Grand Knight Verren.
Michael did not need Seria to explain that na.
Even he, who ignored most politics, knew it.
This was soone at the very peak of the kingdom's strength.
Renn did not even need to be a noble.
With that title behind him, even a commoner would have been treated as high nobility.
The fact that he was already a baron's son only made the matter easier to accept.
Which was why no one spoke.
Mouths that had been half open to object closed without a sound. Eyes that had been filled with disdain cooled into calculation.
Grand Knight Verren had always kept himself far from court gas. He answered directly to the crown.
He did not attach himself to factions, did not attend banquets like this, and rarely took personal disciples.
And now his first and only disciple was standing among the ten. Of course he would.
Here and there, a few nobles finally connected the na to a recent mory.
The duke's competition.
The youth with a wooden sword.
The baron's son who had stood on even ground with an empire prince and struck him down in front of the capital.
Renn Noah.
Michael watched the shifting expressions around the hall.
For a mont, he could almost see the image again.
A worn wooden blade.
A youth standing straight despite exhaustion.
An unconcealed, stubborn will.
He felt his lips pull slightly.
If soone like that did not qualify for a place in the ruin, then the word talent had no aning at all.
From the mont Grand Knight Verren's na was spoken, the earlier tension shifted.
Doubt turned into grudging acceptance.
For now, there was no room to argue.
That was when Michael felt it.
Two gazes.
He did not need to look to know who they belonged to, but he looked anyway.
On the high platform, the Seventh Prince's eyes slid briefly across the hall, passing over nobles and guests before pausing on him for a heartbeat that lasted just a little too long.
Not far from him, the Ninth Prince, Raelion, did the sa.
Their attention moved on as if nothing had happened.
Michael's fingers tapped once against the stem of his glass.
So that is how it is.
From the first na to now, everything had been too clean.
The Tenth Prince.
The three academy prodigies.
The noble heirs.
Renn Noah with Grand Knight Verren behind him.
Every choice had been firm, sharp and hard to attack.
Justifiable on paper.
Defensible in public.
Yet the Ninth and Seventh Princes had still forced this entire list into
the open.
Michael had wondered what they wanted to achieve.
The closer they ca to the end, the clearer it beca.
They were not doing this out of idle curiosity.
Only a fool would pick a fight with the Second Prince in front of the
entire noble circle for no reason.
Michael let his gaze drift back to the scroll in the attendant's hands.
Two nas remained.
One of them was his.
He exhaled slowly, feeling his thoughts settle.
So that is where the conflict will start.
And as expected, the two princes finally acted.
The Ninth Prince spoke first.
"It seems clear to everyone," he said, "that the royal family chose well. Every candidate announced so far is truly one of the brightest in the kingdom under the age allowed by the ruin."
A wave of nods moved through the nobles.
No one objected.
How could they?
Every single na had co with force, prestige or achievent
behind it.
The Seventh Prince followed with an easy laugh.
"I agree completely."
So nobles allowed themselves a small breath of relief.
So even felt excitent rising in their chests.
Ten more slots were opening.
And the first ten were already so far above them that competing with
them had always been unrealistic.
But none of those emotions showed on their faces.
No one dared look too pleased in front of the Second Prince while tension still hung in the air from being interrupted again.
The Second Prince opened his mouth to speak.
He never got the chance.
The Seventh Prince raised his hand in a casual gesture.
"To be honest," he said, "I only knew a few of the nas on this list
before tonight. It is the sa for many of us here."
The Ninth Prince nodded, smiling toward the crowd.
"It cannot be helped. Among all the princes, only Second Brother was
deeply involved. And seeing the results, we can only say he perford
admirably."
The Seventh Prince continued without pause.
"In that case, since the list is almost complete, I believe Second
Brother can reveal the last two nas together. I'm sure they will be
the sa as the rest."
The Ninth Prince added smoothly.
"And then we may finally move on to the exciting part of the banquet."
At this point, even the Second Prince struggled to keep his
composure.
A faint pressure rolled out from him.
The air in the hall tightened.
So of the weaker nobles stiffened instinctively, spines
straightening as if a hand had pressed gently between their shoulders.
Then the pressure vanished.
The Second Prince exhaled once and the invisible weight drew back
into him as though it had never appeared.
A smooth smile returned to his face.
"You give too much credit, Seventh Brother, Ninth Brother," he
said.
"After all," he continued, eyes curving faintly, "to say that I alone directed the list and discussed with every academy and pillar of the kingdom would be the sa as announcing that you have already entrusted with the reins of the kingdom itself."
The hall stilled again.
It was a joke.
Everyone understood it as a joke.
But beneath the humor, there was a quiet statent.
If this truly rested on him alone, then the other princes had already
admitted his superiority.
Several nobles lowered their gazes, hiding the brief light in their eyes.
On the high platform, the Seventh Prince's smile thinned a little. The Second Prince inclined his head slightly toward them. "Fortunately," he went on, still smiling, "His Majesty the King, the
elders of the royal council, the academy heads and many others were involved. I was only one voice among many."
He turned back to the hall.
"So now, let us finish what we started."
Was what the Second Prince said when a loud announcent from
the hall entrance echoed.
"The Great Princess Priscilla has arrived. Everyone pay your respects!"
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