Polo placed a sealed parchment on the table. "My terms are simple: withdraw your army and escape with your lives."
"Escape with our lives," Victor mocked. "My army is the best in all the world; our firepower surpasses yours entirely. Would it not be wise for you to surrender?"
Polo scoffed, "From where I am sitting, I do not think experience can help you take this city. Our forces are similar in size; I have the best position to defend. Many of your men would die needless deaths below my walls."
"There is no reason for me and men to fear you, King Luxenberg," Marquis Polo continued. "The outcome of this battle is already decided. You will either capture this city at the cost of over half your army. Or you will be repelled by us and lose a lot more than half your men."
Victor smirked, "It would seem you have not factored that many of your men will die in the process. On top of that, Imperata will suffer extensive damage."
"Buildings can be rebuilt, paths can be paved again. At least we would stop an invader whose greed knows no limits," Marquis Polo replied.
"My greed knows no limits?" Victor repeated in a surprised tone.
Polo nodded. "Our continent is not yours to reform. You and your men interfere in matters that do not concern you. You take the lives of our countrymen in the pursuit of your gain."
"No," Victor agreed calmly. "But it will be your continent to lose if someone else seizes the opportunity. The Sultanate eyes the destruction of Christendom. The Tsardom of Mikhailovich is always looking to take fertile lands. If we do nothing, someone will do something worse."
Polo's silence confirmed he knew the truth of it.
Victor leaned forward, voice steady. "I do not seek annexation. I seek alignment. Imperata would remain under your governance, your laws, your officers. In fact, you could help me usher in a new wave of peace in these lands. With your help, the Zandarian people could finally escape another civil war."
Polo exhaled through his nose. "Your hypocrisy is stunning. How can there be peace when you come to our lands with an army at your back?"
Victor didn't flinch. "If I did not want peace, Marquis, we would be talking from atop smoking rubble."
The words hung between them, hard, honest, unembellished.
Polo's eyes narrowed, searching Victor's face for threats, ambition, deceit. He found none.
"Why Imperata? You could have easily marched to the central region and taken the continent's capital, but you came to the west instead. So I must, why Imperata, why the west?" Polo finally asked.
Victor answered without hesitation. "Because Imperata is key to the entire west. With the western region supporting me, there is nowhere for Alphonse to run. Additionally, Imperata is a key city on this continent. Having its support would make my campaign conclude quicker, and with that, peace would be quick to return."
"And you trust me to hold the west for you? How do you know that I won't continue to be loyal to the Pope?"
"It is a gamble," Victor said, "But if I were to elevate you to Grand Duke and Warden of the West, I am sure you would not betray me."
Polo rose from his seat. "You are lying! There is no way you grant me that."
Victor smiled, "Oh, but I would. Count Vella and Count Greco would be released from their captivity and would serve you. Then you would demand submission from the two remaining Counts in the west."
Marquis Polo had to be seated. "What happens to Zandar once you conquer it?"
Victor took a moment to ponder that question. "One of my Field Marshals will act as the Protector of Zandar. He will govern in my absence, but he will do everything in his power to better the lives of the people."
"Your offer is bold," Polo said. "Too bold for me to accept blindly. I need time. A day."
Victor didn't argue. "You'll have until sunset tomorrow. After that, I must act."
Polo nodded once. A mutual understanding, sharp as steel, passed between them.
As Victor walked back to his camp, Marshal Davout walked up beside him.
"Well?" Davout asked.
Victor looked toward Imperata, where Marquis Polo's escort was disappearing behind the gates.
"Polo is a cautious man," Victor said. "But not a fool. If he sees the future clearly, he will choose to swear fealty to me."
"And if he doesn't?" Davout asked
Victor's gaze hardened. "Then Imperata must be taken." A slow pause followed before Victor issued an order. "Prepare the batteries, but keep the powder dry. Tomorrow, we will know if we need to fire them or not."
Dawn came pale and windless, a thin gold line creeping over the western hills and spilling across the plain. The Luxenberg camp stirred early; men moved with quiet purpose, tightening straps, checking ramrods, hauling powder crates toward the gun lines.
Luxenberg soldiers gathered on the forward lines, muskets primed. The tension was a living thing, prickling over the skin of every man present. A single flare of gunpowder, a single misinterpreted command, could rip the day wide open.
At last, a horn sounded from within the city. Not a war horn. Not the signal for a sortie. A long, steady call filled with resignation. Victor's breath eased, almost imperceptibly.
A figure emerged from the eastern gatehouse on horseback, cloak whipping gently in the wind. It was Marquis Polo. He did not ride flanked by guards. He rode alone. Victor rode alone to meet him.
"I have made my decision, King Luxenberg," he said when Victor approached. His voice was low, but it carried; every soldier present seemed to lean into the wind to catch the words. "Imperata is yours, King Luxenberg."
A ripple passed through the Luxenberg lines, a wave of released breath.
Victor stepped forward and placed a hand on Polo's shoulder, acceptance, not triumph. "You have chosen wisely, Marquis. Let no man here doubt your courage."
Polo straightened, relief and bitterness warring in his eyes.
"The gates will be opened. My men will lay down arms by sunset."
Victor nodded. "No need for that. You and your men will make sure the west is fully under your control. I trust that you will not betray me. But if you do, best believe I will bring the entirety of the Luxenberg Army upon you."
Marquis Polo nodded sternly, recognising Victor's warning.
The West would soon fall into Victor's rule, leaving Alphonse and the Pope stunned.