“I am not sure whether to be happy about the last few days or not.” Braydon had said that he did not want to deal with the merchants that would try to make connections after the power reshuffle. But not a single one had come to visit him. Rhydian did not even have to turn anyone away. He knew that his lands were not exactly a great bastion of commerce but that was a little much.
“The bigger merchants are probably waiting to see who the King rewards before trying anything. They can predict all that they want but if they are wrong then they might lose out.” Nela chuckled at Braydon. No matter how much he did not care about the opinions of others, it was not a pleasant feeling to be snubbed. By merchants of all people.
“Even if my territory triples in size, if the border is not open or that land does not include Wathamalin then I doubt much would change.” Braydon knew how merchants worked. In some ways they were honest to a fault. If it was not profitable enough, they would not do it. It was why he liked them better than the average noble.
“Is somebody reaching a bit there?” Nela could not help but laugh at the wishful thinking of Braydon. With his current territory including two viscounties, to triple in size would need more than an earldom to be added to the list. Whilst he may have contributed to the war, it was rare for somebody to jump more than a rank, especially the higher the rank that they were. It was one thing to become an earl from a baron, it was something else to become a duke or a marquess from a viscount.
“I have no hope of that. Not from one war. At the very least my legitimacy in Kirton should be recognised.” Braydon was after all not the viscount of Kirton de jure, only de facto. Whilst it wasn’t a big difference when it came to occupying the place, if it wasn’t recognised by the King it was unlikely that he would receive any more titles.
“I doubt that the King wants to sour relations with us just yet. We are the largest iron producer in the country.” Nela could not see a reason why Braydon would not be granted that and more. As one of the few lords in Fiveria with an iron mine he would be in hot demand as the various lords tried to rebuild their depleted stock of weapons and armour.
“We should probably get going, the ceremony is in an hour. Even if I am friendly with the King, I doubt that being late would help me much.” It would be quite ironic for the King to announce his rewards after turning up late. Braydon did not want to bet on the King giving him anything if he did that.
“You know, I sometimes forget how many of us there are.” Braydon could not help but sigh. Even after the amount of lords that had lost their lives to the hands of Duke Burn and Duke Ryder’s slaughter of Earl Blake and Duke Oakley’s factions.
“The previous King did give out a number of honorary titles. Even if they have no weight at court, they do not want to give King Aled a reason to cut down on the number.” Rhydian answered with a bit of trivia Braydon knew that he would not remember for long. He barely knew the names of most landed nobles. He was sure as hell not learning about those with no lands and no ability to pass on their title.
“Is there anything worth knowing about these people at all? Or can I pretend that they do not exist?” Braydon was more than eager not to bother with them if he did not have to.
“Most of them you can ignore but that does not mean that there are not a few notable exceptions. A number of guild leaders or important merchants have honorary titles too, you know.” Rhydian decided not to mention that many of the merchants had paid through the nose for their titles. Braydon already had a bad opinion of them. No need to give more reasons.
“I suppose I will have to learn about them later then.” Braydon had to end the conversation even if he did not want to as the ceremony was about to start. The royal crier had moved to the middle of the great hall, there was only one reason for this.
“King Aled of Fiveria has arrived!” On cue, the crier turned to face the crowd and announced. Being so shrill was a talent that only criers seemed to have. At least Braydon had never seen anyone else be able to replicate such feats.
Following the crier’s cry, the lords in the great hall bowed to varying extents, depending on their ranks. Their retinues around them were mostly on one knee, with some exceptions. Among Braydon’s group, Nela was one of those exceptions. As she was the heir to her father’s title she did not have to take a knee during a ceremony, instead curtsying next to Braydon.
“You may rise!” The King proclaimed. Though Braydon noted, nowhere near as shrill as the crier. Had that been the case he was sure that he would have laughed, consequences be damned.
“I am sure that none need be told about the reason that we have gathered today.” The King began as Braydon’s brain slowly switched off. He already had some understanding of how royal ceremonies went. He could turn back on when the King sat on the throne. That was when the speech would end and anything worth listening to would begin. And given how much gold the King was wearing, he was sure that it would not be a long speech. He knew that Aled did not like to wear such regalia, his best guess was that it reminded him of his father too much. A thought that Braydon sympathised with, he would hate to dress like his own father too.
