The Sin Eater Chronicles

Grand Duke Belthar cut an imposing figure, though more by reputation than physical presence. His robes, a deep shade of violet, carried embroidery reminiscent of exotic eastern designs, including stylized serpents and geometric patterns. Slivers of precious metal adorned the sleeves, glinting in the torchlight. Despite his advanced years, he moved with a certain rigidity, his posture stiff and formal. Pale eyes peered from beneath heavy brows, giving him an air of perpetual disapproval.

A hush, tinged with unease, drifted over the courtyard. Even some of the foreign delegates stepped back as if wanting to avoid being associated too closely with this man. Whispers about his domain circulated: stories of harsh labor camps, of forced servitude, and of wealth amassed by questionable means. Aiyara tried to keep her expression neutral, but she felt a knot of revulsion tighten in her stomach. Masan's values clashed strongly with the concept of slavery or lifelong servitude. While lesser forms of indentured service sometimes existed in practical contexts, it was understood that the individual could earn freedom or fair terms. Belthar's rumored methods did not align with Masan's ethos.

Undeterred by the muted reactions, Belthar stepped onto the dais, giving Aiyara a curt bow. "Princess Aiyara, I presume," he said, his voice gravelly. "I come from the far East, where the deserts meet the plains and the old empires once reigned. My domain is vast—countless estates, large populations of laborers. And I have heard rumors of your mother's ambitious plan to colonize the western lands."

He paused, as though expecting the princess to acknowledge his statement immediately. When she did not, he continued, "I stand ready to offer an endless supply of workers, men and women accustomed to labor, who can build your new settlements in a fraction of the time it would take your own people. They are disciplined, strong, and obedient." His pale eyes flicked across the courtyard. "You needn't fear the hardships of forging a new colony when I can provide the manpower to shape entire cities swiftly."

A cold hush enveloped the onlookers. Many recognized the troubling subtext—if these "workers" were effectively slaves, it would run afoul of Masan's principles. Aiyara's pulse quickened, a mix of anger and dread building. She forced herself to remain composed, though her voice came out more clipped than she intended. "We appreciate the value of skilled laborers, Grand Duke. But Masan does not condone forced servitude. We believe every individual has the right to earn their way, to choose their destiny. Can you guarantee these… workers… come willingly?"

A tight smirk curved Belthar's thin lips. "They do what is required of them. Their choice or willingness is not the concern of a ruler forging a new settlement, is it? What matters is results. In the East, we understand that a strong hand guides progress. If you truly wish to build an empire across the sea—"

"Settlement," Aiyara interjected sharply. "We do not seek to build an empire through coercion. Our queen has made it clear that we expand with respect for the land and any who dwell there. We will not be enslaving the new world's environment or population."

Belthar's smirk twisted, revealing a deeper contempt. His aides stood uncomfortably behind him, seeming eager to vanish. "Your idealism is noted, Princess," he said, voice laced with condescension. "But naive. In time, you will learn that empire-building demands a certain… realism. My laborers can shorten that learning curve considerably."

A visible tension crackled among the crowd. Kida's hand drifted to the hilt of her sword, though she made no overtly hostile move. She was, however, clearly prepared to intervene if Belthar pushed too far. Aiyara wanted to recoil from this man's presence, but her sense of duty anchored her. She had to respond with composure.

She inhaled sharply. "Grand Duke, I respect your advanced age and the achievements you've built in your domain. However, Masan will never accept an alliance that undermines personal liberty. That is not negotiable. If you cannot adhere to our principles, any union between us is impossible."

A hush fell so deep that the faint plucking of a distant lute sounded thunderous by comparison. Some foreigners exchanged startled glances—rarely did a royal figure from a host kingdom so openly reject a prospective suitor, especially one who commanded vast resources. But in Masan, it was well within Aiyara's right to speak her mind, particularly when confronted with a practice the city found abhorrent.

Belthar's face soured further, but he concealed his anger behind a veneer of politeness. "I see. Very well, Princess. Should you find the demands of expansion more… challenging… than you anticipate, remember that my door remains open. The East always welcomes those who realize the necessity of strong methods." His vow had the ring of a veiled threat, implying that if Aiyara's new colony ever struggled, she might be forced to reconsider.

A flush of hot indignation coursed through her veins. She held her chin high. "I will keep that in mind, Grand Duke," she said in a tone that belied any actual willingness to do so. With that, she turned slightly, effectively dismissing him before he could spew any more toxic proposals.

Belthar's aides hurriedly maneuvered him away. The tension in the courtyard began to ease, replaced by a mixture of relief and admiration for the princess's forthright stance. Kida exhaled, muttering, "I'm glad that exchange is over. That man reeks of arrogance."

Aiyara nodded, her stomach still churning. She noticed the dragon contingent at the far side of the courtyard—a group that had apparently shifted to human form—watching with mild amusement, as though Belthar's attempt was a trivial entertainment. Meanwhile, dwarves and elves shared exasperated looks, evidently disgusted by the Grand Duke's approach. Even some of the foreign lords distanced themselves from him, not wishing to tarnish their reputations.

"Father taught me to never yield to intimidation," Aiyara murmured, half to Kida, half to herself. "Especially not when our moral code is at stake."

Kida nodded solemnly. "Well said, Princess. Your mother would be proud."

While the next suitor had yet to step forward, the sting of that encounter lingered. Aiyara felt her insides roil—part anger, part wounded pride. She was proud of Masan for rejecting cruelty, but she also despised how these men seemed to think her city was in such dire need that she might stoop to vile methods. Yes, we're losing half our fleet. But that doesn't mean we're helpless. The small spark of magical warmth within her flickered, fed by her pride. She felt it stronger now, an ember that brightened each time she was confronted by an insult to her city or her values.

Refocusing on the present, she braced for the next figure to appear. How many more suitors? she wondered. The night was still young, yet it felt as though she'd already negotiated a month's worth of tense diplomacy.