Richard listened and nodded in deep agreement.
Atticus saw Richard nod and wanted to argue, but George didn’t give him a chance.
George turned to Richard and bowed slightly.
“Father King, since Brother Atticus is unsuitable, I nominate myself.”
George said sincerely, “I am willing to represent you, Father King, and the royal family, to go to the border to pay homage to the Goddess.”
George began to list his strengths.
“I am usually in charge of the kingdom’s diplomacy, and I understand etiquette and propriety best.”
“I know what kind of rhetoric to use when dealing with different people.”
“When facing the Goddess, I will absolutely maintain the utmost respect and never make any mistakes.”
George paused, then added fuel to the fire.
“Moreover, I don’t need to bring so many knights.”
“I’ll just bring a few guards and cartloads of supplies, traveling light, so the Goddess can see our sincerity.”
After speaking, George shot a provocative look at Atticus.
Atticus’s face darkened with anger.
Just then, Zeweier suddenly laughed out loud.
Now everyone had laid their cards on the table.
All that talk about the greater good of the kingdom and expressing sincerity was complete nonsense.
Everyone knew that going to the border to see the Goddess was related to the succession to the throne.
The rule of the Kingdom of Aezera was that whoever gained the most popular support was qualified to sit on the throne.
Now that the Goddess had descended, all the commoners of the kingdom were watching the border.
Whoever could first represent the royal family and meet the Goddess, receiving her affirmation, would earn a tremendous reputation.
The commoners would think that prince was recognized by the divine.
At that time, even if Richard didn’t want to pass on the throne, he would be forced by public opinion to hand over the crown.
This was a huge political leverage.
Atticus wanted it, George wanted it, and of course Zeweier wanted it too.
“Father King.” Zeweier prepared to throw out his final bargaining chip.
The words he was about to say would completely finish off these two fools.
Zeweier looked at Richard. “Isn’t Saintess Cecilia at the border right now?”
“Coincidentally, I have some important matters concerning the Sanctuary Council that require immediate discussion with the Saintess in person.”
“I can also bring supplies to support the border, and then I can also pay homage to the Goddess—three birds with one stone.”
Zeweier’s tone was very serious, as if this were truly a matter of utmost urgency for the nation.
In the Kingdom of Aizela, the authority of the Sanctuary Council was no less than that of the royal family; it was a religious organization with a special status.
The nuns within were responsible for spreading the faith of the Goddess among the commoners, and the priests were responsible for healing the injured.
Over the years, in order to maintain his image among the people, Zeweier had spent large sums of money to financially support various constructions of the Sanctuary Council.
He paid to build churches for the Sanctuary Council and bought grain to distribute to the poor.
Although this money was all hard-earned blood money squeezed from the commoners, on the surface, Zeweier had a very good reputation among both the commoners and the grassroots members of the Sanctuary Council.
Everyone thought the Second Prince was a great philanthropist.
Now, using the Sanctuary Council as an excuse, Zeweier proposed going to the border to discuss matters with the Saintess, which would certainly lead to meeting the Goddess.
A perfect excuse.
If he directly said he wanted to see the Goddess, it would be for the throne, too utilitarian.
Father King would definitely hesitate.
But going to see the Saintess to discuss the Sanctuary Council’s charitable projects was for the kingdom’s livelihood and to pacify the commoners.
This was a perfectly justifiable reason that no one could find fault with.
Atticus and George gritted their teeth secretly.
They never expected that Zeweier had such a deep card hidden.
Atticus wanted to refute, but he usually disdained dealing with those poor priests of the Sanctuary Council, so now he couldn’t even find an excuse.
George’s mind raced.
He knew that he absolutely could not let Zeweier solidify this excuse.
George straightened up and put on that fake smile again.
George looked at Zeweier, his tone clearly skeptical.
“Second Brother,” George said slowly. “With your generous support, the Sanctuary Council has been thriving and running very smoothly. Churches everywhere are singing praises of your generosity.”
George deliberately emphasized the word “generosity.”
“I don’t understand, what matters does the Sanctuary Council still have that require you, the esteemed Second Prince, to personally trouble yourself by going to such a dangerous place as the border?”
George’s question was very pointed.
The meaning was clear.
Don’t pretend, the Sanctuary Council has nothing major happening, you just want an excuse to see the Goddess.
Everyone’s gaze focused on Zeweier, waiting for his answer.
Facing George’s provocation, Zeweier was not flustered at all.
Instead, he smiled even more brightly, his chubby cheeks bunching up until his eyes were nearly invisible.
“Little brother,” Zeweier sighed, speaking in a tone of an elder admonishing a younger.
“This is where your vision is too narrow.”
George’s face instantly changed; he hated it when people said his vision was narrow.
Zeweier didn’t give George any chance to retort; he turned to look at Richard and the elders present.
“Matters of the Sanctuary Council are never trivial.” Zeweier’s voice became impassioned.
“The Sanctuary Council concerns the faith and livelihood of countless commoners in our kingdom.”
“Now the border has just suffered an attack by the Demon Race, and the commoners are displaced, filled with fear.”
Zeweier waved his hands, speaking passionately. “At this time, the Sanctuary Council needs to increase its relief efforts.”
“They need more supplies, they need to reassure the people. How can the Saintess alone handle all these things at the border?”
Zeweier spoke with great righteousness. “For the well-being and development of our people, as the Second Prince of the Kingdom of Aizela, it is my duty to handle every matter personally and not dare to slacken in the slightest!”
Zeweier looked at George. “Little brother, you sit in your study in the Royal Capital handling diplomatic documents that others have prepared for you; of course you think there’s nothing that requires personal effort.”
“But I am different. My heart is always with those suffering commoners.”
Zeweier’s words were a textbook-level performance.
He packaged his selfish motives as a great sentiment of worrying about the country and the people.
At the same time, he took a dig at George, saying he only knew how to enjoy comfort in the capital and didn’t care about the commoners’ welfare.
George was left speechless by Zeweier’s words. He was so angry his hands were trembling, but he couldn’t find any words to refute.
Because Zeweier had seized the moral high ground.
Zeweier’s voice fell.
The council hall was silent for a few seconds.
Then, the elders sitting on both sides of the long table began to whisper among themselves.
“His Highness the Second Prince makes sense.”
“Yes, the Sanctuary Council indeed needs to pacify the border commoners now.”
“For His Highness the Second Prince to have such a heart is truly a blessing for the kingdom.”