Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 131: [] Pressure

Inside the grand hall, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun streaming through stained glass windows, the atmosphere was calm—yet laced with underlying tension. The scent of lavender flowers, carefully arranged along the pillars, did little to mask the reality that this meeting was one of diplomacy and critical decisions that would shape the future direction of the Kingdom of Lutharia.

Queen Cynereth sat gracefully on her throne, clad in a dusk-blue gown embroidered with silver threads, a hallmark of the royal family. Her gaze was sharp yet composed, scanning the gathered advisors and emissaries with the precision of a ruler long accustomed to power.

At her left sat the princess—Marie—a young woman with sapphire-bright eyes and a demeanor far warmer than her mother’s. She wore an emerald-green dress that contrasted with her neatly tied blonde hair. Though she appeared calm, Marie attentively recorded every word spoken by the envoy from the eastern territories.

"...Therefore, if the kingdom does not soon take a clear stance, the trade alliance may collapse. We do not seek conflict, but we can no longer remain passive," said one of the envoys, his tone polite but clearly pressing. He hailed from a feudal region on the eastern border, which had recently become vulnerable to the growing influence of the central empire.

Queen Cynereth gave a slow nod before replying in a flat but firm tone, "We understand the urgency, but Lutharia will not rush into decisions that may compromise regional stability. Every course of action must go through thorough deliberation and will not shift merely under political pressure dressed as concern."

"Your Majesty, according to our king, he sincerely wishes for you to heed his request," said the envoy—an elderly man in a maroon robe with golden embroidery, his voice gentle yet sharpened by years of diplomatic training. "Forgive my bluntness, but we wish to avoid prolonged conflict on the border; our people are weary, and every uncertainty only deepens their suffering."

Cynereth tilted her head, her eyes locking onto the man’s face with regal sharpness as she replied, "Lord Verentis—or should I call you by your more renowned title, the Old Fox of Thalderich. I do not question your goodwill, but even polite diplomacy becomes pressure when wrapped too finely."

Marie, who had been quietly observing, leaned forward slightly as she addressed the envoy, "If King Thalderich expects us to comply with his request, then he had better open a fair channel for negotiation. We need guarantees that this isn’t just a tactic to expand imperial influence."

Verentis narrowed his eyes, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Of course, Princess Marie. I myself believe alliances must be built on mutual trust, not coercion. That is why I’ve brought something to offer... a gesture of goodwill."

He retrieved a small scroll from within his robe, placing the sealed document on the negotiation table. A faint scent of fresh ink lingered in the air, indicating that it had been written recently—perhaps just moments before the meeting began.

Cynereth stared at the scroll without moving, then signaled a guard to retrieve it. "We will examine its contents. And you know, Verentis—if even a single line in this document undermines the sovereignty of Lutharia, I will consider it an insult."

Upon review, the scroll turned out to be a copy of a proposed pact regarding the eastern border dispute between Lutharia and territories under imperial control. Though the language appeared neutral, it subtly embedded phrases that could be read as veiled coercion, such as "historical recognition of imperial rights" and "administrative adjustments for regional stability."

Queen Cynereth read through each line, her brow gradually rising as her eyes occasionally flicked toward Verentis, who maintained a mysterious smile. One hand clenched on her lap, but her voice remained cold as she said, "This is not a pact. It’s a one-sided acknowledgment dressed in the ink of diplomacy and hidden intentions."

Verentis responded with a slow nod, as if he had anticipated such a reaction. "I won’t deny some parts may seem... biased. But allow me to emphasize that this is merely a draft. We are open to negotiation—even revision, if necessary."

Princess Marie rolled her eyes subtly but didn’t hide her disdain. "Revision?" she asked with a touch of sarcasm. "Is it common practice to send a trap wrapped in paper and call it a ’starting point’?"

"If that is your interpretation, then allow me to propose a follow-up meeting in a neutral forum," Verentis replied swiftly, as though he had rehearsed the line. "We will invite mediators from three other nations, including Ortemia, to ensure there is no absolute bias."

Cynereth leaned back slowly into her throne, her eyes sharp enough to cut through the envoy’s slippery smile. "In that case, we will consider attending... this forum. But remember—Lutharia does not beg for peace. We negotiate it."

"As Your Majesty wills," Verentis replied with a deep bow. "I am pleased this conversation ends not in anger, but with a willingness to continue diplomacy."

Cynereth gave no response, merely staring coldly as she gave a subtle gesture to a guard to roll up and store the document. Princess Marie rose to her feet, her skirt swaying elegantly with the movement, and added sharply, "And tell King Thalderich... just because Lutharia is silent, doesn’t mean we are blind."

Verentis only smiled wider, offering one final bow before stepping back—knowing that while no ground had been won that day, the game had only just begun.

After Verentis exited the royal hall, a silence lingered until Queen Cynereth let out a long breath. The sound was like the release of a burden she had masked throughout the diplomatic exchange. Marie’s light steps moved softly to her mother’s side.

Without saying a word, the princess began gently massaging the queen’s shoulders with her delicate fingers. Her movements were attentive, yet a subtle tension showed on her usually calm face. "My goodness, they’re so blatant with their intent to colonize," she muttered softly, though the irritation in her voice was unmistakable.

Cynereth turned slightly, offering her daughter a faint smile that did little to conceal her exhaustion. "They think we’ll bow just because they brought a piece of paper and a fake smile," she said quietly, yet firmly—like steel wrapped in velvet.

Marie gave a small nod, her eyes drifting toward the heavy curtains on the side of the room, as if envisioning a battlefield far larger than this diplomatic chamber. "Should we reject the pact outright? Or let them play their game, then turn the tables at the forum?"

"We’ll let them believe they have the upper hand." Cynereth leaned back slightly, indulging for a moment in her daughter’s massage. "In this game, the one who draws the sword first is often the first to lose their head."

The princess chuckled softly, her laughter light but her eyes sharp with alertness. "Then make sure of one thing, Mother... if a sword must be drawn, it won’t be our heads that fall first."

Queen Cynereth nodded once—slowly, yet with firm resolve, like a leader who already knew the terrain before the battle had begun. "And for that, we’ll need more than just defenses. We need eyes, ears, and hands that can move freely beyond the palace walls. Summon Elric—I want the latest reports from the eastern border, and movements of the imperial troops that have been suspiciously quiet."

Marie listened closely, raising an eyebrow as her mother added, "And... send a diplomatic message to Lord Arkan."

The princess tilted her head slightly, her tone filled with curiosity. "Baron of Lawrence?"

Cynereth stared straight ahead, her voice even but heavy with meaning. "Yes. That name has been echoing more frequently among the elite. In just a few months, he’s reshaped a territory that was nearly dead... and now, he’s building something much greater."

Marie folded her arms across her chest, her face thoughtful in silence. "In that case... may I be the one to meet him in person?" she asked cautiously—but without the slightest trace of hesitation.

The queen turned to her, her gaze sharp yet full of trust. "That would be a significant move, Marie. Are you sure you can handle diplomacy with a man as shrewd as he is?"

The princess gave a faint smile—not the spoiled smile of a palace-bred noblewoman, but the confident grin of a true heir who understood the power plays behind the veil of diplomacy. "Not only can I... but I must."

Queen Cynereth studied her daughter intently, weighing the quiet strength behind her composed demeanor. "Technically, in the proper order of things, I should summon him here. He’s still a noble of the realm, and Lawrence remains under our recognized authority."

She paused for a moment, her eyes sharpening, then continued in a low voice thick with significance. "But... demanding his presence at the palace under such tense circumstances would be a poor move. We need his capabilities, not wounded pride."

Marie responded with a small nod, her eyes sparkling with readiness. Cynereth then leaned back into the throne’s embrace and drew a deep breath.

"Very well. I grant you permission. Meet him—not just as Lutharia’s envoy. Meet him as the heir to my throne."

###

Meanwhile...

In the luxurious villa provided by the Kingdom of Lutharia, diplomat Verentis sat in quiet contemplation on the balcony, letting the evening breeze rustle his heavy robe. He exhaled deeply, his gaze drifting toward the palace towers still visible in the distant horizon.

"Their reaction... understandable," he murmured softly, as if speaking to his own shadow. "This request... is excessive. Even by imperial standards."

He clutched a now-cold teacup, his brows furrowed as he mulled over the increasingly precarious situation. Though loyal to his homeland, Verentis was not a man fond of oppressive power—especially when it sought to erode the dignity of others.

"Pressuring an ancient kingdom with a hollow pact... as if their history and honor could be bought with threats," he muttered again, a bitter edge in his low voice.

He twisted the ring on his finger—the symbol of trust from the imperial court—yet it now felt like a burden on his hand. "The new king is too hasty... too aggressive... and too young to understand that true power isn’t about who pushes hardest."

Verentis glanced inside the villa, where his assistant was sifting through scattered military reports on a glass table. In his heart, he knew this diplomatic road was growing narrower by the day. But he also knew—if war broke out, all sides would suffer heavy losses.

And that was exactly what he intended to prevent... for as long as he still could.