The secret chamber fell silent again, with the sound of the candle flame crackling ever so softly, and the scent of dragon musk growing even more intense, almost stifling.
Lampard's mind was racing, and he was calculating.
To kill Duke Calvin or to save him.
The exhilaration and shock from the former would last only a moment, whereas the latter maintained the fragile stability of the Southeast Province.
The Empire was already fragmented.
He had the powerful endorsement of the Church Court but lacked sufficient Gold Coins.
The treasury was empty, and even the knights' pay had begun to fall in arrears, with next month's wages still uncertain.
The Calvin Clan was not just a purse; it was also the reason why the old nobility of the Southeast was still willing to stand by his side.
Lampard understood this well.
His thoughts continued to spin forward—if he killed the Duke now…
