And so, Florian and Heinz stepped through the towering double doors of the council chamber.
The air inside was cold—not from temperature, but from tradition. It was custom that no one else, not even a single knight or attendant, be present for these meetings. Only the highest powers of the realm—the dukes, the king… and his representative—were permitted.
As the heavy doors creaked shut behind them, Florian could hear the low murmur of conversation from within. But the moment the two entered, the room fell into an expectant silence.
All eyes turned toward them.
"Took them long enough," Alaric grumbled under his breath, though his voice carried easily in the silence. The other nobles stood, their silks and armor rustling faintly as they bowed in unison.
Heinz walked with the slow, commanding grace of a monarch born and raised. "Good morning, lords and lady," he greeted smoothly. "Apologies for the delay—we had to tie up a few loose ends."
