"My lord, are we really going to do this?" Watching that merchant fleet pass by, the other man standing beside the young man withdrew his gaze, turned his head, and asked him.
He wore a naval commander's uniform, utterly different from the young nobleman's attire earlier.
One was elegant and composed, carrying himself with graceful ease; the other was already fifty, yet his uniform was crisp, and he looked valiant and resolute.
As they spoke, no one stood within ten paces of them. The people farther away watched them with respectful eyes and did not dare eavesdrop.
"Shakat, you must understand. If we do not do this, there may be even greater trouble in the future." The young man from before, Romon, lord of Tatshaw Territory, stood on the deck and gazed into the distance. He spoke lightly. "You are already a Lord now. You need to think further ahead."
"Greater trouble? You mean..." Shakat was somewhat confused when he first heard Romon's words. After thinking for a moment, he frowned. "You mean His Highness the Crown Prince?"
"Yes, you guessed half of it. I do not mean only His Highness the Crown Prince, but the entire faction behind him." Romon looked out across the sea. "Our Fifth Fleet is already quite formidable. We have ten warships."
"A fleet this powerful is something no one will readily abandon. The coming Holy War will give many people a fitting excuse to swallow this newly formed fleet of ours, yet we will be unable to refuse. It could be said that we can only choose whom to sell it to, not whether to sell it at all."
"Therefore, I must find it a suitable home in advance. This is something I have to do."
"But is placing it under the Church's command