The Princess' Harem
Chapter 115: The Onslaught and the Oath

Chapter 115: The Onslaught and the Oath

"And our alchemical defenses?" Reyes asked, turning to Viana and then towards where Marion was overseeing her preparations in a corner of the chamber.

Marion, wiping her hands on a cloth, stepped forward, her eyes bright with a scientific, almost detached, intensity.

"Princess, we have hundreds of fire pots ready, highly concentrated with the Fire Flower essence for longer burn times. I am also synthesizing a potent paralyzing agent. It will drop a man cold for several minutes, ideal for breaching points or against their commanders."

Joel, his face still etched with worry, excused himself briefly. "Princess, forgive me. I have a pressing matter at the outer gates. An unexpected visitor."

Viana nodded, her attention still on the map. "Go, Joel. Every detail matters now."

She turned her gaze to Arden, who stood beside his stacks of ledgers. "Arden, what of the other noble houses? Their levies? Their armies? Have any pledged support, or sent word of their approach?"

Joel strode out of the strategy room, those were the last words he could still hear before he closed the door behind him. His mind already calculating the delays this unexpected interruption might cause.

Arden adjusted his spectacles, a flicker of something close to resignation in his tired eyes. "Princess, reports have been... scarce. Most nobles are consolidating their own defenses, fearful of the blight reaching their lands, or now, Arin’s reach. They have sent no formal pledges of military aid beyond their regular tribute. Their forces are likely focused on protecting their own holdings."

Viana’s jaw tightened. It was as she expected, but the confirmation was a bitter pill.

***

Joel reached the heavily guarded outer palace gates, where a familiar figure stood conversing with the guards.

The man was burly, with a scarred face and an easy, cynical grin. He was Daniel, a former mercenary captain Joel had known from his days as a young advisor, a man who dealt in loyalty for coin, but who also possessed a surprising moral compass when the coin was right.

"Daniel," Joel said, his voice curt. "What brings you to Elysia at such a time? You risk much by being here."

Daniel’s grin widened. "Risks are what mercenaries thrive on, Joel. And opportunities. Heard a whisper. A king under siege. Desperate needs. And coin. Always coin."

He paused, his gaze assessing. "Your numbers are bad, old friend. Everyone knows it. But... the blight. That ’Fire Flower’ dust. It changed things. Made Elysia worth fighting for, again. Made it a client worth risking for."

Joel’s eyes narrowed. "You speak of terms?"

"My men, and others I’ve rallied, they’re willing," Daniel said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "A substantial fee upfront, yes. But beyond that... a percentage of Elysia’s future prosperity, once this is done. A stake in the reborn land. It’s a risk for us, but a long-term investment. And we fight for the side that can win."

He looked Joel directly in the eye. "And right now, Princess Viana seems like the only one truly fighting for Elysia’s future, not just clinging to its past."

Joel studied him, a flicker of something new, something hopeful, igniting within him. Mercenaries.

Not ideal, but a desperate need called for desperate measures. And Daniel was good. His men were disciplined. "How many?"

"Two thousand, give or take a few dozen," Daniel replied, a glint in his eye. "Ready to deploy. Right now."

Two thousand. It wouldn’t equal Arin’s numbers, not even close, but it would boost Elysia’s fighting force by almost fifty percent. It changed everything. It shifted the odds from impossible to merely horrific.

Joel turned, a newfound urgency in his stride. "Wait here. Do not move. I need to speak with the Princess."

He practically ran back to the strategy room, his heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and a desperate, fragile hope.

He burst into the chamber, startling Viana and Reyes.

"Princess!" he exclaimed, his voice slightly breathless. "An unexpected development. A mercenary company. Two thousand strong. They are willing to join our side. They are at the gates now!"

Viana looked at him, her eyes wide. Reyes straightened, his hand instinctively going to his sword hilt, then relaxing slightly as he processed Joel’s words.

Two thousand. The number echoed in the room. It changed the calculus of the siege. A lifeline, however tenuous, in the face of overwhelming odds.

***

Far from the besieged capital of Elysia, in a sun-drenched courtyard within his opulent estate, Count Lazarus sat in a cushioned chaise lounge. Birds, exotic and colorful, chirped melodiously from gilded cages hanging beneath trellised vines, their songs a sweet, constant symphony.

A gentle breeze stirred the air, carrying the scent of blooming jasmine and rare, fragrant orchids. Lazarus slowly sipped from a delicate porcelain cup, the steam curling invitingly from his rose-scented tea.

He hummed a soft, tuneless melody, his eyes half-closed in luxurious contentment. A plate of exquisitely crafted pastries, shimmering with sugared glaze, sat on a small table beside him, untouched. He was the picture of serene, detached luxury.

A faint rustle of silk announced Dexter’s arrival. Lazarus did not open his eyes. "Report, Dexter," he murmured, his voice a low, pleasant tone, perfectly in harmony with the birdsong.

Dexter, cloaked as always in shadow, stood respectfully a few paces away. His voice was a flat, dispassionate murmur.

"Arin’s legions are fully engaged. They have reached the capital’s perimeter. Initial skirmishes are underway. Resistance is... tenacious, for Elysia’s depleted state. But their numbers are insurmountable. The siege is expected to commence in full by nightfall."

Lazarus opened his eyes, his gaze now sharp and calculating, though his expression remained unperturbed. "And the King? The Queen? The Princess?"

"The King is moving among the commoners, bolstering morale, directing refugee placement. The Queen is organizing medical aid, preparing for casualties. Both are actively involved in the capital’s defense," Dexter reported, his words concise.

"Princess Viana, however, is leading the core strategic efforts. She was observed in the armory, inspecting defenses, and has been in constant council with her advisors: Joel, Reyes, and Marion."

Dexter paused. "There is also an unexpected development. A contingent of mercenaries, approximately two thousand, arrived at the capital gates a short while ago. Joel personally received their captain. They appear to be joining Elysia’s forces."

Lazarus’s hand, holding the teacup, stilled. A small frown, barely noticeable, creased his brow. Two thousand.

It was not enough to turn the tide, not against Arin’s full might, but it was... an annoyance. A deviation. Viana, always finding a way.

He took a slow sip of his tea, the warmth doing little to soothe the sudden chill that settled in his elegant courtyard.

"Mercenaries," he mused, his voice losing its pleasant hum. "A desperate measure. But a measure nonetheless. So, the princess is still full of surprises. Even now."

He placed the teacup back on the table with a soft, deliberate click. "Dexter, ensure our own... ’sympathizers’ within the capital are aware of this. And ensure they are aware of the importance of crippling any external aid. Especially mercenaries."

"As you command, Master," Dexter replied, his shadowy form already seeming to melt into the vibrant foliage.

Lazarus leaned back, his eyes fixed on a distant, soaring bird. The beautiful, melodious chirping of his caged birds suddenly seemed to grate.

The game was becoming more... complicated. But complication, he reminded himself, only made the eventual triumph sweeter.

He reached for a pastry, but his fingers hesitated, then pulled back. The sweet, delicate confection no longer held any appeal.