Standing at the very absolute front of the armored generals, looking entirely unbothered and utterly terrifying, was Grandpa Marcuset.
The Emperor, of course, had already heard exactly what happened at the sporting grounds before the morning assembly even began. His spies were nothing if not efficient. Still, he rested his chin on his hand, looking down at the tense crowd.
Soon, the Minister of the Right—a man in deep blue robes—shot to his feet, his face red with indignation.
"Your Majesty!" the Minister shouted, bowing deeply. "This servant wishes to file a formal, urgent complaint!"
The Emperor looked at him, his expression unreadable. "What is wrong? Speak."
