Seeing the short-statured marshal being led out of the meeting room, his mouth stuffed with a handkerchief and a group of Earth Priests "escorting" him, Murphy even gave him a warm, considerate smile and waved goodbye. Loren's furious glare was, of course, the response he got.
The messages flickering in those angry eyes could have filled a several-thousand-word essay on the short-statured marshal's complicated feelings at that moment.
That's right. This was a trap targeting him!
Loren had been running from marriage for years. The man might have suffered from an incurable case of "gamophobia." Judging by old man Oufuge's complaints, the short-statured marshal had always insisted that his career came first, dragging his childhood sweetheart and cousin from the age of sixty all the way to sixty-eight. That was barely adulthood by dwarf standards, but dwarves had their own cultural quirks.
Their engagement had been arranged long ago, with King Louis and the Silver Lord acting as the "elders" on both sides. To put it formally, this was a "political marriage."
Marshal Loren was half human and had grown up in the human world. He'd even risen to become a big shot in the Plantagenet Kingdom's military, making him more than qualified to represent the kingdom's dignity. It wasn't all that strange for King Louis to arrange a political marriage himself. Murphy had played only a tiny, insignificant part in it.
"Notify the Batasin Trading Company. While Loren's being dragged off to get married, speed up efforts to draw immigrants from the Kato region!"
Murphy turned and instructed Adele:
"I've already sent a letter to the Grand Duke of Wolfsbane. The Wolfsbane clan will use their influence in the underworld to support our operation. This window won't stay open for long. I estimate Loren will be back at Dorod