- THREE MONTHS
Feeling their gazes was more than just that. It wasn't like what one would experience standing before a crowd and being expected to give a well thought out speech.
No… It was far heavier than that. As though the burden of their hopes and dreams had suddenly been settled onto his shoulders, as though he was their light bearer, as though he was their only hope.
It was a different kind of weight, one that would definitely crush the heart and soul of any man unworthy of it all.
Rollan stood down below, holding onto the small, trembling hand of his wife. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through the space between them, landing on Leonel with a burning light, an endless fervor.
He looked from Leonel's face to the bloodied, four meter long spear in his hand. The crimson liquid dripped slowly from its tip, rebounding off of the marbled steps.
The sound, slow and rhythmic, beat along with their hearts.
"This is your choice?" Leonel asked.
In return, silence was all he received.
"Alright, then."
The crowd of commoners erupted, their roars and cheers surging through the small town like a torrential wave. For the first time, the nobles began to feel some fear of their own, none of them daring to so much as peek out from their windows.
**
Over a month later, in a distant city that dwarfed the small town in size and stature, a man with a greying beard sat upon a throne, listening to a report expressionlessly.
Though his beard was indeed greying, rather than giving him the look of an old, out of his prime man. It instead gave him an air of wisdom and confidence, even bolstering his looks to a level that could only be matched by other refined middle-aged men.
"… Your Majesty, Helyes' death has been confirmed. According to reports, he lost his life at the hands of his General. Since then, the town has been gathered beneath the rulership of the General and has even begun to rapidly expand.
"Rather than continuing to defend the border as they're meant to, they've turned their weapons toward the Capital and have been steadily eating away at our Territory. At this point, seven town and two cities have already fallen."
The King listened to this matter without much of a change in expression. However, the court ministers around him already began to bluster in rage before he, himself, got the chance to say anything.
BANG!
A man with a round belly smashed his fists down on an expensive wood railing. However, considering his stature and power, Leonel wouldn't conclude that he was useless in combat like he had for the other nobles. In fact, this man was definitely quite dangerous, carrying with him strength that could rock the earth.
"So much noble blood is on his hands! This scourge must be eradicated!"
"Then why don't you go lead an army to stop him? Hm? Let him see what the esteemed Mikael the Round can do?"
Mikael shot a look of fury over. His title was Mikael the Sturdy, not Round. It was clear that someone was trying to humiliate him.
When he looked over and so who it was, his fury only compounded.
"You sure have a lot to say, Normand the Cuckold. How about you come over here and do it to my face?!"
Normand was of much smaller stature than Mikael. Despite the fact he was in the King's presence, he had reclined back in his chair, his feet laying up on a similar wooden railing to the one Mikael slammed. The only difference was that the two were on completely opposite sides of the royal court.
Normand had long, flowing blond hair and shimmering green eyes. Everything from the shape of his jaw to the outline of his nose could be considered to be at the peak of perfection. He was truly a handsome man amongst handsome men. Even though he was slouched and his figure wasn't clear, one had no doubt that he would match up in this aspect as well.
Despite being insulted even more blatantly than Mikael had been, Normand didn't react in nearly as enraged a fashion. In fact, he laughed as though the insult wasn't about him at all.
Those who knew the story behind this could only show a range of reactions. Some shook their heads, some ignored the situation entirely, but the majority snickered. It was clear that amongst nobles, Normand wasn't well liked at all.
And… his next words proved exactly why that was.
"Ah yes, my wife-to-be was indeed snatched away by His Majesty at the behest of his favorite son. What can I say? I simply did my duty. It's very amusing, even I laugh, I don't mind if you do.
"But, you know what I find even funnier? If any one of those 'nobles' you're crying and moping about right now were here, would you even let them lick the dirt off the sole of your boots? Do you even really care about them?
"To you, mighty Dukes and Marquises, what are Barons and Earls worth? You only care because someone even lower than them is doing the slaughtering.
"It can't be that you're all unaware of the atrocities they've all committed at the border, right? Having such 'nobles' defend such important and volatile parts of the land was a mistake to begin with. But you never cared then, so why do you care now?
"A failure all around, in my opinion."
Normand yawned.
In just about a minute, he had said more than enough to warrant public execution ten times over.
He mentioned a taboo subject he wasn't meant to. He insulted the sovereignty of the nobles and as such the Majesty who bestowed them this title. And finally, he insulted His Majesty directly by calling his rulership and policies a failure.
Why this man was still alive with such a nonchalant attitude was beyond them.
"Three months."
The voice came from nowhere. It carried a baritone kind of majesty that couldn't be ignored.
Normand didn't bother to move as two heavy set knights picked him up by the arms and began to drag him away. He really seemed too lazy to make any movements.
His laughter rang through the courtroom. "See you all in three months!" owns all content.