Chapter 34 Celebration Meeting
“The Pros Celebration is about to start. Does anyone have any opinions?”
Tap tap tap.
In the royal meeting hall, besides the aristocrats’ discussions, there was also a sound they had long grown accustomed to: fingers tapping on the table.
Alman was reclining in his chair, tapping away at the table with one hand, as if he had no interest in the meeting or any desire to participate.
“The Pros Celebration is meant to commemorate the heroes of war, so I think we should invite some knights and soldiers to take part and have them do something to maintain the celebration’s enthusiasm.”
Tap tap tap.
Alman was not thinking about the meeting or the celebration; he had no desire to engage whatsoever. He had returned late last night from the Knight Order and had not seen Evelia. He had wanted to find her this morning, but instead, he was dragged into this damned early meeting. His feelings about this situation had shifted from “Did I do something wrong? What’s going on?” to “Damn, can you stop bothering me already?”
“The Royal Knight Order is a good choice, especially after recently putting down the beast invasion in the Far North.”
Tap tap tap.
“So does this mean Alman must join in?”
Tap tap—
Upon hearing his name, Alman stopped his incessant tapping. He should have already shared his thoughts on the Knight Order, but the usual chatterbox in meetings had not said a word today.
Moreover, if it weren’t for the First Prince sitting at the head of the royal meeting hall bringing up the Pros Celebration and calling Alman’s name in the name of the Knight Order, perhaps no one would dare to steer the conversation towards the guy tapping away at the table.
Because Alman’s expression right now was truly daunting.
Very few had seen Alman’s cold face in such a formal setting, and today, those nobles who thought themselves untouchable witnessed an Alman, usually mocked as the “foolish dog of the royal courtyard,” looking as if he could devour a person.
Of course, Alman had not done or said anything; he had merely put away his usual smile, appearing devoid of the casualness with which he typically responded to anything. Just by sitting there with an emotionless demeanor, even the nobles accustomed to his carefree smile found it hard to bear.
After all, Alman was someone who had truly fought for his life. If he cooled down, the bloodshed he had experienced over the years would show. Sitting to his left was his deputy commander, Carly, who was already used to such a vibe and paid it no mind. However, sitting to his right was just a common baron from a scholarly family, who had never experienced such a presence. Under the influence of Alman’s aura, he even felt he could smell the blood on the Knight Commander’s body.
Alman’s blue eyes seemed to be staring at someone or possibly at a corner of the hall, but that razor-like gaze made everyone reluctant to have it fall on them.
“What’s wrong, Alman? Do you disagree?”
Except for the First Prince.
After all, no matter how fierce he appeared, he was ultimately one of their subordinates, like a wolfdog that would never show its teeth to its master.
The First Prince had kept Alman by his side for over a decade; he certainly understood Alman’s temperament. If something serious had happened, he wouldn’t have come to a royal meeting that meant little to him. Even though he wore a grim face now, his presence here indicated that nothing significant was amiss; at most, he was just in a bad mood.
But as for who had the ability to put Alman in such a state, the First Prince was somewhat curious.
“Ah—” Alman turned to the First Prince, seemingly in a particularly bad mood, rolling his eyes without hiding it. “I don’t want to give a speech.”
Attending the celebration entailed engaging in useless activities, which Alman did not like.
“Hahaha…”
The usually serious First Prince unexpectedly chuckled, as if the two of them had swapped temperaments, the one who usually laughed wore a frown, and the one who was serious broke into laughter.
“Commander, as the head of the Royal Knight Order, it’s not quite right for you to skip the Pros Celebration, is it?”
In this unusual atmosphere, no one dared to say anything further, fearing these two unpredictable individuals might unleash their frustrations on them. Only the Second Prince, Eric, dared to follow up, cheerfully sorting through his documents.
“The Pros Celebration is to commemorate war heroes, so why should I attend?”
Alman was not in a good mood today, so he did not give the Second Prince a pleasant response. Alman always had a rogue demeanor, and the Second Prince was used to it. However, being directly confronted in such a straightforward manner was a first for him, causing him to instinctively freeze for a moment before quickly regaining his composure.
“You triumphed on the battlefield in the Far North, of course you are a hero. What, is there another interpretation of the battle in the Far North?”
The Second Prince’s words carried an air of mockery. Although others thought Alman had fought well in that battle, the Second Prince knew the harsh cold of the North must have tormented him terribly. Even if it hadn’t killed him, it would likely shorten his lifespan.
As for giving a speech, that was standard formal rhetoric. If he wanted to preserve his position as the Commander of the Royal Knight Order, his speech would have to consist of royal platitudes. Come the day, Alman may have to recall the hardships of the Far North to extol royal decision-making.
Furthermore, he was the one suggested to be sent by the Second Prince; he would have to thank the Second Prince for his grasp of the situation and decision-making. The Second Prince had nearly caused him harm regarding this matter, yet he still needed to thank him.
“Your Highness, Second Prince—”
Alman leaned forward, lightly slapping his palm on the table. His voice didn’t carry much volume, but the strained tone made him sound like a hungry wolf leaning in to fixate on its prey. Beside him, Deputy Commander Carly sighed in resignation, while the baron next to him hastily shuffled away, disregarding the etiquette of being a noble.
“—in my lexicon, only the dead should be commemorated.”
As soon as Alman voiced this, the entire meeting hall fell silent. If the two princes didn’t speak, no one dared to contradict the increasingly dark expression of Alman.
“The Pros Celebration is meant to honor the warriors who exchanged their lives at the Pros Gulf. Those brave souls, seeing our kingdom thriving, would surely be greatly comforted. Thus, Your Highnesses, as the Deputy Commander of the Knight Order, I believe the meaning of the celebration is to encourage people to cherish the prosperity and peace of today, to cultivate an authentic love for the current life, rather than coerced knights forced to play a monumental role in highfalutin matters during this celebration.”
Seeing Alman fall silent, the other two princes also chose not to speak. Carly, often referred to as “the commander’s external brain,” continued the discussion.
As a friend of Alman’s, he recognized Alman’s unwillingness to engage and chose to side with him. After all, while Carly was unaware of the details of the battle in the Far North, he could piece together the narrative with Alman’s exhausted demeanor and his tendency to curse the Second Prince instead of discussing details.
Even without this significance, to put it plainly, no one wanted to work overtime on the day of the celebration, especially when it was meant for the knights.
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Seeing Carly stand up for him, Alman nodded, leaning back in silence.
“Then, does anyone else have any opinions?” The First Prince suppressed a laugh and directed the question to the others. Noticing their silence, he turned to the Second Prince next to him, “Eric, what about you?”
“…None for now, Your Highness.”
Following this, the Second Prince fell silent, frowning as he tightened his grip on the documents.
“Alright, it seems we cannot reach a conclusion on the celebration today. In the coming days, everyone here, please submit a plan. When there’s progress, we’ll return to the meeting room. Everyone is dismissed.”
Seeing the atmosphere, the First Prince figured the meeting could not continue and stood to announce its conclusion. As others murmured their comments about the earlier disruptions, Alman and Carly had already turned to leave, evidently not planning to linger.
Seeing Alman needed some fresh air, Carly did not take a carriage and chose to walk back to the Knight Order, which was not too far. Noticing Alman, who usually could not stop himself from commenting on everything, was now sulking in silence made Carly curious. He sighed and asked,
“What’s wrong with you?”
Alman turned to Carly:
“You talking about me?”
“Of course.” Carly nudged Alman with his elbow. “Your face is so dark it looks like it could drip water.”
“Haah…”
Alman sighed in frustration, rubbing his nose bridge.
“Come on, tell me what’s up. Is there anything I can help with?”
“I—”
Alman hesitated, glancing at Carly, but thinking of him as a close friend, he covered half his face and said:
“My maid won’t cook for me anymore.”
“…? What?”
“I said my maid won’t cook for me anymore.”
“——?”
Carly, unable to believe it, touched Alman’s forehead and then his own, confirming he was not suffering from any mental illness. He looked at Alman with an expression that was strange.
“You almost started a fight with the Second Prince over something like this?”
“What do you mean ‘something like this’? This is a big deal!”
“You’re hopeless…”
