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From the highest seat overlooking hundreds of nobles, Rukan opened the session.
“Why do you think I have called you here?”
Silence fell over the great hall. Not a single fool dared to innocently give an answer to his quiz.
“Speak, Timothy Ken Terpen, baron of the east.”
Timothy flinched in surprise, but relied on his years of experience to give a safe, conventional answer.
“I humbly presume that you have gathered us to discuss matters of great importance to the kingdom, Your Highness…”
“What specific matters of importance?” Rukan asked.
“Matters of economy, military, politics, and society, Your Highness.”
“If you know so well… then why have you done nothing?”
Though it was December, a time when snow could fall at any moment, Timothy began to sweat. Rukan’s voice had not risen. He was as calm as before, but that calmness tightened around Timothy’s throat like a noose.
“For the last fifty years, what has Terpen done for this kingdom?” Rukan asked.
“W-we have devoted ourselves to training knights, in hopes of producing a Master-level knight.”
“I see. Then I must have overlooked it. A knight trained for fifty years by Terpen should surely be a Grandmaster by now. My apologies for not remembering. What is his name?”
Timothy, who had been trying to maintain composure, dropped...
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