Mutual Rumor-Mongering

The distance between the Riverbend and the Imperial Capital was immense, making courier travel rather inconvenient, so messages had to rely mostly on carrier ravens.

Marquis Faher had instructed his family knight, Messer, to dispatch a letter via raven every single day, reporting on Reyn’s precise movements in the capital.

As Reyn gained the favor of the Empress and assumed the post of Commander of the Imperial Capital Garrison, Marquis Faher had beamed with radiant joy for days upon receiving the news, feeling as though he had grown several years younger overnight.

*Ha, the resurgence of the House of Faher begins with me!*

Yet, a harsh reality check quickly followed.

On the very day Reyn decided to resign under a cloud of blame, Messer detailed the situation in a letter and sent it back to the elderly Marquis.

The old Marquis read the letter for a long time, his expression twisting into spasms of uncontrollable fury.

*Uueless fool!*

*You hadn't even been Commander of the Imperial Capital Garrison for a month, so how could you commit such a fatal error! You knew full well that mobs were running rampant in the capital and showing no respect for the nobility—why didn't you protect the grand estates of the high lords when the procession marched?*

*And to cause Duke Dacross to die a miserable death, forcing you to resign and crawl out of the capital in disgrace! Now the people of the imperial capital will utterly view our House of Faher as incompetent bumpkins!*

The old Marquis now held as much hatred and revulsion for his son Reyn as he had previously felt fondness.

"I hear Reyn is coming back," a Faher kinsman suggested during a banquet. "Perhaps we should send a detachment to Hawk's Fort to welcome him specially, so as to display the family's high regard for Reyn."

"Seconded! Seconded!" the others immediately chimed in. "He is a great contributor to the family; we mustn't let him feel cold-hearted!"

"Cold-hearted my ass!" shouted the elderly Marquis of Faher in a fit of rage, violently swinging his arms to sweep everything off the table before storming away in fury, leaving the gathering of Faher relatives staring at one another in dismay.

Just days prior, the old Marquis had showered his son Reyn with endless praise, utterly satisfied beyond measure. Everyone had witnessed it, which was why they had chosen today to properly flatter the old Marquis.

The more one affirms a son's achievements, the more it praises the father's sound upbringing—this principle held true anywhere, among any race... So why had the old Marquis suddenly blown a gasket?

Could Reyn have fallen out of favor once more?

Soon enough, utilizing their respective channels of information, everyone had a rough idea of what had happened in the capital.

Consequently, gloating and mockery echoed everywhere. At first, they restrained themselves out of respect for the old Marquis's face, but upon realizing that he seemingly didn't care, the taunts and jeers gradually grew louder.

An elderly Faher kinsman (of the same generation as Reyn's grandfather) got drunk at the banquet and smugly lectured his surrounding nephews:

"I’ve always said Reyn wouldn't amount to anything. The Imperial Capital—is that the kind of place where one can easily make a name for oneself? Which of the nobles there didn't grow up steeped in schemes and conspiracies, where even the dogs they keep know how to deceive? It was never a place where we Faher folk belong!"

"All that political maneuvering and calculation is false and hollow! Military-merit nobility like us should honestly remain in the borders, earning honor and wealth through foreign wars. You lot shouldn't go licking the boots of that so-called Virtue Empress the way Reyn did; it's useless. She treats him like a lapdog—crooking her finger for him to lie down when she's amused, and driving him away once she's had her fun..."

The more he spoke, the more carried away he became, his voice rising uncontrollably.

The elderly Marquis of Faher sat at the head of the table, coldly watching this uncle spout nonsense, until the man finally began to slander the royal family. At last, the Marquis waved over the on-duty family knight and instructed:

"He's drunk. Sober him up."

The old man was still fabricating the romance between Reyn and the Empress when a basin of cold water was suddenly dumped over his head, soaking him through to the bone.

He leaped up in fury, his gaze sweeping rapidly around. Seeing the icy glare in the eyes of the old Marquis at the head table, he sheepishly sat back down, shrunk his neck, and pretended he didn't exist.

The elderly Marquis of Faher's mood grew increasingly foul. Even though, by the count of days, Reyn was due to arrive in Sea Rock City today, he had not the slightest desire to pay him any mind.

*Let him crawl back.*

The family majordomo walked across the banquet hall holding a carrier raven; it turned out that family knight Messer had sent another letter back.

The old Marquis pulled out the parchment, scanned it casually for a few moments, and tossed it impatiently onto the table.

*Wait, something feels off?*

He quickly picked the letter back up and continued reading:

"...The procession's pace has consistently failed to pick up because Her Majesty the Empress bestowed numerous treasures, hoping the family could send some men to help transport them so as not to delay the efficiency of the return journey."

*Hold on, why would Her Majesty the Empress bestow treasures? Wasn't Reyn forced to resign his post as commander due to incompetence?*

The elderly Marquis of Faher pondered for a moment and immediately deduced a likely scenario:

*A demotion in name, a promotion in reality.*

In other words, Reyn had not been dismissed for angering Her Majesty the Empress. Quite the contrary, he had willingly taken the blame for Her Majesty to shield the royal family from becoming deeply mired in public controversy.

Her Majesty the Empress was exceedingly pleased with his loyalty, which was why she had specifically bestowed these treasures, hinting that this dismissal was merely to let him leave the capital to weather the storm, and once the uproar completely subsided, she would find an opportunity to promote him anew.

*Hahahahaha! I am old and foolish, letting my preconceptions wrong this good son!*

*Right, he is arriving in Sea Rock City today...*

At this thought, the elderly Marquis of Faher abruptly stood up and hurried out of the banquet hall.

The remaining relatives looked at each other in bewilderment, momentarily unsure whether they should continue feasting or quickly follow.

"What are you standing around for?" The old Marquis thrust his upper body back through the entrance of the hall and roared angrily, "Go welcome Reyn, you idiots!"

The relatives were stunned for a moment, then scrambled to their feet in a chaotic flurry.

Meanwhile, Reyn's family entourage had already crossed the fertile lands and officially stepped into the territory of the House of Faher.

Knowing that she was about to see her pure and flawless little sister Daya, Ellyrina’s mood finally improved, and she urged Reyn:

"We're almost there. Can you speed up?"

"No, bear with it a little longer," Reyn replied lazily.

Ellyrina paused for a fraction of a second, her expression instantly turning frosty, revealing a look of utter disgust.

"Oh, I just love double-entendres like that," Bersahlia rode her horse forward, smiling brightly. "Reyn, please forgive Ellyrina's bashfulness and bad manners. After all, like me, she's just an untouched old spinster..."

"Shut up, Bersahlia!" Ellyrina said irritably. "Maintaining my chastity is my own voluntary choice, unlike you!"

"What about me?" Bersahlia's face also darkened. "Ellyrina, do you dare slander the oath I swore to the gods?"

"Ah, yes. The maiden's oath forbids you from engaging in intimate contact with any male, but forgot to forbid you from using other methods to satisfy the dark elves' filthy instinctual urges," Ellyrina sneered. "I hear that thousands of worn-out refined wooden batons are discarded in the Radiant Sun Court every year, and many dark elves even spend exorbitant sums to buy these used goods just to taste what the Queen once experienced."

"Starting to spread rumors, are we?" Bersahlia narrowed her eyes and said maliciously, "Pity it's not like someone who loathed her maidenhood for being inconvenient to stride across the battlefield, and actually performed surgery on herself with a sterilized spear tip, resulting in being unable to get out of bed or close her legs for half a month."

"Ladies, please allow me to interrupt for a moment," Reyn said deliberately. "Ellyrina certainly never did anything of the sort. I’ve checked her pelvis; the closure is tight and completely intact."

"My apologies, perhaps I was mistaken," Bersahlia covered her mouth and laughed, dripping with malice and mockery. "Now that I think about it, the rumor about the metal spear tip is indeed too bizarre, but I’ve heard an even more bizarre one—that Her Highness Ellyrina's passage is naturally sealed, and thus she was born without worldly desires..."

Ellyrina abruptly leaped down from her mount and instinctively grabbed the long spear hanging beside her saddle.

"Bersahlia!" she snarled through gritted teeth, "Do you dare to fight a duel to the death right here! Let the gods witness which of those rumors are true and which are false!"

"Why wouldn't I?" Bersahlia quickly dismounted as well, drawing the longsword at her waist.

The family knights reined in their horses one after another, watching the tense, bristling elves in astonishment, only to hear Reyn loudly commanding:

"Messer! Have the servants get off the carriages and bring me chairs! And where's the chef? Roast some beans for me to snack on; I want to watch their duel from the front row!"