The words had taken far more effort to say than Darion had expected.
The mont the request left his mouth, he felt his heartbeat rise sharply inside his chest. His palms had suddenly beco sweaty too, forcing him to resist the urge to wipe them against his trousers beneath the table.
And worst of all? He had stuttered. It wasn’t heavily, not enough to completely embarrass himself, but enough for him to notice it imdiately.
That annoyed him in a way.
Before arriving at Thandor, he and Garren had discussed this conversation.
Darion had imagined different reactions King Michul might have, imagined possible replies, possible negotiations and possible refusals.
He had even tried preparing responses ahead of ti so he would not freeze up during the actual eting.
But imagination and reality were two completely different things.
Because now the matter was right in front of him.
Suddenly all those rehearsed thoughts in his head felt much smaller than they had before.
Darion forced himself to remain calm as he waited for the king’s response.
King Michul remained silent. The silence stretched. Darion couldn’t tell what the man was thinking at all.
Was he offended? Annoyed?
Did he think Darion was insulting him by even asking sothing like this? Or maybe he pitied him.
Darion honestly didn’t know which possibility felt worse.
The king simply sat there quietly, his fingers resting against the arm of his chair while his gaze remained fixed on Darion.
Then suddenly, Michul motioned toward one of the guards standing behind him.
"Take the coins," he ordered calmly.
That surprised Darion slightly.
For a few seconds there, he had actually started thinking the king might refuse to even touch the gold after hearing Percvale’s condition. After hearing the rebuilding situation and everything Darion had explained, part of him had expected sothing like:
Keep your money and use it for your people.
But apparently not.
Still...
At least the king had not imdiately rejected the proposal outright.
That alone felt important.
If Michul had truly been offended by the request, surely he would have said no imdiately.
Right?
Unless...
Maybe the king intended to accept the three thousand and still demand the remaining four thousand later with so new deadline attached.
Darion’s thoughts spiraled briefly there before he forced himself to stop.
No.
King Michul did not seem like that kind of person.
The man had listened carefully the entire conversation. He had seed genuinely interested in Percvale’s rebuilding efforts. Darion could not imagine him hearing all that and then imdiately tightening pressure on a struggling Barony.
Still, imagination ant nothing here. Until the king actually spoke, Darion could not be sure of anything.
The guards stepped forward and took the heavy bag from the table carefully. The sound of gold shifting inside the cloth filled the quiet hall faintly.
Darion watched them untie the bag and begin counting.
They worked together to make it faster, separating portions of the coins between themselves while quietly verifying the amount.
The clinking sound of gold continued steadily through the hall.
Every single sound seed louder because of how silent everything else had beco.
No one spoke. Not the guards. Not even Garren.
Darion sat there waiting while trying not to visibly tense up.
Beside him, Garren remained composed outwardly as always, but Darion noticed sothing subtle in the older man’s eyes.
Nervousness. Very small, but there.
Garren clearly cared about this outco too.
Of course he did. Four thousand gold coins forgiven would completely change Percvale’s future.
That wasn’t a small amount. That was years of pressure removed instantly.
The three knights standing behind Darion also looked tense now, though they tried hiding it.
Darion could almost feel the anticipation radiating through the room itself.
Eventually the guards finished counting.
One of them stepped slightly forward afterward.
"It is three thousand gold coins exactly, Your Majesty," he confird.
King Michul nodded once.
Then silence returned again.
And sohow this silence felt even heavier than before.
The king leaned slightly back in his chair while stroking part of his beard thoughtfully.
His eyes remained on Darion almost the entire ti. Long enough that it started becoming difficult to maintain eye contact comfortably.
Darion eventually found himself glancing elsewhere briefly before forcing himself to look back again.
The pressure in the room had beco unbearable. The hall felt so quiet that even the sound of a pin dropping would have felt explosive.
Darion could hear tiny things now. The shifting of cloth. The faint movent of armor when one of the guards adjusted slightly.
Even breathing sounded clearer sohow.
Then finally...
King Michul spoke.
He looked toward the guards who had returned to their positions behind him.
"Return the bag to them."
Darion was shocked.
For a brief second, his mind almost blanked completely.
Return the bag? What?
He had expected many possible outcos from this eting.
The king accepting the three thousand while demanding the remaining four later.
Or worse: The king rejecting the request outright.
Even the king lowering the debt slightly.
But this?
This was nowhere inside his predictions.
Still, Darion forced himself not to let the shock fully show on his face.
Years of constantly hiding emotions back on Earth and later surviving the Imperial Palace had at least trained him sowhat in controlling his expressions. Internally he was caught completely off guard, but outwardly he only blinked once before steadying himself again.
Beside him, Garren glanced toward him briefly.
Darion returned the glance. Neither man spoke.
But that single look alone carried enough confusion to fill the room.
Even the guards behind Darion subtly exchanged looks among themselves.
Clearly this was not what they had expected either.
One of King Michul’s guards stepped forward afterward carrying the heavy bag of coins carefully before placing it back onto the table in front of Darion.
The sound of the gold settling inside the cloth felt strangely loud. Darion stared at the bag silently for a mont.
Three thousand gold coins returned!
King Michul noticed the confusion on his face and gave a small shrug afterward before finally speaking.
"I loaned those seven thousand gold coins to Baron Selkolk," he said calmly.
Darion noted the na imdiately.
Selkolk...
So that was the na of the Baron responsible for the debt.
Like many nas in this world, it sounded strange to him. Not completely bizarre, but unfamiliar enough that his Earth instincts imdiately categorized it as another fantasy-world na he would never hear back ho.
King Michul continued speaking calmly.
"That was around thirty years ago," he said. "I was around your age back then. Perhaps younger."
A faint nostalgic smile appeared on the king’s face briefly.
"My father had just died, so I had only recently taken the throne myself."
Darion listened carefully.
"I saw Percvale’s condition back then and it genuinely disturbed ," Michul admitted. "Starving citizens, abandoned villages, failing farmland..."
He shook his head slightly.
"It was bad."
Darion stayed silent.
"The Barony looked like it was already halfway dead even then," the king continued. "And I thought perhaps coin could help stabilize things before they beca worse."
The man’s eyes drifted briefly toward the bag of gold on the table.
"So I lent Selkolk the seven thousand."
His expression flattened afterward.
"And he disappointed completely."
The hall remained quiet as the king spoke.
"He wasted it," Michul said bluntly. "Poor investnts. Pointless spending. Luxuries Percvale could not afford."
A faint irritation entered his voice now, though clearly old irritation rather than fresh anger.
"He behaved like a man trying to imitate wealthy nobles while ruling a collapsing Barony."
Darion honestly wasn’t even surprised.
That sounded painfully believable.
"Eventually," Michul continued, "The pressure beca too much and he disappeared. He ran away."
The king gave another small shrug afterward.
"I’ve never seen him again."
A faint amused breath escaped him afterward.
"Maybe he’s dead now. I honestly don’t know."
Darion could not help thinking that if Selkolk truly had fled after ruining an entire Barony financially, death might actually have been the kinder outco available to him.
"But the problem didn’t end there," Michul continued.
His expression beca thoughtful now.
"From what I heard afterward, the Barons that ca after him weren’t much better."
Darion already knew where this was going.
"They kept borrowing," Michul said. "Large sums from neighboring rulers willing to lend. So out of pity. So expecting repaynt with interest later."
The king sighed softly.
"And each new loan buried Percvale deeper."
Darion remained silent again.
There wasn’t really anything he could say against that. Everything Michul was saying was true. Percvale had beco trapped in a cycle long before Darion ever arrived there.
Weak territory. Then they Borrow money.
Fail rebuilding. Borrow more money. Get attacked. Lose more resources. Borrow again.
Again and again until eventually the Barony beca what it was now.
A hollow shell barely functioning.
King Michul folded his arms loosely afterward.
"I watched all of it happen from a distance," he admitted. "And eventually..."
He paused briefly before letting out a quiet breath.
"I stopped caring about the coins."
That surprised Darion slightly.
The king gave another shrug.
"What was I supposed to do?" he asked. "March into Percvale and take what exactly?"
That actually sounded almost identical to Darion’s own thoughts earlier.
"There was nothing left there worth taking," Michul continued calmly. "There was no prosperity, no trade.... no functioning economy."
The king shook his head slowly.
"At so point I simply looked at Percvale and thought..."
A faint smile appeared on his face again.
"Damn. That place is cursed."
One of the guards behind him tried very hard not to react to that statent.
Darion almost laughed himself. Because after everything he had seen since arriving in Percvale?
The statent didn’t even feel completely unreasonable.
King Michul’s gaze settled on Darion again afterward.
"That is..." the king said slowly.
"Until you ca along."
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