was usually drawn where ‘pure’ diplomacy ended. Everything else was beneath them.

By the same token, Merchant Houses were usually viewed as ‘lower class’ relative to the regular aristocracy. They did not share the same roots and engaged in activities that regular Nobles considered inappropriate for their station. Sometimes, they purchased their titles. Other times, they had the resources and wealth to assume management of new lands when a kingdom expanded its holdings faster than it could provide qualified administrators for.

As such, they were generally not considered for prestigious roles. This included court positions as ministers and advisors, military commanders and diplomats. Yet, for some unknown reason, the Sorcerous Kingdom had chosen Merchant Nobles to represent it.

Draudillon’s mind worked to reframe her perception of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s delegation.

Nobles had certain characteristics that reflected their existence as creatures rooted in tradition and law. When one interacted with a Noble, these characteristics were apparent in their conduct. She heard that commoners found their behaviour incomprehensible and even mocked them for it. Not within their hearing, of course.

In reality, it was quite simple. As with anyone else, a Noble’s sense of worth mostly stemmed from their value to society. They held an administrative role, deriving their power from the societal structures that they were raised in. Reinforcing that role was crucial because they would be nothing but a despotic bureaucrat without it.

The strategies that they employed were varied, but those strategies pursued a handful of notions.

Foremost was the idea of ‘station’. Every Noble had a place in a greater hierarchy and from that place flowed their rights, authority, influence and wealth. If someone didn’t recognise that station – or if the Noble in question believed that they did not – measures would be taken to ensure that they received the proper recognition. This was not simply a personal matter: they were acting on behalf of the entire aristocratic establishment and the sovereign, as was their duty.

How this happened differed from Noble to Noble. Not all of it was considered ‘good’, but, at the same time, it was also considered necessary.

While the popular imagination envisioned this ‘obsession’ with station in often comical and exaggerated ways that inspired all sorts of ridiculous misconceptions, the truth was that it affected Nobles more than it did commoners. Everything in their lives was carefully weighed and measured according to not their individual will, but the will of their house and the establishment as a whole. Public and often private conduct was dictated by the same rigid rules that they enforced on others.

When it came to dealing with foreigners, the same rules applied. Nobles organised things by station, applying equivalencies to what they knew. Sometimes, this was simple. A Baron of Re-Estize would offer the respect afforded to a Count of the Empire that they would a Count in Re-Estize, Roble or the Draconic Kingdom. Be it the ruler of a tribe or a ruler of an empire, those same standards applied.

Of course, it didn’t always work out so well. This was especially the case when differences in race and culture were so great that critical elements were lost in translation and no sense of ‘equivalency’ could be established.

Another major root of Noble behaviour was land ownership and the concepts that arose from it. A Noble was their title. That title was land. Land was power, wealth and influence.

When Nobles gauged another party, how much land they owned was the defining measure of what they were. It determined their assets, productivity, manpower and overall potential as a partner in whatever venture they were considering. A Noble from a large country would likely think a smaller country lower than their own and frame their views and behaviours accordingly.

Needless to say, when one with no land and no fame appeared before a Noble, they would not receive much in the way of recognition or respect. Even vast amounts of wealth and power could fail to impress and could even be seen as undeserved in their eyes. This didn’t necessarily mean that a Noble was rude or cruel, but it did at least skew the way that they interacted with others.

The way that Nobles saw land also made it ridiculously valuable to them. They would readily deal in all other types of wealth, but land was priceless. The only time one got their hands on land was when it was won through conquest or granted by whoever ultimately owned it. That land could be bought and sold was both incomprehensible and unspeakable at the same time.

A key point of Draudillon’s plan to compensate the Sorcerous Kingdom for its military aid lay in this ‘land-centric’ view. She could give an accounting of her lands and a Noble representative would naturally agree that the Draconic Kingdom was worth the trouble. Land meant income and land didn’t go anywhere. Thus, they would receive compensation for their services so long as that land remained in the hands of the Draconic Kingdom and continuing to keep it safe was in their best interests.

Now, she was certain that it would not work. Merchants did not think of land along the same lines. Their notions of intrinsic value were far removed from those of traditional landed Nobility. To them, land was either an asset or a liability. Potential productivity and revenues were simply that: potential.

That Countess Corelyn and her delegation were composed of Merchant Nobles explained why they didn’t bat an eyelash at the idea of leasing land. It also demonstrated their degree of investment in their proposal. Merchants were highly mobile, flexible and, most of all, willing to go in and out of ventures based on expectations of profit and loss. If she could not convince them that a relationship with the Draconic Kingdom was ‘profitable’ for the Sorcerous Kingdom, all hope would be lost.

Rather than dealing with them as Nobles, I should be treating them as the legendary Merchant Princes of the Sapphire Coast.

Draudillon imagined that their lands were run like businesses rather than fiefs. They were individuals whose machinations could make or break nations, and they would readily do so if it served to fulfil their objectives.

“I don’t see any sails or oars…”

She looked towards the river at Ioena’s words. The closest barge was now much closer, coming smoothly up to the port. As her Lady-in-Waiting-and-Temporary-Prime-Minister had mentioned, there was no visible form of propulsion.

“Maybe it’s magic,” Lina said. “Since the Sorcerous Kingdom has so many powerful Undead, maybe they have Ghost Ships as well?”

“Those exist in the Sorcerous Kingdom, but this isn’t one.”

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The one who answered Lina’s question was Countess Wagner, who was apparently the owner of the first woman’s voice from before. Waves washed against the stone of the harbour as the ship quietly manoeuvred along the pier. While she had recognised it as a barge when it was out on the river, it was larger than any she had seen before.

“Hmm…this isn’t going to work,” Countess Wagner said, “unless we do things the old-fashioned way. It’s a good thing Lord Demiurge had us make that thingy.”

“Old-fashioned way?” Draudillon frowned, “And what ‘thingy’?”

“The way we transport cargo requires specialised infrastructure,” Countess Wagner explained. “Furthermore, the roads here can’t handle the weight. One of the Sorcerer King’s ministers pointed out the problem and had us devise a way to handle cargo in places, well, everywhere else. At least until we get the proper infrastructure installed, anyway. It’s not complicated – or rather, it’s purposely uncomplicated.”

A metallic sound issued from the deck of the ship, which was roughly a metre and a half above the pier. Following that, a huge sheet of thick metal plating was guided over the front of the vessel and onto the pavement of the wharf, creating a ramp. Sounds resumed issuing from the ship.

“When I mentioned the ‘old-fashioned way’,” Countess Wagner continued, “I was referring to the way that most are used to handling cargo. People carry crates and bags by hand and load them into storage. Filling up a wagon properly can take up to an hour. The river barges employed by the Draconic Kingdom probably sit in port for a whole day between unloading and loading. With the amount of cargo our barges carry, it’d take even longer.”

Countess Wagner made it sound like a horrible thing, but what she described was normal. Draudillon didn’t think that anyone would complain about it. It was simply the reality of transporting goods, unchanged from times beyond historical record.

“In that case,” Draudillon resisted the urge to tiptoe so she could see over the top of the deck, “what is your solution to cargo handling times?”

“Boxes.”

“…but boxes are not exactly a new thing. Are they magical boxes?”

“They don’t have to be, Your Majesty. It’s more a matter of scale.”

Four of the Undead on the deck of the ship leaned down and lifted something from the hold. It appeared to be a litter supported by poles, except a giant box covered by a tarp was suspended from the litter. The box was constructed from iron or steel, measuring roughly ten metres long, three metres wide and metre-and-a-half tall. The Undead carried it off the ship and laid it on the road before detaching the frame from the box and returning to the ship with it.

“Easy, right?” Countess Wagner grinned, “That’s twenty tonnes of cargo off the ship in a couple of minutes. The problem is as I mentioned before. The roads will be wrecked from all that weight so we need to redo everything in the area and turn it into a port that can service our cargo.”

Draudillon peered at the metal box. Was it truly twenty tonnes? It could have been four men handling a palanquin for all the difficulty that the Undead displayed.

“In that case,” Draudillon said. “What changes would you like to make?”

“We’d start off by levelling all of the buildings and tearing things up to the waterline,” Countess Wagner said. “We’ll set up a new sewer system after that and then lay foundations for new buildings and roads. The roads and buildings come after that…oh, we’ll be walling off the area and extending the city into the river about two hundred metres for more space. We’ll extend the outer wall for ya, too.”

“H-how long will that take?”

“Not long, Your Majesty. We’ll get our first shipment in and out to your subjects before starting so we can send the barges back to the Sorcerous Kingdom. We’ll see to the groundwork after that.”

Her cheek twitched. What was described would take more than a year to accomplish with conventional labour and some of it was impossible even then.

“What sorts of buildings will you be raising?” Ioena asked.

“The extension will have all the storage and cargo handling,” Countess Wagner answered. “All the old warehousing space will be converted into an embassy, offices for our companies, housing, parks and market plazas. We’ll have some storefronts around the plazas, too.”

It was becoming a bit beyond an exclave. Rather than the diplomatic exclaves that she was familiar with, it was shaping up to be a self-contained village of the Sorcerous Kingdom inside the capital of the Draconic Kingdom. Their proposal was a colossal undertaking; essentially a statement that the Sorcerous Kingdom was here to stay.

“We appreciate the commitment that you’ve made to the Draconic Kingdom,” Draudillon said, “but what are your expectations for this lease? Legally speaking.”

“It should not be anything unreasonable, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn said. “First, we desire full autonomy within our exclave, which is part and parcel of diplomatic missions anyway. While I am not well-versed in Draconic Kingdom law, I believe there are a few notable differences. The first is that slavery is illegal in the Sorcerous Kingdom. Secondly, our citizens are prohibited from eating other citizens.”

Draudillon frowned.

“You make it sound as if We allow people to be eaten in Our country…”

“Ah, I did not mean to say that, Your Majesty,” Countess Corelyn smiled slightly. “But there is no law against it in the Draconic Kingdom, is there? I felt that it was an important distinction to make, as other countries similarly do not have such laws.”

“We suppose not…does that mean you will be supplying your own officials to administer this exclave?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Her gaze went from the Undead unloading the barge to the area around the harbour. She couldn’t imagine that the exclave would be a very popular place for her citizens if the Undead and all sorts of Demihumans were all over the place. Merchants, however, could probably stomach anything if a profit could be made.

“What other expectations does the Sorcerous Kingdom have?” She asked.

“As the exclave is also a port,” Countess Corelyn answered, “the responsibility for customs duties will be in the hands of those collecting them. Collection of taxes and tariffs for goods going from the Sorcerous Kingdom to the Draconic Kingdom will be the responsibility of the Draconic Kingdom’s officials. Similarly, goods coming in from the Draconic Kingdom – by land or river – will be subjected to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s customs duties and our officials will see to them. Also as the harbour here will be operated by the Sorcerous Kingdom, we will be collecting fees for those who use it.”

That much was expected. Since they were essentially enacting the same steps for customs duties in a slightly different place, she didn’t see much of a problem with it.

The Undead unloaded the last of the cargo containers and prepared for the arrival of the next barge. They moved away to make room for the incoming cargo.

“And what about the financing of the lease?” Draudillon moved on to the hardest question, “To be honest, We are hesitant to ask for anything given all that the Sorcerous Kingdom has done so far.”

“Understanding the Draconic Kingdom’s needs and national policies is crucial to developing a mutually beneficial relationship between our two nations,” Countess Corelyn said. “In the interests of avoiding future resentment over this agreement, please don’t hold back on our account. We have many options for financing, most of which the Draconic Kingdom will require for its recovery.”

“Then…Baroness Zahradnik has probably informed you of the food situation in the capital.”

“She has,” Countess Corelyn nodded. “As far as she’s reported, the capital and surrounding regions require food enough to last until the summer harvest is brought in.”

“We are not certain how bad the situation is overall,” Draudillon replied. “The lands yet to be liberated may still have provisions to share…”

“Even if they do,” Countess Corelyn noted, “prices for commodities will still spiral out of control. Should you not take advantage of what we offer?”

Draudillon made a face.

“We do not wish to exploit our subjects,” she said. “They have already gone through enough.”

“Rather than exploiting your subjects,” Countess Corelyn said, “it is an opportunity to be a regulating force, yes? There are always at least two sides in a trade. In the Draconic Kingdom’s present situation, those who have resources to spare are in a position to exploit wealth from those who do not. If the crown has a hand in distribution, regulating the cost of necessities will be easier.”

“That would be true in a more normal situation,” Draudillon crossed her arms, “but Our administration has been gutted. We do not have the personnel to effectively enforce domestic policy.”

“In the case of the capital, there is a different strategy that the Crown can employ. Merchants will try to achieve the highest profit margins, but those are predicated on reasonable expectations. Prices will rise only if both they and their clientele believe that there is a reason for them to rise. If the Crown is proven to be a channel for distribution and continually proves that no such reason exists, then prices will stay close to where you’d like them to be.”

“We dislike the idea of lying to our people about their situation, Lady Corelyn,” Draudillon frowned.

“You will not be lying to them in this case. We are prepared to supply all the food that your capital needs until the summer harvest. Other necessities, as well.”

Countess Corelyn gestured to the giant boxes lining the road.

“Each of these cargo containers can carry twenty tonnes of goods. These are the half-sized ones since twenty tonnes of Oats is about that much, and each barge is capable of carrying twelve of these containers in their hold.”

“But that’s…”

“Enough bread for four hundred thousand adult Humans,” Countess Corelyn finished for her. “Baroness Zahradnik reported that of those who have taken refuge in the capital, two hundred thousand have survived. One of our barges will feed your city for two days. Seven of the barges that have come to the capital carry grain. The three others carry charcoal, iron ore and other goods required to keep the city running and restore production for agriculture.”

“…and you can do this for four months?”

“It just so happens that we can, yes,” Countess Corelyn smirked. “You can thank Baroness Zahradnik for the food: it is nearly the same amount that she sold to me last year. The charcoal is from the E-Rantel’s western territories and the iron ore is from the Dwarven Kingdom in the Azerlisia Mountains. Most everything else comes from the Baharuth Empire. By dealing with the Sorcerous Kingdom, the Draconic Kingdom does not only deal with us: it participates in a greater market formed by the Sorcerous Kingdom and its allies.”

Baroness Zahradnik is the source of the food? But that’s the production of a highlord, not some minor Noble…no, it would be better to say that entire countries cannot come up with a surplus like that.

At this point, she could only wonder what the hell was going on in the Sorcerous Kingdom. She glanced over her shoulder at Sebas, who maintained his steely expression, but somehow seemed pleased at the same time.

“In that case,” Draudillon said, “what is the price of these commodities? We are unaware of any changes to the regional markets since our nation came under siege.”

“We took the liberty of matching the prices with our nearest major competitor,” Countess Corelyn produced a folder from the pouch at her hip, “which is the Slane Theocracy.”

Draudillon received the folder. Her makeshift ministers gathered in close to read with her. The Slane Theocracy was a country that had long since reached a state of economic equilibrium and enjoyed strong security, so commodity prices had unsurprisingly remained the same from two years previous. She exchanged looks with her courtiers, who nodded in return.

“We see nothing wrong with this,” Draudillon told Countess Corelyn. “In fact, We should be thankful that you are willing to supply such a volume at a fixed rate. If We had purchased supplies from the Theocracy, not only would the prices have risen sharply, but they would have eventually cut us off to protect their domestic markets.”

With a tentative agreement arrived at, they headed back to the palace to hammer out the details. Draudillon returned to her apartments to change into a fresh set of clothes, reviewing what she had learned thus far. The Sorcerer King must have been a monster of a sovereign to have gathered the people capable of planning and executing their proposal to the Draconic Kingdom.

“Just how many layers are there to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s scheme?” She muttered to herself.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Ioena asked, “I felt that it was strangely nice, but…”

“It is nice,” Draudillon said. “Everything about it is nice. But all actions have motives, no matter how nice they seem. This is especially true when it comes to matters of state. We hope you at least understand what they are trying to do with the Draconic Kingdom.”

Ioena compared three different hairpins against the fabric of Draudillon’s fresh dress, tapping her chin with a finger.

“Well, they did save us,” she said, “but that’s more than balanced by their request to establish that ambitious exclave of theirs. I can’t imagine that the House of Lords will be pleased by that, but they will have to accept it as a necessary sacrifice.”

Draudillon sighed. While she was an excellent Noble, Ioena still came from the ‘classic’ Noble background with its land-centric thinking. Even the knowledge that Countess Corelyn and her party were from Merchant Houses probably only lowered their worth in her estimation.

Like martial Nobles, who simply died in the Draconic Kingdom due to the constant predations of their Beastman neighbours, Merchant Nobles couldn’t find any purchase in a place that was barely getting by from season to season. The ownership and management of land was seen as a venture filled with liabilities, so titles held little value to Merchants. As such, the Draconic Kingdom’s aristocracy was made up of quintessential landlords.

Having Nobles who were primarily tied to the land was an advantage in the sense that they would stubbornly defend their titles to the bitter end, but it could be a disadvantage when a country rose out of subsistence. Innovation, diversity of thought and power projection were key to helping a nation advance beyond that state. A government made up of highly-conservative landlords tended to act as an obstacle to change.

The political and economic implications of ties to the Sorcerous Kingdom were bound to create massive shifts in the Draconic Kingdom. While the capital was already a major centre of commerce, it would become even more so as a gateway to another nation. Merely allowing the exclave to exist brought financial benefits that far outweighed its costs. There weren’t even any tangible costs – they were leasing it from her, so it was as if she were being paid to profit.

Even if the Draconic Kingdom had prepared a team of negotiators, Draudillon would have been inevitably dragged to the table once the implications of the exclave were made evident. Its cities belonged to the crown, so she would naturally be involved in such a major undertaking. All of the bureaucratic layers that normally existed between foreign delegates and a sovereign would cease to exist from that point onward because she would be directly entangled in affairs.

Additionally, the incentives of the exclave in the capital could be seen as purposely designed to solidify the power of the throne. Draudillon had no major issues with her subjects – in fact, it was whatever the opposite of that was – but the Sorcerous Kingdom probably didn’t know that. Those in power usually struggled to hold an advantage against external and internal elements. Economic, political and military influence were the major pillars that supported this effort. Their proposal resulted in the growth of her personal power in all three categories.

This simple analysis further defined the Sorcerous Kingdom’s foreign policy and how it would be pursued in the Draconic Kingdom. They secured the head of state and worked to create an unassailable position for her which also happened to bind her tightly to them. It was far beyond simply threatening the other party with violence as others might.

She, and, by extension, the Draconic Kingdom, would become so intertwined with the Sorcerous Kingdom on all levels that they may as well be, well, a member of their hegemony. Draudillon supposed that was the entire point, and they made no effort to hide it.

Any nation with access to the same transportation network could be enticed by the same proposal. Nations joining hands with the Sorcerous Kingdom would add to their political and economic influence, making it that much harder for other nations to resist its overtures.

How far would they be able to go with this? There were six terrestrial superpowers in the world that involved themselves in geopolitics, but they were half the continent away. Regionally speaking, there were two-and-a-half terrestrial spheres of influence.

The first consisted of the vestiges of what was a greater power past: the City State Alliance of Karnassus. Their decline – which was brought about by the Demon Gods – had been stemmed, but at best one might say that they were simply ‘stable’. There was no sign of the City State Alliance rising to reclaim its former dominance.

Secondly was ‘humanity’, which was essentially headed by the Slane Theocracy. Rather than a political sphere, it was a racial one. Due to this, any overlaps that they had with other spheres of influence tended to become antagonistic.

In terms of expansion, the Slane Theocracy had accelerated its mandate and became more aggressive. This behaviour came on the heels of the Demon Gods, so one might surmise that their brush with a threat of that magnitude had spurred them to action. That the entire region was in shambles in the wake of those events also made it quite easy for the Theocracy to exert its influence. Now, however, something was stalling them or they had suffered some sort of major setback that greatly diminished their ability to project power.

The Slane Theocracy was the closest thing to a hegemon in the region and was the main obstacle to the multiracial society promoted by the Sorcerous Kingdom. A clash between those two powers appeared to be inevitable once the Theocracy decided that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s expansion had become intolerable.

Of the two-and-a-half terrestrial spheres of influence in the region, the ‘half’ was the Argland Confederation. It was a project of sorts founded by Draudillon’s great-granduncle, Tsaindorcus=Vaision, the Platinum Dragon Lord. Like the Sorcerous Kingdom, it was a multiracial state that existed under the auspices of a confederation council consisting of the leaders of various tribes, clans and factions. The Platinum Dragon Lord was the nominal leader while four powerful Dragons presided over the council as permanent seats.

In light of their having similar goals for a harmonious multiracial state, her benevolent great-granduncle was likely to have a favourable view of the Sorcerous Kingdom. Furthermore, Argland was not an expansionary power. So as long as their sovereignty was respected, coexistence was likely.

From a larger perspective, the Platinum Dragon Lord would not act to counter the Sorcerous Kingdom’s expanding sphere of influence unless it threatened the balance of the World somehow. Thus far, Draudillon did not sense that they did. As long as they carried on in the same manner as they were, no regulatory actions would be taken by her great-granduncle or any of the other Dragon Lords.

All that being said, Draudillon’s decision was ultimately in respect to whether she would side with the Sorcerous Kingdom or the Slane Theocracy. Normally, she would be lukewarm on such a matter as the Draconic Kingdom usually took whatever help it could get. Nations in a similar position would allow foreign powers to shower their influence over them, taking advantage of the benefits right up until the point where they felt they had to declare for one side or the other.

Well, it’s not as if they’re demanding that I pick a side right away. Let’s make the most out of it.

When she returned to her throne room, the delegation from the Sorcerous Kingdom was already awaiting her presence. She examined their attentive expressions, then decided to get right to the point.

“By any chance,” Draudillon said, “do you intend to propose that We accept these exclaves in all of Our cities?”

Countess Corelyn’s amethyst eyes glittered as the corners of her lips turned up slightly.

“As expected of Your Majesty,” she said. “You catch on quickly.”