FL - Chapter 61: Gifts

Zachary lowered his head and took a delicate sip of wine, calculation flickering in his eyes.

He sighed in feigned regret. "Perhaps so. Calvin doesn't appear to understand respect. In his place, I would've come early and paid my respects to you in person, my lord."

Count Firth's brow furrowed as anger surfaced on his face.

The surrounding chatter seemed to draw toward their conversation, and the atmosphere grew heavy.

Count Firth sat in silence for a moment, then slapped the table. "Calvin needs to be taught a lesson. He must understand that the Northlands has rules."

*When the campaign begins, I'll send him to the most dangerous position and make him lead the charge!*

A cold glint entered his eyes.

Zachary smiled faintly. His plan had worked, filling him with vicious satisfaction.

Count Firth's decision was exactly what Zachary had maneuvered toward.

Ever since Louis humiliated him at the banquet, anger had festered in Zachary's chest. Louis's dismissive gaze had struck directly at his pride.

*Who do you think you are? You're another castoff, yet you dare look down on me?*

By exploiting Count Firth's ignorance, Zachary could push Louis into the most dangerous assignment with ease.

Louis's arrogance would make him pay the highest price.

Zachary also knew when to stop.

Once he planted prejudice in Firth's mind, time would do the rest.

He changed the subject and began telling stories about his hunting trips in the south.

The nobles relaxed, and warmth returned to the room.

The banquet regained its liveliness, appearing set to conclude as an unforgettable evening.

Then, as the festivities approached their end, a servant hurried into the hall and whispered a report to the Count.

"My lord, Baron Calvin and Baron Harvey have arrived at the gates."

Count Firth frowned at once.

"Baron Calvin?" he repeated, displeasure filling his voice.

A faint smile touched Zachary's lips. He hadn't expected the unfortunate fool to deliver himself to their door. Fortune had sided with him.

He spoke just loudly enough for Count Firth to hear. "The very same Louis Calvin, a son of House Calvin."

Count Firth snorted.

"Let him in. I want to ask what performance he thinks he's staging by arriving when the banquet is almost over."

The great doors opened moments later, drawing every gaze in the hall.

Louis and Jon entered without hesitation.

Two knights without armor followed, each carrying a massive burlap sack over one shoulder. The faint reek of blood clung to them.

They looked utterly out of place in the elegant banquet hall.

The nobles stared in confusion and surprise. The laughter and conversation vanished.

Count Firth's face darkened as he watched them approach.

The sight of the two sacks sent fury surging through him.

He sprang to his feet and barked with a contemptuous smile, "Louis Calvin, you have truly disappointed me.

"You arrive late to a banquet like this and show no respect. Do you not understand even the most basic noble etiquette?

"What do you think my manor is?"

His gaze moved to the sacks, and his expression soured further. "And what is the meaning of those? This is a noble banquet, not a street gathering!"

Silence filled the hall, followed by the nobles' low whispers.

Several southern colonization lords wore gloating smiles, eager to see Louis humiliated.

Zachary added fuel to the fire. "Count Firth is right. A noble banquet reflects the dignity of its host, and everyone must obey its rules.

"Or do you believe Count Firth is beneath someone as exalted as you? Is this a deliberate insult?"

The surrounding nobles laughed more loudly.

"What an ill-mannered brat. He thinks far too highly of himself."

"Look at this spectacle. How can Count Firth tolerate such a boor at his banquet?"

"A son of House Calvin, yet he has no grace or refinement. He doesn't understand basic respect, and he dares disrupt Count Firth's banquet."

Contempt filled their voices. They had already judged Louis an arrogant and uncultured brute.

Zachary watched in satisfaction. His words had put Louis in an impossible position.

The chorus of disdain only increased Count Firth's anger.

He glared at Louis, determined to cast aside all courtesy and put the young man in his place—to teach him who ruled Snowpeak County.

The nobles' laughter grew more brazen, and the tension tightened.

Louis remained calm, untouched by their mockery.

He bowed with proper noble courtesy. "Count Firth, urgent business delayed me. As for the sacks, they contain a gift I prepared especially for you."

At his gesture, the knights lowered them to the floor.

Zachary sneered. "A gift? How unexpected.

"But surely the son of Duke Calvin wouldn't bring something so crude. Is it a wild pheasant or hare from your territory?

"Why not show us the treasure you considered worthy of such a grand entrance?"

Every mocking word was meant to drag Louis deeper into disgrace.

Count Firth's prejudice had already taken root, and contempt showed in his eyes.

"Since it's a gift, let us see it. We northern nobles aren't trying to make things difficult for you."

He issued a curt command. "Open them. Let's see what's inside."

Louis nodded to his knights.

They pulled open the sacks.

Severed Snowsworn heads tumbled onto the floor, dripping blood.

Dead silence engulfed the hall. Every noble froze.

Count Firth stared at the heads. Fear and fury twisted his fat face, making the flesh around his eyes tremble.

He tried to shout, but the shock had left him floundering.

"Wh-what... What is this?!" he finally stammered, panic filling his voice.