The knights came from the wings of the grounds, twelve of them. Their white and gold armor gleamed in the grey winter light, and the metal drank the sun and held it close, refusing to let it go. They took positions around the assessment grounds at intervals that were not random, each knight placed exactly where they could see and be seen. Their presence was a silent reminder of where power truly lay.
Not with the houses, not with the banners and the bloodlines.
With the crown.
The first trials were tests of strength and skill. Knights moved through the crowd calling houses forward, their voices carrying across the frozen ground, and the gathered nobles watched as their champions demonstrated their prowess. Swords clashed, shields splintered. Men bled and fell and rose again, sometimes on their feet and sometimes crawling.
