Ortona’s capital, Brindisi.
Once a beautiful city that was the center of high-level literature, it was now covered with the filthy tents of refugees and wandering beggars, no longer resembling its former self.
In the center of the city stood the half-destroyed Magenta Palace. This place, too, had once boasted a scale and beauty rivaling that of the Delcross Imperial Palace, but after the fall of the Sardinia dynasty that had lasted for about half a century, it was now becoming an empty ruin without an owner.
In the desolate palace’s grand conference room.
Surrounding a massive table, four nobles were now gathered in one place.
They were the lords of Castiya, Milo, Benso, and Cavour territories, each wielding power significant enough to be considered the true powers of Ortona.
During the civil war, they often held strategy meetings here against the republican faction, and even after the country’s downfall, they occasionally held irregular meetings in this place.
“First, congratulations on your son’s marriage, Count Castiya.”
The topics discussed by these men, who hadn’t seen each other in a long time, were nothing special.
Count Castiya had taken a daughter-in-law from a wealthy family in Anatolia. She was plain-looking, but it was said she brought an enormous dowry, even more than her plump figure suggested. Things like that.
“None of you have even seen the new bride, yet you’re all so harsh with your words. At least…