Louis smiled without speaking, engaging in light conversation with him, maintaining a hint of youthful politeness, as if he hadn’t seen through anything.
But the more he acted this way, the colder Camille felt inside.
He understood that he was sitting here safely only because the other party had no intention to act for the ti being.
At the end of the banquet, Louis casually brought up the main matter of the rewards: "The ceremony starts tomorrow. Let’s keep it simple."
Camille hurriedly nodded, his smile stiff: "Perfect, perfect."
His tone eager like a beast longing to end its shift early.
As he left the seat, he inexplicably forgot the al box on the table.
Bradley reminded him: "Your gift, Special Envoy."
Camille was startled for a mont before suddenly turning around, his face flushing red as he awkwardly gathered up the box.
When he first entered the banquet hall, he had on an aloof expression, as if the mountains of the Northern Territory were under his feet.
But in just a couple of hours, his back slightly hunched, steps trembling, as if he were walking on ice, afraid the next step would plunge him into the abyss.
How laughable.
From arrogance to humility, all in just one night.
Louis watched Camille’s hurried figure as he left with the al box, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
He certainly wouldn’t expose Camille as a spy right now.
Doing so would only corner the opposite party, making him desperate, which would be of no benefit.
There’s no rush, after all, he already held all the evidence provided by Antony, ironclad proof.
At this mont, Camille was rely at on the cutting board, ready for him to manipulate.
The real task was not to destroy him, but to use him.
For instance, to back the Red Tide at the Dragon Throne eting in his capacity as the Inspector Envoy.
To enhance his achievents in the mouth of the Regent King.
In the Northern Territory’s reconstruction efforts, to beco a supporter of his policies.
The more Camille feared death, the more obedient he would be. The more he wanted to live, the harder he would work.
Louis took a slight sip of wine, his smile deepening.
......
At Fierce Tide Square in Red Tide City, atop the high platform.
The ceremony platform was not extravagant, only two flags hanging.
One with the Empire’s golden dragon emblem, the other with Red Tide’s crimson flag.
Compared to the elaborate ceremonies of the Imperial Capital, it appeared quite simple.
Bradley stood in the corner of the platform, his brow furrowed tightly.
In the eyes of this old-fashioned steward, what should a ceremony of bestownt look like?
Colorful ribbons hanging, horns blaring, poetry and songs resonating, and drums shaking the streets.
Only then would it match the glory of a noble.
But now, on the high platform, only two flags flapped in the wind, with the townspeople standing crowded on the square.
Louis only said calmly, "Just a formality will suffice."
As a result, most of the procedure was forcibly cut.
Bradley sighed quietly to himself.
This was simply a waste of Louis’s grand occasion.
This young lord had, within just four years, turned from a nearly abandoned Baron of Expansion by his family to carve out a territory.
Now recognized by the Regent King and the Dragon Throne eting, promoted to Count.
If this were in the Imperial Capital, what a grand ceremony that would be?
Poets would praise his achievents in history, and the nobility would flock to present gifts.
Yet here in the cold Northern Territory, in his eyes, there was nothing but simplicity and haste.
Bradley couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Louis, but on second thought, perhaps this "disregard for ostentation" was precisely what made his young lord so convincing.
Below the square, a sea of people.
Upon hearing the news of his ennoblent, the townspeople of Red Tide City flooded in, crowding Fierce Tide Square.
Fortunately, Red Tide Knights lined both sides of the avenue, barely maintaining order.
Children were perched on their fathers’ shoulders, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the "Lord."
Elderly won leaned on canes, their eyes moist: "He really beca a Count..."
Young craftsn and farrs had burning eyes and rapid breaths, as if they too were going to be ennobled.
From the platform, despite the simplicity, there was a raw and fervent enthusiasm rarely seen even in the ceremonies of the Imperial Capital.
And just as the drums resounded and the ceremony was about to begin, a low murmur of surprise rose from the crowd.
The pregnant Emily, supported by Sif, slowly ascended the high platform.
The sunlight cast upon her profile, further highlighting the gentle aura bestowed by nurturing a new life, making it appear more solemn.
Sif held her arm, her expression carrying a faint chill, scanning the entire scene as if a guardian.
Though she did not favor such lively events, her eyes sparkled with an inextinguishable pride for Louis.
Emily walked to Louis’s side, gently placing her hand on her abdon.
She lifted her chin, gazing at the dense sea of people below the stage, a proud smile playing on her lips.
That smile seed to silently declare: This is my husband, the Count who guards the Northern Territory.
Sif stood on the other side, hands clasped in front of her, her posture respectful.
The two wives stood on either side, and the silhouette of Louis on the podium instantly gained an unshakable majesty.
The scene ignited the emotions of the citizens below the square.
So were moved to tears, others loudly shouted "Lord!", and so clasped their hands as if in prayer.
Yet, if one listened closely, those calls were actually interspersed with more genuine joy.
"The lady is about to give birth!"
"The Red Tide will have an heir!"
"Our future now has a backbone!"
For these people who had experienced war, famine, and displacent, titles were matters of the distant Imperial Capital.
What truly reassured them was the gentle smile of the expectant mother and the new life about to be born.
The arrival of the child ant that the Red Tide would continue, signifying a "true future" for this arduously cultivated land.
Thus, their applause and cheers, rather than being a grand tribute to a title, were more like blessings for the future child of Red Tide.
Emily evidently heard the crowd’s cries.
She first paused in surprise, then smiled with pressed lips, slowly raising her hand, nodding slightly to the citizens below the square.
Her gesture was not exaggerated, yet it carried a natural affinity.
"...Thank you." She spoke softly, "This child is the future of Red Tide. And also your future."
With just a few words, it seed to strike the hearts of all.
The square below fell silent for a mont before an overwhelming cheer erupted.
"Long live the Red Tide!"
"May the lady be safe!"
"This child will surely bring hope to the Northern Territory!"
The enthusiasm and sincerity made the entire Fierce Tide Square seem as if it were trembling.
When Camille saw this scene, his heart suddenly trembled.
In the Imperial Capital, he had seen countless enfeoffnts and balls, heard the feigned applause and insincere praises of the nobility.
But he had never seen any lord of a territory so surrounded by heartfelt respect and love as Louis.
"This popular support... is terrifying."
Though outwardly maintaining the veneer of a Special Envoy, an indescribable fear welled within him.
His collusion with Silver Plate had been exposed.
Louis had not imdiately torn into him but instead put the warning right in front of him.
This ant he still had so utility, at least for the ti being.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to calm down: "Stay calm, Camille. As long as you’re alive, there’s a way."
The drum sounded again, and the ennoblent ceremony officially began.
Camille slowly unfolded the decree, his voice deliberately raised, carrying a touch of excitent:
"By the order of His Majesty the Regent King, from this day forth, Louis Calvin is elevated to Count of the Ironblood Empire!"
As the words fell, he took up the Imperial Longsword, lightly touching both of Louis’s shoulders.
The sword’s cold blade shimred in the sunlight, symbolizing the protection of the Northern Territory and the defense of royal authority.
Then, the attendant presented the decree and the dragon-engraved ring.
Camille bestowed them upon Louis, chanting, "This is the power of the Empire granted to the Count of Red Tide, to oversee military and political affairs."
Louis kneeled on one knee, solemnly swearing, "I, Louis Calvin, pledge my loyalty to the Empire, to guard the Northern Territory, to comply with imperial orders!"
A tsunami of cheers erupted inside and outside the square.
"Lord!"
"Long live Red Tide!"
"Long live the Count!"
The roar resounded through Fierce Tide Square, lingering for a long ti.
Camille barely maintained a smile outwardly, yet he was scared out of his wits inside.
He clearly felt this was not an imperial ennoblent ceremony, but a coronation.
The young man before him had beco the true sovereign of the Northern Territory.
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