Lord Reginald awoke early, the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains. The day of his meeting had arrived, and he knew that every moment would count. Rising from the bed, he walked over to the desk where his journal lay. He flipped through the pages he had written the previous night, his observations and thoughts about Valoria.
Today, he would need to rely on every bit of intuition and insight he possessed.
He moved to the wardrobe and opened it. His attire for the meeting had been prepared by the staff—a dark suit with subtle embroidery along the collar and cuffs, elegant but not overly extravagant. He dressed with care, ensuring each piece was in place. It was not just about appearance; it was about sending a message of respect and readiness.
Once dressed, he glanced in the mirror. His face was calm, but his eyes held a hint of determination. Today's meeting was more than a formality. It was a step toward understanding Valoria's true nature and intentions. He had to be vigilant.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Enter," he said.
The door opened, and the same servant from the previous evening stepped inside, bowing slightly. "My Lord, breakfast has been prepared for you in the dining room. The vehicle to take you to Volkshalle will arrive in thirty minutes."
Reginald nodded. "Thank you. I will be down shortly."
The servant bowed again and left. Reginald took a deep breath and moved to the desk, picking up his leather-bound journal. He slipped it into his briefcase along with the documents he might need during the discussions. Then, he walked to the window and looked out at the city. The early morning light cast a different hue on Valoria, softening its hard lines.
Yet even in this serene moment, there was a sense of underlying power.
Turning away from the window, he left the room and made his way to the dining room. Breakfast was laid out—a selection of fruits, pastries, and a pot of tea. The setup was meticulous, just like everything else in Valoria. Reginald took a seat and poured himself a cup of tea, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.
He needed to stay sharp, attentive to every word and gesture during his meeting with Emily Harris.
He ate quickly but with purpose, knowing that his mind needed to be clear and focused. As he finished, he heard a faint hum of engines from outside. The vehicle had arrived. Setting down his cup, he stood and walked to the entrance of the residence.
The car was waiting just beyond the main doors, a sleek black vehicle similar to the one that had brought him here. He noticed the driver, dressed in a simple uniform, standing by the car door. As Reginald approached, the driver opened the door with a slight bow.
"Good morning, my Lord. Minister Harris is expecting you at Volkshalle," the driver said.
Reginald gave a curt nod and climbed into the back seat. The interior was spacious and understated, designed for comfort without excessive luxury. As the door closed behind him, the car began to move, gliding smoothly through the gates of the residence and onto the main road.
Reginald looked out the window as they drove through the city. Valoria was waking up, its streets gradually filling with people and vehicles. Shops opened their doors, and workers went about their tasks.
Reginald took the seat Emily had indicated, placing his briefcase on the floor beside him. Emily settled into a chair opposite him, laying a folder on the table.
"The purpose of today's meeting," Emily began, "is to discuss the establishment of diplomatic ties between Valoria and the Triesenberg Empire."
"That is correct."
Reginald couldn't help but reflect on how drastically the relationship between their nations had changed. Not long ago, Valoria and Triesenberg had been locked in a proxy conflict, supporting opposing factions in the Kingdom of Zambesi. Now, here they were, discussing the possibility of partnership.
"As I have observed while I arrived and had the opportunity to explore your nation. I must say that your country would benefit from partnering with us as we can open the window for you to the outside world. I assume that we were the first First World nation that made contact with you?"
"Yes that is correct," Emily confirmed. "Aside from the Kingdom of Zambesi of course."
"So your only first diplomatic ties are with a Black Continent nation? That is not a good start but since it's closer than to your home I'd say that it is understandable," Reginald continued, choosing his words carefully.
"It was convenient to establish a relationship with a country that is closer to us," Emily admitted. "But Valoria is ready to take on the world and introduces itself by starting to make friends with one of the strongest nations..."
"The strongest nation..." Lord Reginald corrected. "Atleast that's what all they say about Triesenberg."
Emily acknowledged his correction with a slight nod. "Indeed, Lord Reginald. Triesenberg has built a reputation as a formidable power. Valoria seeks to engage with nations that possess both influence and integrity. We believe that through this partnership, we can learn from each other and contribute to global stability."
Reginald leaned back slightly, contemplating her words. "Ms. Harris. Can you answer my curiosity? Where did you come from? According to our latest data, the place where your nation resides was nothing but the sea."
Emily's eyes flickered briefly. "Lord Reginald, I understand your curiosity. However, the details regarding Valoria's origins are classified information."
Reginald raised an eyebrow. "Classified? That seems like a rather convenient way to avoid answering a fundamental question."
Emily met his gaze calmly. "I assure you, the classification is not meant to avoid transparency but to maintain the security and sovereignty of Valoria. Our history is complex, and there are aspects of it that we are not yet prepared to disclose. What matters now is our future and how we proceed from this point onward."
Reginald studied her, searching for any hint of evasion or uncertainty. Emily Harris was a seasoned diplomat, revealing only what she intended to. There was a wall there—firm and unyielding. He knew pushing further would likely yield little.
"Very well," he said, adopting a neutral tone. "I suppose every nation has its secrets."